What is Happening to Me?

Do you know?

I was screeching this.

I was unwinding my insides.

art journal spring 2016


I feel like a wild animal.

Scratching and marking and hunting.

If you ask me to behave,

I most likely will not.

art journal 2016


I’m not afraid to lay open.

I’m unafraid to bleed out.

If you are afraid of my smooth skin

and my loud voice

then go away.

Artfest collage work 2016

When I became this way

was when the grass in the meadow spoke

When it told me

I was home

That’s when I became earth

and started to smell of it

juniper portal in the Sacred Meadow

Your touch sets me on fire

In all the bad ways

work in progress 2015

I’m my ghost

I’m my sacred, wet, woman self

I’m making all the music

“from LA with love ” 2016


When I say, I’m dying

When I died

When I say I’m dying

every day

after almost everything I feel

and hear

and say

That’s when I realize

I’m alive.

“I Speak this Way” art journal 2016

And I want to lick it

I want to lick it

And wear it

And smell it

I wanna go in broken

And feel it

I won’t stop easy.


so I read “you are at the end of your rope”

and “fear looks; faith jumps”

it threw me into a dither

art journal page 2016

the drum and rattle

the monsters on the mantel

the good kind house on the land

I am dying

“Song of the Starved Soul” art journal #sylvanfairyart 2016

I love only rain today

The word Vanish is my friend



I am only going to write what I want

sylvanfairy at the yellow house

I envision black strips of fabric used as binding

Loosely wound mummy style

Woven between

Skin and

Bones and



I notice the everything in it

I notice the stifling


And the stench

And ignorance


I wait for sleep

And I ask to be carried there

I ask to be lifted and carried there

“Moth”  large acrylic on canvas #sylvanfairyart

I imagine Spirit holds my hand

And waits with me

Unable to do anything

But make Its presence known

and I think very quietly that suffering together

may work

“Speaking with Spirit” art journal 2016

In a Dark Way

my heart beats like a

trapped and dying animal

like a re-opened wound

or soft fresh scab

“Dancing with the Moon” -art journal

it aches with truth

trying to escape

looking for a fruitful branch

a wise old tree

or mothering

art journal -trapped light
“Trapped Light” -art journal

my heart bleeds itself open

dripping small red dots

that smell like

the frozen biting wind


it pulsates raw knowing

splatterings of shut valves

plugged ducts

a brokenness

only some know

“Re-Entry” 2016

my heart carries me

it reminds me

it hears me

and it sees me

in a dark way

full and red and bursting