I am thinking of getting into doing simple still lifes with photographs and ephemera. I’ve done a few experiments. I don’t have the most professional looking materials. I don’t even have white foam board right now so I am using white tissue paper from gift wrap. I enjoy arranging decor and photographs and little odds and ends to make a picture. I’m debating investing in a Polaroid camera so that I can use little polaroid pictures for my designs. But for now I’m going to use the stockpile of regular photos that I have printed and haven’t used for scrapbooking.
This picture was taken when my husband and I first got married. I believe we were in Washington DC in this picture out to dinner. If not, we were in Rome. The background so dark and blurred and I can’t quite remember whether this was one of our trip to DC or our trip to Rome that year.
My bar is full of acids,
Chronic medicine comes from it.
Tear out my tears
Make unhealthy promises.
I am a pretty prolific diarist. In addition to this blog, I use this colorful book right here to keep a daily log of my mood, what I am reading, my goals for the day, a prayer, and a list of what I am grateful for. I also sometimes write regular diary entries on top of my daily log. I keep a productivity journal that allows me to list my most important tasks of the day and of the week and log how much time they are taking me and what I am truly getting done. On top of that I use an app called Diaro to write brief descriptions of my day and what’s on my mind, and I attach photos. So basically I am always writing something.
I find the doing all this writing about my life and what I’m doing with it reminds me to actually try to do something with it and get stuff done. It’s also going to provide a record of family life for my daughter when she gets older. Maybe these things can be passed down for a while. And what I write on the phone app is backed up on Dropbox.
Journaling sometimes acts as a form of therapy for me. Writing can be very therapeutic. When my mood is fluctuating and I’m having a hard time, this blog and my journals give me a place to vent and sort out my thoughts. When things are going well I have a record of it to look back on when things are going poorly, or even just when I want a trip down memory lane. Writing about my creative endeavors and posting poetry and art allow me an outlet that I don’t have in my daily life for sharing creativity.
I have been an active diarist for most of my life. My uncle gave me a beautiful leather journal when I was in Middle School. It wasn’t my first Journal technically, but it was the first one that I wrote in seriously. After that I filled journals for years until something rather traumatic happened and then I didn’t write one for a long time. But since then I’ve come back full force and blogging is what I have to thank for that. That, and my love of stationery.
On the bridge of her lips I consider crossing –
my hips a sailboat with no sails.
Behind me, daisies.
Beneath me, silk drenched with dream.
In the sweet musk of human frailty
I rollick like a ship to sea
when she gazes at me,
knife to meat,
erosion to beach.
Destruction never was so complete.
Spread open like an unread book,
I am searched,
My ecstasy excavated,
Preserved in her skin,
Dissolving on her tongue.