Watercolor Paper, Watercolor, Pen, Ink, (semi) Paper Collage
January 26, 2009
(In response to the three paintings below)
When
"When my mother dies
I'll smoke my first cigarette of at least a thousand
that will inevitably end my life.
I will not make the bed, but turn down the sheets;
white wind hands will
paint her face away. I will not
wear white.
Ashes will descend upon time
and time turn to dust.
Dust will appear forgivable and blue.
I never will notice until 'warning' turns her light on
(Leave the light on, please),
I will do this nightmare a dirty favor
for my own peace and demise.
I will not recall Christmas decor.
Pink plastic lights
strung by papa's hands will not show
the twinkle in my short circuit.
I will not remember how
the blue ones gave away her grace,
with a foreshadowing too early for my liking,
as she stood in the kitchen
and made me eyes from scratch
to see through.
I will walk in circles around the wine stain
on the carpet floor.
I will not look for 7 a.m. sunlight squares
through the kitty door,
over-easy eggs and bacon
(kitty is long gone now).
I won't remember holding sermon on her chest,
sternums lain to rest,
mommy lying there without me
as I will be without my self.
I will string beads like spiderwebs
from their melting neck,
turquoises and pearls of hers,
and I will let them stay
a part of my body, as I
could not be.
I will not hear those songs I promise I would learn
but let die, those pipes in memory,
selfishly.
Guitars will invoke that nothingness
where a girl once sang along to a woman's chorus
in natural cause
that harmony remain sacred.
I will not remember, my ear to her stomach,
sounds of the blood moving.
When moo is gone,
I'll just let hair be hair. And hang there."
-Amber Tamblyn
Hey BB!
January 21, 2009
Untitled
I listened to Regina Spector for the majority of the creation of this painting. Looking back on it, two songs stand out to me. Lullaby and Chemo Limo.
I was listening to NPR's jazz hour one night and they started playing the most amazing music I had ever heard in a long time!
Big Mama Thornton.
Stretched Canvas, Acrylic, Oil
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