The sun shall rise.

After what proved to be a very stormy night I was met with a restless, non existent sleep. Upon realizing that it was nearly dawn and I was still wide awake from the night before- I decided that a morning greeted by the rise of the sun might result in a drastic improvement on my mood.

I gathered up my comforter and trudged over the dunes and out to the beach. I took a seat on a familiar log, turned my face to the east and waited calmly. It had been a long night of waiting- for a revelation, for peace, for solitude, or for rest. None had been delivered and here I was awaiting some profundity that may not occur.

As I looked over my shoulder I could still see the moon high in the sky reminding me of what it had witnessed, and choosing to ignore it turned my face expectantly back to the impending arrival of the sun.

The sky began to lighten and I could see that a dark cloud, almost as if it had been left over from the night- still saturated with night's darkness; unwilling to let go.. Was maneuvering itself gracefully across the sky in the exact place the light of day was coming from. I began to feel nervous- twitchy even at the thought of some remnants of the night before bearing weight on the potential of such a beautiful day.

I waited as the sky around me turned from a dark fog to a gray-blue. I waited and waited for the smiling face of the sun to oppose the sneer of the moon. But nothing. Beyond the wall of oppressive storm clouds I could see the fragments of flirtatious pinks and golds of a perfect sunrise. I could not help but think of those little specks of humanity able to see such a wonder of nature this morning. I couldn't help but wonder where I needed to be to see the clear new day I longed for.

As the impending gloom threatened rain I began to give up. I was prepared to gather the comforter around me and insert myself back into the gloom of our darkened and barren house. But alas, nature- in it's most reliable of ways; gave me a glimpse of the sun. For only a moment the blood orange halo of the sun broke through and gave way to a small glimpse of the seemingly impossible.. Reminding me that all things are possible when you are relying on something true. In that moment I was breathless, caught unawares of the hope I would see flashed at me for only a moment. I breathed deeply, eager to fill my lungs with something light and so full of possibility- and for a moment; a millisecond, I felt cathartic. I felt free to make my own sunrises and sunsets. I remembered what is was to choose and to choose wisely.

With a small smile I hobbled up to the house and waited for a bed to be free in hopes that I could sleep soon. There is little rest for the weary, but there is no knowing moon watching me any longer. For the first time in a while I feel that when I see that moon again he will be smiling, and he will be smiling for me.

Stories in my Head

Today while checking out at Target I witnessed a pretty trying situation.

A Muslim woman, her husband, and their 4 kids. 3 toddler boys and one infant girl in a stroller. Dad is in line behind us with the boys waiting to check out as well. Mom walks to the other side of me with the girl in the stroller. Who's with her? Oh yah, Richmond police and a handful of Target Security Guards. So I am smack in the middle of this.

Dad and Three Boys ---- ME ---- Mom, Daughter, and Ruin Your Life Brigade

So! The Police Officer is asking the Dad to please take the daughter. The Mom is saying something to the Dad and the Dad is telling the cops that the daughter can't be without her for whatever reason.

Cop says: Sir, she's going to have to learn to be without her real quick.

The Dad says something to the Mom and she puts her head down and follows the Ruin Your Life Brigade somewhere through a doorway. The children instantly start screaming for their mother and I vamoose on out of there.

Apparently she was shoplifting. Or so my cashier told me as I departed. Smooth.

Now, I don't call the Police/ Security the Ruin Your Life Brigade because I think they are bad or anything. I get they are doing their job, and that woman is ruining her own life. But why? Why is she shoplifting?

So I decided to concoct some answers in my own head.

Scenario A. The obvious/ morally hopeful one. The family is so poor that she felt like she needed to. This paints the cops as bad guys and that's usually more fun than them being the hero anyway. But it also means a lose-lose situation.

Scenario B. The boring one/ She's become addicted to stealing. Maybe her husband doesn't spoil her the way she feels is necessary. She satiates this hunger by stealing. She is a bitch.

