Journal writings

Lil’ Lit

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Small book. Tiny handwriting. What does it say?

Haiku and small poems about my daily bus ride to Olympia. Over the last 4 years I’ve logged thousands of miles up and down I-5 and hundreds and hundreds of trips.

Here are some in process photos of the making of “The Commute-Tacoma, Olympia”:

I took photos on the bus and had to make some design decisions.
Inspired by an artist book made with a clam shell, I decided to use this shape.
I cut up the most current schedule for my pages and box.

As I am making, all the while I’m thinking about the smells, sounds, rhythmic rocking, and views out the window that I see over and over again. How can I capture it within such a small work, and one I want to fit into a small box?

Things I want to highlight in words. I love words. I love to pepper my work with them.
How can I put this thing together? Do I want to make it permanent?
Now it is a flower, not a starfish. Still organic, not quite sure how it fits with the bus, yet.

 

This book was created for the 2017 Puget Sound Book Artists Exhibit, Northwest Musings. Come see this book and many other beauties through through July at the Collins Library, University of Puget Sound, Tacoma. <3

Morning Commute

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Up since 3am. It rained so hard all night long. The wind blew the bad out of all of us. Stars, I see you. Even at 7am. 💖

Defying Hate

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What does that mean? How can I, one person, possibly have an impact on this planet? I hear blame. Everywhere. But the truth is, I am to blame. I didn’t reach out to you. I didn’t talk to you and ask you how you are doing. I judged you before you even opened your mouth.

I’m self absorbed. I’m looking to further my own agenda. My art life. Look at me! If I turn my attention outward, I see pain. A lot of pain. And honestly, most of the time, I can’t handle it. I can’t save the whole world. Can I?

I used to think my art would heal people, heal their pasts. My glowing light and example would save those who gazed upon my creation. I’m not sure I believe that anymore. I think I’m full of shit.

And I sit on Facebook and pass judgment. Everyday I pass judgment on what you post and how you feel about things. And if they don’t agree with my view, I make you “them”. The famous “them” that separates us from each other. I put you in a box. The stupid box.

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