i don't want to miss a thing

no matter how small or mundane.

on the road

i drive a lot. and by a lot, i mean A LOT, so it's always nice when i see things along the way and in my travels that make me smile or intrigue me visually or both. i took this photo heading into jersey city recently. i know it was totally irresponsible of me considering i was at the wheel (though moving relatively slowly), but when the moment happens, you have to seize it.

thoughts

sometimes i just need to take a minute out for myself.

there's a part of me that works just like a child

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it's the little things in life that make me stop and take notice. and smile of course.

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1. found art. (found in jersey city, nj 8/9/2008)

2. chalk drawings outside of my apartment (fuji instamax print)

until the shaking stops

the fibers in my muscles, each and every one, up at arms. bristling, burning hot with a slow rage i can't stand to feel. the feeling of anger reserved for when i'm hurt and don't know how to deal with it other than acting like an animal cut and bleeding, backing away from the help it needs to be healed. and then i feel it begin. it, the low wild shaking that starts somewhere deep inside my chest, radiates outward all the way down my limbs vibrating every joint, tendon, the very sinew of my soul. i'm burning up in my face, neck, chest, heart, hands, everywhere as an icy shot of pure sorrow runs right through my veins; the shaking intensifies and i can't, i just can't. i fall to the floor. defeated again. tears soaked right through my skin. i want to cry out so i know i'm not alone, but i can't open up my mouth. assuming no one will hear me if i do, no one does hear me because i don't. i am so incredibly foolish.

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i don't know how to not push you all away...i'm sorry

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it's getting old

the invisibility game. time out. i don't want to play anymore.

bad mood

be it "angry bad" or "sad bad," whenever i find myself in such a state, there is one place alone i can escape to...you know where that is.........

take a look around

you never know what you'll see.

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1. wildwood, nj

2. random typewriter (that cost too much at an antique store)

3. cesar's tattoo gun (one of many. he made this one himself)

4. forest drive, bloomingdale, nj.

inspiration- dylan scholinksi

Born Daphne, Scholinski grew up near Chicago. A tomboyish young girl, she suffered intense bullying for not being girly enough. She became a troubled teen whose behavioral problems doctors attributed to a diagnosed "gender identity disorder." At age 15, she was committed to a psychiatric hospital, where she stayed for three yearsHer treatment was designed to make her identify as a "sexual female." It included make-up lessons, mandatory dress requirements and coaching in the art of flirtation. A 1997 book recounting the experience, "The Last Time I Wore a Dress: A Memoir" (Penguin/Putnam), received national attention.

Unsurprisingly, the artist's confinement - and the questionable and spectacularly unsuccessful course of treatment - forms the organizing theme of Dylan's work. Each painting is like a personal journal entry commenting on a facet of the artist's tortured childhood and subsequent steps at resolving the identity issues that had caused so much pain.

What is surprising about these raw, edgy works is their wit and elegance. Humor has been the artist's path from darkness. It forms a path for us, as well, providing a safe route for us to enter into a world that we would otherwise find too disquieting. The artist's wit assures us that these are not the rantings of a mental patient. They are lucid, self-aware statements of an artist who sees his history with a surprising level of clarity, acceptance and forgiveness.

Painted in the grays, blacks and foggy colors of a nightmare, the paintings are nonetheless aesthetically pleasing. They are technically strong and exquisitely balanced. Each work commands attention, compelling us to focus closely - to dig through layers of history and subtle (sometimes not so subtle) allusions so that we might reach an understanding of the artist's past and his triumphant arrival at the present. They invite us to feel our own emotions and to connect with the artist's. They seek unity through empathy.

Dylan explains, "I paint for my survival and myself … without my art, I would likely be dead. My purpose is to encourage the sympathetic indulgence of emotions. If you can reach these emotions in yourself, you may identify them in others, and we will all have better understanding, compassion, and tolerance of each other."

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text and images borrowed from Nevin Kelly Gallery

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i read "the last time i wore a dress" many years back and just recently re-discovered dylan's work and his paintings. i find inspiration in his work because despite the cruel, unfair treatment he experienced as a teenager, he has chosen to move forward and share his experiences in a positive way through art and words. and of course, the asthetic of his work- the incorporation of collage and text within the dark themes he chronicals- is visually pleasing to me as well. he has much to teach the world and many stories to share and i'm glad that he is doing so.

no time

i have nothing else to add. it speaks for itself. it just makes me sad when people (including myself) sometimes forget about love, instead gravitating towards the ugly depths of hatred. i'll never really understand it.

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photo: main street- bloomingdale, nj