Scenario C. My favorite/ the demented scenario. Her life is miserable and her husband is a dick. Stealing something with a high dollar amount will give her a night off in jail/ disgrace the family so much that they abandon her and she can have her life back.

What do you think happened?

Being Alone Is Okay

Being Alone

Some of my former students...

DJ Cummings

Chris Baugh

New Chapter?

Sometimes when something is over it never really feels that way. I just had my last day at my first really- real job and it feels like it's still a-buzzing in my life. Part of it is that so many of my friends and acquaintances are affiliated with that job, and part of it is probably because my last day was rather anti-climactic.

I am curious to see if in a week or so it dawns on me. I woke up in a funk this morning and thought at first that it was because my brain was telling my body it was the last time it would ever drag itself up and out of bed to go roam the halls of a school for autism. But then I realized I was just groggy and had slept a little awkwardly as well. I went to work and and did my job, just like I do everyday. We had a celebration as we often do although- embarrassingly enough- it was for me this time. Even then, it's a friday. We all had reports and cleaning to do and everyone wants to go home.

Not to say everyone didn't do a phenomenal job sending me off. I will miss them sincerely. In no other job could I firmly believe that my co-workers were in fact my friends and that they cared about me. Not to mention any little shitty thing that happens at this job generally isn't bullshit- unlike other jobs I've worked in. Not that it is devoid of bullshit, or bullshit free if you will.. Just adequately logical.

I am getting ready to turn to a new chapter in my life and it is a little daunting. Never before have I embarked on a journey where I was not completely sure I would succeed at my endeavors. This may be because it is the most responsibility and freedom I've ever been given in a job, or it might be because it's something I want legitimately to be good at. I want to be a great teacher and I know from experience that "great teacher" is more easily said than done. I have the knowledge they want and need, I only hope I can deliver it in a manner that is worth everyone's time and energy.

I have big dreams and very tangible fears for this job. I'm wishing myself luck and the sanity to keep on trucking... even though I really loathe that saying.

peace in the middle east, hasta pasta fazoli, and whatever parting sayings I thought were cool when I was 12.

Today we are thanking MTV for doing something right.

I used to read Sam Kieth's The Maxx and then MTV (before it took all of my dreams away and became the joke it is today) had MTV Oddities and funded the creation of The Maxx animated series.

Oddities ended as the era of Real World and other reality based party shows took over. This was sad. Despite being relatively easy to watch on the internet I found that the copies of The Maxx one could find were by and large poor in quality.

Today through much finagling, I discovered that MTV has the episodes available on their website. This is like wet-dream happiness to me.

Watch Me and Learn How Weird Tori Is.

Leap of Faith/ Work in Progress

I am currently working on some paintings for a show this fall/ winter. I decided to paint in gouache; which I've never used, and to paint self portraits. I haven't done any self portraits in a long time. Here is an example of a first attempt:


It's in process still, but I really like the color concept. I need to blend everything a little more so it flows a bit more from blue to green. I have four to five of these that I am working on that will be available alone or as a whole piece. It's difficult to explain. You'll see.

High Schoolsong List

In one of my old sketchbooks from high school I found one of Tye Bernick's assignments:

Compile a list and burn a CD of 10 - 15 songs that will each individually represent an event that has taken or is taking place in your life, which is significant emotionally, or in some other fashion. (Each song will be representative of a different event, person whom has affected you, so that it will be like a soundtrack of significant events in your life).

