Turn the Paige

Exposure… out there within… Once the book is cracked Vulnerability seeps Pages displayed the beginnings The structure of these beginnings mirror uniquely to this book Broken down from structure, each word is built up from the points of individual letters Turn the Paige… Once the book is open Vulnerability seeps

darken the dark

Cracking illumination of falling night, bleeds through the vertical shades, drawing my gaze. I’m lonely. I want him to bring me close, hold me tight to his heat and heart. I’m lonely. He builds a glass cage, for whom? I’m in this room, in this home overflowing of years built in glass walls. I’m granted … More darken the dark

emotions are contagious

The basic and natural instinctive state of consciousness are our emotions. We are a species that have complex emotions and are highly affected by our own and external emotions as well. In this heightened time of worldwide emotions, keep in mind, all emotions are contagious too. Go forth and be well to live another day.


Building confidence is a very lonely internal journey . . . Hating without understand where it started creates a shield that can become a weapon I’ve underestimated the levels of hate, disguised as annoyances, jealousies and misdirected concerns Digging out of the pits of hate takes time, effort and commitments . . . Confidence is … More Hate

No Doubt

I don’t doubt you care, my friend Your reasons for immersing yourself into my problems is not a healthy relationship for anyone When we can come to each other with open ears and set aside words and allow our hearts to sync, we can move forward… I hope for a connection we both are invested … More No Doubt


Painting: WILLOW BADER FOREVER AND A SONG Venue: The Tin Table 2nd short WILDFLOWER series: Over 10.19.2019


He was always a friend and never noticed me. Watching him live a life with such ease was mesmerizing… walking on fluid air with the weight of strength, warmth and knowledge of intelligence so incomprehensible. He was always a friend that loved and gave to the broken… the broken gravitated towards me and my heart … More broken


love: relationships of understanding: mystery of the visual and inner workings… of them and of you, I love. Joy Jane June 48th short 08.30.2019 untitled

inflated realm

Mirrored in my eyes, I am not you. If blinded, do the insecurities of pain, helplessness and defeat of self image alter? If sighted, do the shields of anguish, realism and humility of self image create damage? The you of you, I know not. The me of you, I desire. The they of you is … More inflated realm


Is this lost feeling good? The opening of air rushing in as my frame expands to climax, perspective shifts and I sink inside… What words spoken are meticulously black or white, words and their definition… definitions have webs of intent and perception… I deconstruct so far as to “organize” into constituent parts; solely, to create … More deconstruct


The cabinet holds the trinkets of memories… gone events, faded emotions, worn details… . . . I close the cabinet, shaking off the tape recorded conversation running on a loop in my head. Ki is here. His muscular languid stride up the stairs, is fluid but heavy… I don’t know how many stairs down I … More doors


I will not ignore my cravings for a reward. … will you? Joy Jane June 41st short 08.18.2019 reward


Look. When I am of occupation, I am suspended and locked in the mind as I exercise my senses… “Th-when” my mind searches and lashes out, the mastery of boredom is understood… the pleasures, the stimulation and the captivity of art and creation bring a giddy of fun… Discovering and rediscovering have a newness with … More boredom

stranger within

When we were pre-teens, Rosie wrote me the most beautiful hate letter. The delicate envelope was made from fine fibers tinted with the blush of pink and with hand drawn flowers so beautiful and detailed only added to the charm of the fat envelope. Inside a treasure of hate bursted at the seams and the … More stranger within


Numbing vibrations paralyze the creative view… unable to see the spectrum and existence of life’s gifts with vigor and appetite. There exists a lack of interaction; not involuntary, a void of being in moments, for I’m blinded by hunger. Gods of inspiration, spirits of thought, lay down the roots and let grow sprouts to fruition … More stuck

Survival Technique #4

When disappointment gawks, glares and points disapproval, the heartache and emotional sentencing feel so criminal and recovering from the falsities of those judgements take time I allude to refusal in the investment. Instinct of survival pulling in a multitude of directions, I am in search of healing through the natural beauty to bring about a … More Survival Technique #4

give with loss

How do I separate my heart to give love worthy of you?  Promises to offer you all the love in me, is a lie… for you are part of a treasured collection. How do I separate promises of time, where it is parallel to the responsibilities, requirements and demands that rob seconds, days and time … More give with loss


Rita said she’s almost ready for death. After the death of her son, she felt that being whole was of the past and every moment she could grasp, she hoarded the memories. . . . “I lived my life unsure of my value as a mother. For many selfish and unselfish actions and words; I … More searching


Choosing to be. Away from the traps of myself. Away from the crosshairs of you. Quiet I see. Colors I hear. Choosing to continue. Joy Jane June 32nd short 06.19.2019 be

emotional evocative

Rita was that friend that understood the language of loneliness. . . . The days away from now stretched on for months. Communication from Rita was a beacon of change with promises of highs and lows. Not many know and understand the fire in my brain; this want-to-be debilitating fire chokes me with attempts of … More emotional evocative


