You need to become a pen
in the Sun’s hand.
We need for the earth to sing
Through our pores and eyes.
The body will again become restless
Until your soul paints all its beauty
Upon the sky.
~Hafiz
Paint it today, lovely one.
I want to see it.
it’s not just that his lips are sexy it’s that they speak truth and ask deep questions laughter pours forth from them (also kindness, gentleness and acceptance) yes, i like them against my mouth (and other places) but it’s the substance of him that pull me in to his gravity
There’s so much I want to say. So much I could say about friendship, and belonging, and how care (or the absence of it) feels deep in the center of my being. About feeling dehumanized so often. Objectified. Plunked into the fantasies and projections of men who said they loved me but didn’t show me…
In this episode, I talk about getting blocked on Instagram by “art critic” @jerrysaltz, overcoming obstacles, collective care, transformation of self and culture, and why Chani Nicholas (@chaninicholas) has a business model I am emulating.
She loves her body and her breasts and delights in her own flesh and shares it with whomever is courageous enough to live their truth and stand by her in the Light.
vulnerability soft folds (ripped open) revealing deep slash bound peer into darkness (infinite landscape) fractal wound binding like a river winding through a canyon he saw all worlds contained we both saw Her here. now. Ekphrastic poem inspired by the Hana Hamplová: Meditations on Paper exhibit at The Frye Art Museum. I saw it once, alone,…
I love you. I do.