-These songs need to belong on a CD together: choose carefully.
** NOTE: You may of course put your own music on the CD. The original concept was to relate your feelings about something to another person's music; however, if you compose or perform you may certainly use music of your own.**

There was also a written aspect in our journals, but I'll leave that to your imagination. Here are the songs and the order I chose:

1.Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody
2. Dance Hall Crasher's Queen for a Day
3. No Doubt's Artificial Sweetener
4. Q and not U's Soft Pyramids
5. Napoleon XVII's They're Coming to Take Me Away
6. System of a Down's Spiders
7. Mindless Self Indulgence's Bed of Roses
8. Neutral Milk Hotel's Holland 1945
9. Missy Elliot's Work It
10. Nine Inch Nails' Closer
11. Sublime's Paddle Out/ Wrong Way from Vans Warped Tour Mix
12. Weezer's Pink Triangle
13. Poe's A Rose is A Rose
14. Nancy Sinatra's These Boots Are Made for Walking
15. The Flying Lizards' What I Want
16. Radiohead's Creep
17. Clint Mansell and the Cronos Quartet's Summer Overture

I am thinking about continuing this list. What would I add now that it's been almost 10 years? I see a summer project.

Favorite Quotes

"I love you. Not like they told you love is, and I didn't know this either, but love don't make things nice - it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren't here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us! We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and die. The storybooks are bullshit. Now I want you to come upstairs with me and get in my bed!" - Nicholas Cage as Ronnie Camareri "I don't need the nicotine patch Penny, I smoke cigarettes." - Stranger Than Fiction "i'm not a player, i just crush a lot." two quotes from the one and only, T.B.; former high school art teacher: "Your birth was worthless." and "You're used goods now." "just let him take you to dinner and eat you out." - janna "who needs God when you've got Tori?" - Jody "i listened to the old bray of my heart: i am, i am, i am." -sylvia plath "well, i didn't consider a relationship with him until i realized he has all these qualities other people like." - max "I am a meat popsicle"- The Fifth Element “in schools, we create artificial learning environments for our children that they know to be contrived and undeserving of their full attention and engagement. Without the opportunity to learn through the hands, the world remains abstract and distant, and the passions for learning will not be engaged.” - Doug Stowe, shop teacher Hope dies last.

Happiness

The Rain

by Robert Creeley

Robert Creeley

All night the sound had

come back again,

and again falls

this quiet, persistent rain.

What am I to myself

that must be remembered,

insisted upon

so often? Is it

that never the ease,

even the hardness,

of rain falling

will have for me

something other than this,

something not so insistent—

am I to be locked in this

final uneasiness.

Love, if you love me,

lie next to me.

Be for me, like rain,

the getting out

of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi-

lust of intentional indifference.

Be wet

with a decent happiness.

I have always loved the number of meanings found in this poem. The sound of rain and the many references and images it conjures combined with the bitterness of one's own vices. This combined with the very literal sexual imagery makes for a very complete picture of what love and happiness can mean in one's own life.

I often think of this poem when I consider the concept of happiness and how in so many ways we stand in our own way. How often do we simply refuse to be happy and how often are we drenched in a happiness that is beyond our control? When is the happiness something that takes over us rather than something we provoke?

I am constantly looking for this legitimacy in everything. I have realized that more often than not I am only unhappy because I have absolutely made up my mind that it can be no other way. And at other times the sadness is so legitimately bitter that it turns into an ethereal kind of emptiness that swallows me in it's darkness.

These are quiet, persistent, and dark times for me these days. There's so much waiting for me in the not so distant future while there's also so much tearing at me as I pull away. In the end I am occasionally displeased. With all of it, but customarily hopeful that things happen for reasons I will rarely grasp but that are ultimately good for me and everyone else. And in saying so I sometimes grasp an understanding of what hope is and try my best to make sense of it. The issue here is that hope is not something that can be logic-ed. Hope is for the irrational, the impossible, and the best of dreams. I cannot hope to understand it, but like happiness am afraid that I will simply talk myself out of it again and again.

