Like Stained Glass

(this is a micro-fiction piece that I accidentally wrote while I was trying to write a poem lol)


She held the flashlight against the inside of her palm,
just to prove that the bones and veins were all there,
glowing reddish pink with lines of black running through.

In the dark of the windowless bathroom, the glow was brighter than the nightlight she still used in her room.

She was ten - she stopped sucking her thumb at seven, a few years later than was socially acceptable. She liked the salty bitterness of it, the way her thumbpad would crinkle into raisiny wrinkles after all the salt had been sucked out.

After that night in the bathroom, she didn't need a nightlight anymore, because all she had to do to conquer the dark was lift her left hand towards the ceiling, and let the glow it held suffice.

She slept on her side, with her hand tucked beneath her head to cradle her cheek. Her nightlight was out, and the moon was new. In her sleep, her face seemed to radiate a rosy brilliance, filling her room with a soft, dim light.

She was ten. Her father had told her when she was younger that on full moon nights God was using a night light too. She thought that meant that God knew we needed the moon, needed the light, so He took pity on us. But later she knew it meant that even God is afraid of the dark sometimes. Even God needs a nightlight, sometimes - even God.

She wondered what color God's hand glowed when He held it to the moon. If His veins glowed blue or gold or if He had veins at all - Maybe His veins cast light instead of shadow, peeking out in specks through the dark to land on her wall through the sheer curtain in her bedroom window.

In the morning, after she left for school, her mother turned down the bed and and found a flashlight under the pillow, still switched to "ON". But when she opened it to replace the surely run-out batteries, she found the flashlight was empty.

To Sleep

lifted up and off
on the wings of a book,
an ethereal passage
born of light and air
- the words are like the shadows of dust mites
floating in a sunbeam escaped through a crack in the blinds
and where the sunbeam's scattered light-drops landed,
there the words were found and lifted off
and up
on the wings of becoming
in the passage of light from the pages

Window, or door?

(a short bit I wrote for Experimental Theater)

Play-offs Game

C - Okay, ready?
A - Ready.
C - Alright, "window" - or, "door"??
A - …Woah.
C - I know!
A - Hmmm…. can we come back to it?
C - No, choose now. Go with your gut.
A - AH - ah - ummm, ok. …window. NO, door.
C - Ok, I'm writing it down…
A - AH NO! Window.
C - …are you sure?
A - Yes.
C - Ookayyy…
A - Write it down.
C - Done. …why window?
A - I don't know… because they're closer to the sky, I think.

Restless

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KoougfO1evI

This is a short film I did for my video art class about light & motion. My piece is about the latent restlessness and energy that is in everything, even things at rest or moments that are peaceful.

Enjoy! :)

p.s. it's best if you watch it full screen!
p.p.s. and with ear phones!

Country Road

...take me home, to the place where I belong....

Driving through a beautiful fall day in the sun is good for your soul. 

Try it sometime.

Ask questions.

Follow your impulses.

Learn the difference between lost and roaming.

Enjoy. Partake. Immerse. Open. Wander. Wonder.

Listen.
Look.
Take the time.

Throw your arms upwards with reckless abandon.

Be still.

Breathe, and be breathed.

Change. Temporarily and permanently.

Find the world in a moment.  In the simple things.

Leave footprints. Take note of others.

Live. 

Fill in your own shoes.

Find contentment in the way the sun falls on your face and the curve of the road as your car climbs the hill and as you crest it and look down on the patterns below and realize that God is in the earth in the sky in the fall leaves painted into the very road you roam.

Captured

             

Lessons in Origami

We folded ourselves into planes
and sent our fortunes sailing across the room.

I'll fold you a crane for smoother flight
  
    Fortunewings melting in the sun

    Something stronger

Paper dragons,
light themselves on fire.

Wax Paper Package

it's as if there's a disconnect somewhere,

between my soul

and the world outside

and it feels like crawling into a shell made of wax paper and wrapping the bits of me that matter into a safe little package that i'll leave in the back of the freezer and forget about for a while.

no, it's more like completely reducing myself to the wax paper package and peering at the world through the ice-frosted wax from the back of the freezer.

no, it's not that either.
it's like seeing the world through a screen door that's locked and you don't know how to open except to forget about the door and run top speed at the shimmering mesh.

Sketch of Spencer Pond

This is just a preview of many photos that I will post soon of the place I went this summer that has now become a part of my soul.  :)

(btw did this sketch on a whim last night around midnight, when I was barely conscious... and woke up this morning and actually really liked how it turned out!)