In response to: Wet Shore A copper key hangs from a hook beside my bed. I read you, when that key has a quiet conversation with the jelly fish fearing ocean fearing bear trainer in side me. But you know, that I would stride into that water to drag you out of it. You know … More I Dont Surf. ( For J )
When a Mother Does.. When a mother falls to her knees, to beg, and to pray; to crawl and to get out of the way. When a mother covers her face, and her swollen skin, to hide the burst blood vessels and her fragility within; there is no vanity there- it’s to protect her tiny … More When a Mother Does
Page One. Page 2. J was most pissed at me for getting us arrested. Our fake names turned out to belong to people who actually frequented the underground poker den / brothel that we were attempting to have a good time in. It was quite frankly, a waste of wigs, a waste of make up, … More The Unsecret Dialogue Chronicles of S and J: Old Photos. Page Two
When I started this blog, my motives were to purge. In my immediate reality I am told I have the gift of telling stories, and making people laugh in my animated way. At the same time, because of just how much trauma I have been through – it was hard to combine the humour and … More Gratitude, for strangers.
Found a few clips of my and my girl J… This was me trying to run over a neighbor. J installed a hidden cam in the car to see my reaction when I figured out that she had disabled my engine… and applied super glue to the steering wheel.
I am not sure who found who, Or who applied the super glue, But I know that I am glad it’s you, whos spilled into my greens with your blues. Like Northern Lights. Shades of red, when we walk with the dead, but the night remains, the same, our patchwork stars; our awe inspiring playground, … More Friends.
I am a chocolate brownie fan, and J knew full well that I would devour at least four before thinking to ask if J had added anything extra special to the mix. Of course, by then, it was too late. I had to be escorted out of the public lounge, as I started blowing out … More The Unsecret Friendship of S and J. A Collection, of Unsecret Affairs.
Imagine, if you will, my skin sewn to yours. Stitched with no real surgical skill. Lumpy and uneven, but held together well. Bruised and swollen, but held. Imagine if you will, two minds merged in the fire of a kiln, each shaped by different hands, white skeletal master pieces connected by heat, fire, life and … More J and S. Stands for Just Sayin’