"Create like a god, command like a king, work like a slave." -Brancusi

I went and humiliated myself in Zumba today. I have never been and wasn't quite sure what I was up for. I figured as long as I was sweating I was doing good. WELL. I like dancing. I even enjoy choreographed dancing. However, it was hard to keep up. By the time I figured the steps out they moved on to a new one and then I would do the entire rotation once. The last one before the song ended. This was a little frustrating because I want to be shaking that ass correctly and in time with the music/ everyone else. It's not the looking stupid that bothers me so much. Even if I looked good doing it I would still think I looked ridiculous. Luckily I learned to get over my dancing ridiculousness a long time ago and just have fun instead. They did do Thriller, which I sadly- know how to do fairly well. Aside from that, I learned that my natural step is three times as long as everyone else's- so I'd end up on the other side of the room if I got over zealous with my dancing.

So do I run away and never go back again? No, this hard headed rhythmspastic lady will return until she can get down with everyone else. It will probably help that next time I won't do 2 miles on the treadmill and a mile on the bike. That way my legs will feel less like rubber bands.

On another note, I need to make some art. And soon. I am thinking about forcing myself to paint again this weekend. I haven't done it in a long time and it never has as immediate results as three dimensional work so I often grow frustrated. I guess I can't complain too much. I showed only two months ago and have made something new since then. It just seems scary to me to show work that you've already shown. It makes you seem all cobwebby.

Thus, I am working on myself as my own work of art, and I am going to work on something more easily accessible than that- painting and drawing. I think it's time to get that library book on the history of lace that I had been perseverating on. Also, does anyone with long dark hair plan on cutting a lot of it off soon and giving me some in a little ponytail? Pleeeeaaase? I have a piece dying to be finished so someone can pay me for it already.

Disney World

My mother is going to Disney World in a few days. I didn't want to go because I really dislike Disney World. Besides, if I went to Florida this is what I would want to do:

Key West

Everglades

Salvador Dali Museum

Cirque Du Soleil: Kooza

Maybe something else. But those are the ones I'm excited about.

Das Weekend.

New Kent High School to creep stalk/ Virginia Beach for Dominion Derby Girls

This is for my little brother.

For the Doubters

For those of you who saw no reason for me to contribute time and energy to Guatemala. For those of you who vowed that and unpaid internship with a non-profit bringing art to indigenous children in a Central American Country would not boost my resume. For those of you who can't see why I would want to spend my vacation time working for free in schools constructed out of cinderblocks and unfinished rebar.

You can suck it. Big time.

I landed a job that will pay for me to go to other countries and work within the arts. So. You know. In your face.

That's what she has to say about it.

New Quote.

I think she was raised in a convent- as in she had no parents. Well, she had biological parents but was raised by nuns.

Because you need to clarify that she has biological parents. Like she's kin with Jesus or something.

Also, this is a photo of me in my contacts/ in sunglasses. I haven't worn sunglasses since I was 17. This may seem stupid to you. But this is exciting to me.

Grandma Quote Numero Dos

Grandma: Did this used to be cobblestone?
Me: It is cobblestone.
Grandma: Oooooooh. That's nice.

Making Contact

Things are looking up if only slightly. This is meant to be a bad joke/ comment on the general state of things: today I got contacts for the first time.

I have been slow going to this whole "pretend you don't need glasses game" because I was playing the "denial about needing glasses game" for far longer than most. I didn't get glasses until I was almost 18, and at that point in my life... well let's face it- I barely wore them. As my propensity for driving myself to and fro set in it became apparent that I really needed to wear them in order to see things at a distance. That's why I got them to begin with. While driving with my mother we played the "when can you see the street sign" game. I could only see them when we were less than 20 feet away from them- so basically as they were going by the car.

Anyhow, by the time I went to college I was wearing my glasses all the time. So that was 2003ish. Here we are almost 7 years later, and I am finally getting contacts. I guess it may seem weird that I am 25 and getting contacts for the first time, but really... I mean most people get glasses at some point in their early years of grade school. So let's say... 2nd grade. That puts you at 9th grade and getting contacts. I don't think that's so unbelievable. Is it?

I must say the first thing I am noticing about having contacts is being able to see everything. With glasses on you can see, but you lack all around vision. Where the lens stops- so does your vision. It never occurred to me that it worked that way since that's just the way it always was. I didn't know anything different. So far it's a little weird and my eyes feel tired already. Oh well. We'll see how I feel about it in a week.