Betwixt the drug of you and the and the pain of art, I lived torn. I crave that passion of connection and the solitude of my soul cuts me in as a pawn and tugs and yanks me far deep into creation. It is me, it was me… I stop walking and then I run… … More seek

chaos charge

The stairs are humbling. Descend, ascend… balance, agility and endurance, at times I’m guilty of taking for advantage but today… These boxes have flipped my day. . . . All is done and all too quiet. This place, my home… old uncultured wood delicately framing stone and brick. The vast space is spring-fresh clean that … More chaos charge

rolls of thunder

“Bye Rosie (shame on me for hoping and believing).” Rosie walks past, her perpetual sadness sinks and weighs on her happiness. Her insecurities are beyond microscopic and I wonder… Do you have to rip hate through our existence? What is hurting you so much that casting that level of anguish is all that brings you … More rolls of thunder


Walking it out on the streets, segregated block to block, the flow of traffic is mundane at this hour; leaving me in a stifling muted bubble of contemplation. …now I stink. Around the corner, I pick up pace ready to climb the stairs just as all, suddenly isn’t Rosie… Rosie is annoyed with her pursed … More be-strangers

the happy runner

“Do you feel happy to be alive?” Pink Scarf: “I’m alive, my wife is not, my daughter is my life… when I am no longer living,  will I have died happy?… am I happy?…” . . . As pink scarf shifts with the other 12, I pause to see them divide, divide again, and again … More the happy runner

14 stories

13 😐+🚲+ 🐕 + 🧳=🚉 A metal box, falling and rising.  A metal box and 14 stories.  A metal box delivering us deep into the earth and as we willing plummet ourselves down… stories of them linger above… Pink Scarf: a congratulation’s gift from his daughter Racing Bicycle: retired messenger that knows freedom. Black leather … More 14 stories

a run

On the other side of Shadow’s, I pass a nod of goodbye, I step out to face the temperamental sky. A mixed breath of wind and cool sky tears suggest I absorb the moment and push off… A tap of sound rushes from ear to mind and I fumble with pace as I lift and … More a run


I should have gotten a chai… Shadow’s baristas are a collective of the ethically working diversity… god like to completely useless.  Why do I go here?  Well, I live above it, it has the comforts of a convenient cabin in the city and it smells damn good… so good!  And he is here. … Romance, … More Nomance

sipsee zign

It was always the last one of the night… just a sippy-sip!   … What time is it?  It’s dark out, the sky is crying and I’m a royal train wreck.  My gut cramps with anger, my mind strobe lights thought and agony and I just wish I could crawl… away from myself. Welcome to … More sipsee zign

It’s Tuesday

Night has made its dramatic appearance. The F & The F is the place.  An eclectic world that coaxes the truth from its patrons.  Clashes, unity and respect are the accepted understanding and rules that uphold TF’s. Rooms that puzzle around each other, to host one world within brick, wood and glass, are styled by … More It’s Tuesday


A history as a constant reminder of our connection now.  Most of my clients appear through a portal from Mae because we understand each other. The latest commissioned piece was requested to be inspired by my hate. I wont. They rejected my wont and asked for me to create from the result of hate.  Peace, … More magic


A resolution of hate, gave a newness to a life that was not befitting of myself. Rosie watches… The moment hate killed Mae, was the moment my flesh was compromised.  She knew the violence in her blood turned black and never again will the innocent and pure blood flow. Panic blurred my emotions as pain’s … More acknowledgement

Rosie watches

The experiences of hate, I remember one. Anger, frustration and hopelessness are emotions I’ve come to terms with. However, hate is the only emotion I will give my life so as not to experience again. After being found between the pea patch and the compost, I was placed with a family and after a temporary … More Rosie watches

a day of work

The exhilaration in the end of “a day of work” (well, at least… a day, 24 hours, 1,440 minutes, 84,600 seconds… at least), is a sad weight being released. Part of my process to create one piece, one piece simply because I made a promise, is by force in a way full of challenges, confrontations, … More a day of work


In preparations to explore the work process, a routine that is meant to be broken, I follow the path of mind and heart. Although art school didn’t open its doors to the impossible, it was an integral part of the process to bring me to the career that chose me.  As any job, I love … More defining


Cheers, Me Thank you for your kindness, I cannot let it go unnoticed how genuine of a being you are.  I’ve learned to understand your broad range of talent, intellect and creativity, and how those have shaped you into this person with confidence, limitations and drive.  You gift yourself to others and with grace, process … More Cheers,

Survival Technique #1

A crack of sunlight radiates heat while illuminating the delicate, weightless dust that swirls and parts as air’s existence is disturbed by motion. It’s a typically beautiful day full of ritual routines and when I have my mind in focus to absorb the complexities of this world, I savor each minute passing. Today, I cannot … More Survival Technique #1


Stepping out into the world, seeds ascent into the air, her life is being lifted and carried away, allowing the spring of life begin once again. Leaving the cafe, I release thoughts of her and glide into step.  Back to work. The dailies of responsibilities is a heavy burden and in the next five days … More Loft

”   .”

Why would I fantasize about my last breath? …because… Life is all I know. My only mother, I’ve ever known, passed in my arms. Looking down at your frail and lost face, dry and sunken, I only saw beauty.  Breath slow, weak in motion, I could feel the skip in life pulse a fast depletion.  As I … More ”   .”

