to realize
keep to yourself
no one really cares
birthing embitterment of power, now

oh! Dear bloggers. You are a world of its own unto me. I appreciate each and every one of you!! You rock my world!!

Some of you have been on this journey of mine, and of yours, for years. Some bloggers have vanished from sight, succumbed to an unknown planet. Ghosts of oblivion. Sounds peaceful doesn’t it? Oblivion!

I have reached the conclusion i need a blogging break. I am worn from reading and writing, selling and buying, moving from the Midwest to the East Coast. My life is an upheaval of beliefs of not only myself and of the world, but childhood memories. Strangeness ensues. Again.

It will take a lot of self-discipline to keep from reaching out. I need refuge but i also need connection. So no surprise if the exodus doesn’t last. I realize this disappearance will likely be short-lived. Although i need a long time away…

My writing and painting is my essence, now packed in boxes. It is confusing to be wrapped in paper instead of leaving my thoughts upon the blank silence of white.

Confusion is driving me over the edge with no place to find respite. I need to renew my faith. My hope has dwindled. My humanity has been charred. Tomorrow i leave for Boston to find that needed place called home.

I love you. Thank you for being loyal bloggers. I hope you will be there when i am back in the swing of blogs. Right now I can’t keep track of me enmeshed in this business of posting and waiting to hear what the critics think.

I rely too heavily on the social likes. I need to be content with me without relying on you to feed me worms. I need to find my wings. As a bird or a butterfly i am unsure. I will gladly accept either persona.

I know i am not the rock star some other writers and photographers and painters are and i am perfectly happy to be me. I accept myself as is but i believe with breathing room i can emerge from this self-induced cocoon and become greater.

A writing mentor told me blogging is good until you get hung up in the business of blogging. I am there and have been there a few years.


So off i go…

oh! For those who are connected with me in other ways, please keep in touch! I will need your support. Thank you! And if you want to keep connected, and do not have a way to contact me, leave me a message below. I will reach out to you.

Be well. All the best, Jā¤ļøšŸ•ŠšŸ˜˜

What the hell?

We all seem to have something bothering us. Takes honey to catch flies. So why are we spitting vinegar?

I have my few friends. The loyal ones. Thank you for inquiring. But i plan on disappearing over yonder.

There, the sky shines as bright as ever. Forever.

If… i were to shut down this blogging, this would be how i would say goodbye. Goodbye, the toughest word to say. Is it not?

I get in these funky moods every so often. Feel like i need to run and hide. Tired of the belly aching. I get it! Life sucks! But so does complaining.

I have had my share of trauma and travesty. People so dear to my heart left this earth much more abruptly! Yes, i would love to get up and go.

But where?

Here. I suppose. This means I am staying. I think i would rather go. Nothing against you. I really don’t know you. It’s me i know and i can’t stand the sound of my words anymore.

We come with masks. Interchangeable. Can’t really tell which one to wear today. Don’t really want you to see me.

What the hell? This rambling has got to stop. What is it i try to say anyhow?

Wide-Open, Eyes Shut

Thursday Doors – Norm 2.0

Fear this
wide open space -exists
to construct walls

add windows
and doors
to enjoy the view.

If life isn’t fragments
what is the big picture?

tears witness death
storms wash me to sea
tides say goodbye, evidently.

devil in the details

all these thoughts

pouring down

welcome prayers;

the slowing

of my heart,

catching my breath.

i remain hidden

in a catatonic state

realizing opening sin

and boxed memories

rips the curtains

leaving the soul scorched.


has someone stolen your dance;
raped your dreams?

scars heal but peel…
your ripe and smell of orange.

“please, don’t hide”, she speaks to herself,
the corner of the room brightening

learns to dance in the dark.

If you have pitiful days, lying in the bottom of a bottle or wandering in briar forests. If you hold the knife, coincidentally imagining the scrapes on flesh, while watching the blood flow towards the desert. You have learned the answers to your questions. You eventually learn not to ask more questions when the answers never surprise.

If you breathe on every step. If you bump into all the rest. You will find the questions to ask. Just don’t seek the answers. Go hide.

knowing (part four)

you jumped

skipped, hopped over

eight years gone missing

the quiet of forest -misleading

as the twisted twigs show

the contortion of thought

peeled slowly…

you had every reason to believe

the smile, wink and nod of moonlit glow

was your savior unknown.

*my photo