Time to De-stress

I have been having a couple of stressful days. They things come in threes, so I either have gotten all three or I am waiting on one. It's unclear yet as to whether or not the occurrence I identify as #3 right now is accurately identified.

I am also fairly certain that this same sort of stuff happens to me every year around the same time. I need to figure out a way to break the cycle. Cycles are tricky given that life tends to be cyclical. You can't always win against nature. I mean, gravity always wins.

Here are two things that make me giggle:



This one because you can see that the little girl is barely holding it together. She is going to lose it and start laughing at any moment.



Best example of parenthood ever.

This is funny.

I wonder how long it will take FoxNews to respond to this.

Grandma Quote

I think at least once a week I am going to post a quote from Grandma and see what people think.

Quote #1

Context: Driving down the road, seeing a robust woman.

"You know Judge Joe Brown? They have all those big women on the shows and the black men love those women. They can just put their penis anywhere and have sex. Then they cheat on those women and those big women always take them back."

I am merging this from my old blog:

Thursday, February 14, 2008
So today is Valentine's Day which is of course allowing me to dwell on the past. There are a few ironies in existence today, one is the irony that I taught today and saw all of the giggly girls clutch badly dyed carnations to their developed and not so developed chests in earnest exaltation. This constantly begs the question; was I like this too? And also, despite the fact that this is my first time being single on VDay I haven't had an excellent example of Valentine goodness since high school. On another side note, for the first time in my life I have a normal schedule that matches that of several of my exes, ironically I am not with any of them anymore when it would in fact, be convenient. Go figure.

But this isn't all about bitching. In all actuality I am looking forward to being just me on this Valentine's Day without the prerequisite mental attachment and worry that goes along with having a significant other. No, I will see no flowers and go to no fancy dinner, but I will have a peace of mind and no pressure.


and, end transmission.
posted by tori at 2:02 PM 0 comments


Sunday, January 27, 2008
Because my contributions to the Darfur project are long since over and the project is in more capable hands this is my blog again. So for the sake of my own whimsy:

The littlest worm
(The littlest worm)
You ever saw
(You ever saw)
Got stuck inside
(Got stuck inside)
My soda straw
(My soda straw)
The littlest worm you ever saw
Got stuck inside my soda straw

He said to me
(He said to me)
"Don't take a sip
("Don't take a sip)
'Cause if you do
('Cause if you do)
You'll get real sick" [alternate: "I'll really flip"]
(You'll get real sick) [alternate: "I'll really flip"]
He said to me, "Don't take a sip,
'Cause if you do, you'll get real sick" [alternate: "I'll really flip"]

So lip to lip
(So lip to lip)
And squirm to squirm
(And squirm to squirm)
Try drinking so-
(Try drinking so-)
da through a worm
(da through a worm.)
So lip to lip and squirm to squirm
Try drinking soda through a worm.

I took a sip
(I took a sip)
And he went down
(And he went down)
Right through my pipe
(Right through my pipe)
He must have drowned
(He must have drowned)
I took a sip and he went down
Right through my pipe, he must have drowned

He was my pal
(He was my pal)
He was my friend
(He was my friend)
There is no more
(There is no more)
This is the end
(This is the end)
He was my pal, he was my friend
There is no more, this is the end.

My mother and I used to sing that when we took showers together when I was a little girl. I have been thinking of the gleaming moments of my childhood lately and wishing.. well, trying to remember if they ever happened.
posted by tori at 7:50 PM 1 comments


Friday, November 17, 2006


Yesterday I watched a documentary called 'War Photographer' about James Nachtwey. Nachtwey has been photographing wars and poverty since the mid 80s and has produced some of the most astounding work I have ever seen.



