To date

April 5, 2015 § Leave a comment

Lost, do you see
The end, the beginning
Of games you play
Taking, talking
Do you come
Twitch, addicted
To an urban love
Slow burn, fast churn
Waiting for your turn.



February 15, 2015 § Leave a comment

You are an old soul
When the crickets sound music
Hear the neighbors TV is the static

You are an old soul
Seeking transcendence
Finding stillness in the dark

You are an old soul
Who went on the Search
Found nothing and everything of meaning

You are an old soul
No sailor or homemaker at last
Heart and spirit lost to future hopes

You are an old soul
And this is the only truth
You have ever known

Moods’ Wing

September 27, 2010 § 1 Comment

Weather changes in its denied space. The sky over my head I walk on an illuminated road overlooking the valley that lies along the sea. And the weather shines gently on my face. The day scorches its way to a noon filled with sounds. “Dragon flies kissed me on my way to work” says an unassuming romantic. And the skies turn black without warning. Switchover to a downpour as if a bright sun is too much of a front for the weather to keep up. The rain drips through as it has for months now. The season will not give in to the beat of a calendar. By sunset the departure of the sun goes unreckoned, overshadowed by lightning wreaking silently in the furious sky. The night drizzle passes in silence. An occasional cricket and the whir of an active fan as the day gives in to its mood swings and I retire from mine.

And its Done

August 24, 2010 § Leave a comment

Lit glass painting

Lit glass painting

Glass shiny bits in bronze

Glass shiny bits in bronze



Draw me up a drama

August 22, 2010 § Leave a comment

A day of occurences much heightened by timing. Guess everyone manages a smile even when they feel like shit. Is that why happiness seems so overrated? Probably can’t be shared, happiness that is. Very little can be shared if you think about it. It’s all an exercise in display for conversation, respect and most times plain old attention.

As for the drama bit, what else do you call a weak stomach, 3 buckets of clothes washed, color pencil sketch following up to anxiety, shock, a chase, showarma which I fear will worsen the stomach and 4 hours of rain whacked mental hauling ending with a walk on tiled roads wearing slippers. Yes, they slip. Especially on wet tiles. Admit I will, the rain is not helping anything.

But, the sketch. I went ahead and colored it up to see what combinations I will use on glass. The second sketch ever I have used colors.

What will go on glass

Sketch colored


August 21, 2010 § Leave a comment

Life collects in lots
cigarette butt thoughts
dreams of ashes
rain bright washes
sleepless I, untying knots

Blows my mind

August 20, 2010 § Leave a comment

I woke up high on making a sketch for Ma yesterday, spoiling for a bright day, focused on the spark.

Sketch basic

Sketch basic - Cow & Krishna for Ma

And I talked surrealism, Ireland, rock and roll, Kashmir and wealth managers to anyone who would have a conversation. It winds me up sometimes finding things and knowing them.

It takes so little to trip me up. Putting pencil to paper and creating form, owning the fragility of your hopes, finding Lester Bangs, the many ways a story can be told, even that words have stories, being fascinated itself.

I’ve been told I want nothing badly enough. The truth is, I do not want one thing bad enough. Just my fix.

  • Who I am



    I'm a tall girl who makes small indulgences. I love tinkering with experiences and making stuff. I do my bit to pay the rent. But, mostly I live to see the sun shine.

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