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I live in a place with a lot of birds. Hawks, owls

I live in a place with a lot of birds. Hawks, owls, 5 sets of mourning doves, 2 pairs of robins, more mockingbirds than makes a pleasant experience. I’ve been here 7 years, and with 5 of those years have been spent walking my dog a half hour a day, you get familiar. I like spring because of its abundance. New babies and a rainbow of blooms. And, like clockwork, you watch the predators come out, too. Hungry and restless after a barren winter. I can relate.
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The other day, I watched two chickadees chase away a hawk who was struggling to steal a baby squirrel, not even one of their own. This natural behavior is calling mobbing, where the small gang up to defeat the mighty. It’s a loud and chaotic dance. It makes me think of the injustices of the world, the Davids and Goliaths, the balanced weight of the wheel that keeps it spinning. This painting “Flash Point” is about the moment where heat, pressure, becomes unbearable and action must occur. It’s about remembering the power of the many and it’s about the bravery to be loud and chaotic.

Album cover type shit. . Also, I updated my websit

Album cover type shit.
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Also, I updated my website today. Take a scroll. ♥️

“Three Wishes”, a poem. . If I was granted thr

“Three Wishes”, a poem.
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If I was granted three wishes,
I would ask for the obvious:
No more starving people,
Shelter as a right, our last war
already through.
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I am, after all,
A woman whose heart bleeds
For this empty cup of a world.
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It seems to be a woman’s job,
to patch the broken hearts of men
who make lives out of breaking things:
homes, countries, bodies, dreams.
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Maybe then it’s a wish for self,
for an easier workload. A few days off
as the world heals itself with less
of my tending, researching, effort.
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But if once those things were brought,
once the exchange made: labor for love,
ease for peace; then I might rethink my answers.
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If I truly, secretly allowed myself to be selfish,
to think of me before the world,
I would ask for easy beauty.
.
I would ask for manicures at a snap,
And hair that is effortless.
I would ask for forever supple skin.
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I would ask for a body that is skinnier.
Or maybe a body that was right for whatever person was looking at me.
An amorphous cloud of hot body.
.
I would ask for easy beauty because it is an acceptable form of women’s power.
All women know this, not just the beautiful ones.
.
I would ask for all the time back spent
primping and plucking and puking.
I would ask for the mental space to be restored.
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I would ask for it so I could clear my calendar to do what I really want:
Learn French, be in a girl band, sit down.
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Easy beauty would be like a tax return.
A refund of all the money spent
At a salon, in the gym, trying on bras…
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If granted easy beauty, after all,
with all that energy and brain space back,
I could actually change the world.
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No wonder it is so demanding.
No wonder it is never granted.

Last weekend, a woman came into my studio whom I r

Last weekend, a woman came into my studio whom I revere. She was like a liaison from the Universe, who conspired and thought, “how do I get this girl to listen?”, and, then, in she walked. She affirmed for me a few things that have been rolling around in my mind, like marbles tracking through lines of doubt and fear. She told me that my work is beautiful (I struggle with making work that isn’t thematically heavy in this world that isn’t light) and that I should raise my prices. She asked me to make three more like a piece she saw in process and that she wanted to present it to a collector as a triptych. Anyways, just sent her the images. 🤞
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This is a post about the boundaries we make and break with ourselves and the small bits of magic that happen when you just simply show up to put paint where it ain’t. ⭐️

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