In the documentary he said one thing that was extremely powerful for me;
"It's occurred to me that if everyone could be there.... just once to see for themselves what white phosphorous does to the face of a child...... or what unspeakable pain is caused by the impact of a single bullet, or how a jagged piece of shrapnel can rip someone's leg off.... If everyone could be there to see for themselves the fear.... and the grief..... just one time.... then they would understand that nothing is worth letting things get to the point where that happens.... to even one person let alone thousands... But everyone cannot be there- and that is why photographers go there to show them, to reach out and grab them and make them stop what they are doing and pay attention to what is going on...... to create pictures powerful enough to overcome the deluding effects of the mass media..... and shake people out of their indifference to protest, and by the strength of that protest to make others protest."

Here are some of his photographs so that you know what I am talking about..




Now, obviously I am not a photographer, filmmaker nor a journalist. But I am a person who cares and wants others to be informed. I commend the filmmakers of Darfur Diaries for making such an avid attempt at spreading the word about the situation in Darfur. As I have mentioned to many the screening here in Richmond was an amazing success turning out more than seven hundred people. The only fault I found in the entire program was the artwork. Now that is not to say that the work was not good or that it was not important to the event. The problem was the art was for sale with the intentions of donating all of the proceeds to the refugees of Darfur. This is a wonderful idea except for the fact that the screening was advertised as being free and there was no mention of the art sale. This posed a problem as the artwork was priced anywhere from 600 to 1000 dollars. Needless to say, a crowd of 700 with no inkling of and idea that money would need to be spent was not very suscpetible to the idea of purchasing work that they probably couldn't afford anyway. Now, like I said, I thought the idea of selling work for the purposes of aiding Darfur was genius- just the style in which they were doing it wasn't.

Now I have two motives here; I want to give aid to the people of Darfur and I want to spread the word about the Darfurian conflict. In mulling over this in my mind I remembered another relatively unsuccessful art project that occurred several years ago in regards to Hurricane Katrina. A professor in the Art Education department organized a show in which she collected small works from local artists, college students, and public school students for the sake of selling them and donating the profits to Katrina relief. I felt that the show went relatively well but did not do as well as hoped because of the small mindedness of it.
The curator of the show put a lot of limitations on the artists and differentiated between what size you could do based on what level artist you were- for example, a professional artist was allowed to make a piece 24 in by 24 in or smaller and had to price it between 20 and 50 dollars while an art professor could make a piece 12 in by 12 in and price it between 10 and 20 dollars, and an art student could make a piece 6 in by 6 in or smaller and price it for 5 to 10 dollars and so on. Basically, it failed I think because it became more about the heirarchy of art then about aiding people.
As a result I have manipulated that idea and brought it to a much larger scale. I want to create a show to open here at First Fridays in Richmond with work the size of postcards or smaller that ranges in price from 1 to 20 dollars. Everyone will have that same restriction and price range. The more important part is that I want there to be not just hundreds of post card sized work to choose from, but thousands, hopefully hundreds of thousands. The idea is to send e-mails out to all of the major art schools, public school systems, in every major city across the U.S. and call for entries. Artists simply have to label the work with their name, title, sale price and contact info and send it to me in the mail. Just think of it, a huge art school could just put a box in the hall of one of their buildings and students could just drop the work off in it. The school could set their own deadline, pick up the box at the end of their deadline date and ship it to me. Sounds like it has some kinks right? Who cares, it can all be worked out.
In the mean time I have already gotten myself an appointment with one of the big wigs in the Dean's office to talk about networking this idea around to as many major schools as possible. So not only am I finding a way to raise money for the Darfurians, but I am also getting the word out to the art community in the U.S. about the situation in Darfur. The idea is that the show will only be up here for a week and we will sell as much as we can in that week. At the end of the week we take the remaining artwork and ship it to a gallery in say, Baltimore. They put the show up and sell more work. Maybe we could even have multiple deadlines on a webpage or something like that, so the gallery in Baltimore has been receiving some work of it's own all along as well, and from there it goes to NYC, to Philadelphia, to Boston, to Chicago.. EVERYWHERE.
The show would occur in every major city in the United States each with their own deadlines so that each city would have a huge body of work to choose from. I need to catch my breath. Anyhow. As of right now I am working on finding a gallery here in town that would be interested in showcasing this brainchild of mind. A gallery with connections to other galleries in other cities would be most preferrable but we will simply do what we can. I'm no James Nachtwey, but I know that I can do something too.
posted by tori at 3:54 PM 2 comments