Shadow’s Café

Stepping over the line into the neighboring world, the rhythmic beeps warn me the light rail train doors will suction shut.  Cutting off the cloud of thought which engrossed me… goodbye… Everyday is a ladder of struggles, stepping over the threshold and entering the world… stepping away from thought, completing the ritual of preparation (just … More Shadow’s Café


The moment we separated, did you say goodbye? Beyond the time you held me close, in your belly, you never knew me.  I hope you took care of yourself, I don’t want to think you were in peril and by all means, I hope my existence, in those few months of our lives together, didn’t … More goodbye…

Passing by… bye.

A moment to breathe…  A moment to think, or not… modern day zen garden of my mind. Light of outside dance, change, shock, amuse and for some reason, remind me how small and insignificant this moment is.  Getting lost in this lifting beat, string bass vibrate and jump from ear too ear as it crescendos … More Passing by… bye.

Train’s rave

This is the spot, where the diamond meets the 3rd row of ornate shapes, the marble is smooth and reflects back patterns within patterns.  As I stand here, a private rave echos through my ears… the beat, the ripple of symbols pulse toward a rumble that fades into an air of audible smoke. The transcending … More Train’s rave

The paper cut

Just as getting a paper cut, the pain I experience, passing by this spot, this place of my birth, everyday, is an annoyance.  The initial shock of vulnerability is faster than I can gasp as I look down and see a line of red.  Pain does not always surface but acknowledgment of that wound brings … More The paper cut

By the trash

I don’t know my mother nor my father. I don’t know how to be a daughter. It’s been told, to me, I was found nestled between a pea patch and the compost bin behind the city’s most coveted building. An architectural shrine to the city of beauty, art, music, science, religion and attraction that temps … More By the trash


As I exit the door… Is this the last I will see you? . . . rita a life gone. a friend forever. my heart yearns for you. an emptiness envelopes where you sat a suffocating ache clenches forever remember with light. forever remember with genius forever my dear friend. . . . . . … More rita

Confiscated sleep

Confiscated sleep. A war has awoken… a private war shared between the creative and the structure.  A path that is stretched far and deep from this soul.  Do not whisper of responsibilities, without the commitment to oneself, a shell of actions take hold and control is on solid ground.  A ground where a minimal art … More Confiscated sleep


Walking through the leaves is a thrill. A world of senses are heightened The slip of a fall surges a deep breath The crunch and cradling of the leaves comfort Walking through the leaves is a thrill.

in person

If I were unable to verbally communicate with you eye to eye, I would create in hopes my thoughts and heart were properly being expressed. A walk. Baking Writing Photos, I’ve taken A smile from the eyes Time spent together I would tell you everything through my actions I create.   10.11.18 spoken


Letter – freedom Search for that what is inside is my enlightenment. Freedom from freedom a gratifyingly laborious task. In relief so is my enlightenment.   10.11.18 vicious cycle


Letter – Thank Tears in thanks, I bow my head as I expand with tenderness that innocence cannot compare. Instilled with a dark soul, I cling to the good and hunt for hope. There you stand. In tears of thanks.   10.10.18 vain.

1010 – 18

When you’ve just received news your father has stage 4 tumors… I begin to feel this sunken withering cry swell deep within my chest.  My body sways, my mind is pressing hard, beyond comfort. for an escape.  This is me falling. Letter – Heart I’ve regretted enough and a little too few of knowing if … More 1010 – 18

Slaying Galentine’s

As Angie, Autumn and Kusum exquisitely advance down the strategically placed attention stopping stairs, all eyes, in the modernized earthy-chic Urbane Restaurant, gravitate towards these women gathering for a photoshoot and brunch in celebration of Galentine’s.  The slightest turn of the head, a curl and pucker of the lips and a pop of body form; all natural motions … More Slaying Galentine’s

Under The Steps

Not to be forgotten, Not to be overlooked, As I gaze down to my feet, all others crane their sights up to the skies. Seen, a delicate satin path whisked aside and under the steps as the breeze ripples through the fallen and decaying wave. Left to the brutality of traffic flow, each soft, fragile … More Under The Steps

The Drought

Through these eyes, a spectrum of beauty throughout the city is had. Happening upon the perfect platform is a treasure in its discovery for I am able to experiment and express how I view all that surrounds me. When I share my perspective of beauty I hope for others to find inspiration and to discover … More The Drought

Candy Coated Vaca

Sitting at the bank of the wave pool with cold, raw pruned feet and dehydrated and goosebumped body wrapped in a damp towel emanating an aroma saturated with chorine, I’m simply happy. The Great Wolf Lodge is crowded with children’s shrieks of excitement and laughter and parents in a broad spectrum of dispositions. Family vacations … More Candy Coated Vaca

Lap Du Jour

It’s no use, crying over spilt soup du jour. It was my birthday and of course I had to go to Loulay Kitchen & Bar.  The absolute joy shows in my face but what you don’t know is the horror story that proceeded the second after. While I was delicately rearranging the items to capture the best … More Lap Du Jour