Thursday, November 16, 2006
Success! Today in a meeting of the Senate Seantor Dick Durbin (D-Ill.) addressed the situation in Darfur. If you missed it I am sure sorry for you. As a response I sent him the following e-mail:

Dear Senator Durbin,
Last weekend I had the wonderful opportunity to view a documentary called 'Darfur Diaries' here in my city and to meet one of it's filmmakers. I was curious about the film as I had never heard of Darfur. In experiencing the film and understanding the situation in Sudan on a more complete level I found myself to be greatly shocked by the fact that there had been very little media coverage on the situation and that the U.N. nor the U.S. had made any real effort to put a stop to the genocide in that country. Today as I watched my television I saw something I thought I would never see. To make a long story short, I had the wonderful honor of witnessing the eloquent and moving speech you made before the Senate addressing Darfur. I wanted to thank-you for making an effort to address this situation but wanted to encourage you to take action. You mentioned in your speech tonight that all you could do was give a speech. Is this so? Is there really nothing else to be done? The showing of 'Darfur Diaries' here in Richmond turned out more than 700 people. This was not only the largest screening they had ever experienced for the film but also the museum they were showing it in's largest crowd. I only mention this as a means of expressing to you that we the average, everyday citizens do in fact care about what is happening to the Darfurians. I know that I speak on the behalf of many when I say that the United States needs to intervene if the U.N. will not. I feel that the death and destruction caused by Darfur's genocide is currently just as important as the situation in Iraq. I was under the impression that the U.S. had declared war on Terrorism. Is the situation in Darfur not terrorist in nature? How can the U.S. government make such a blanket statement of 'War on Terrorism' as a means of justifying their decision to occupy Iraq but do nothing for the millions suffering from terrorism all over the world. Please Senator, tell me there is something that can be done and that you will make some effort. As you do have a position in a public office I need not remind you that it should be considered an honor by you that the people of your state elected you. In electing you they had the greatest of hopes that you will keep in mind their interests and concerns. I am not a resident of your state but a citizen of this country. I felt that as a citizen it is my right and my expectation to reach out to you because you expressed interest and concern for Darfur. I cannot express to you how excited I am to have heard you speak tonight. I hope you are not afraid to speak of it again in the future even if they aren't listening. They have to hear you if you say it enough. Also, do you know what we- the average citizens can do? Someone must do something, someone must take a stand.
With the greatest of hopes,
Victoria Lynn Kesling

It is not the best written piece of politics I ever wrote. But it will do.
posted by tori at 8:49 PM 2 comments

An old poem, but it still works.

I wrote this poem back before Common Groundz closed and I could still sit in on Open Mic Nights once a week. I never performed this one, but it was written between people's performances. At the time I was writing it for someone else's situation. Now it is funny how it can become so much more personal. It's rather adolescent in a way, but that's alright. It's performative qualities are there, but in terms of a simply written poem it lacks in innovation. I have revised it some to carry more meaning for myself. When it's personal, it's easier to perform with conviction.


don't love me anymore?
(beat)
can't figure how that can be true-
because after all
all that's happened
I somehow
still love you.

those years flew
and I have lost
- love
I have lost soul
-lost
the ability to renew.

today- I put together the shards
of a broken heart
still
still thinking of you-
of your touch
and of how
how you loved me so-
loved me so much.

Can't help.
Help waiting for you
to walk back
Back into my life
but
when you do-

I will know
know.
to give it up
to live it up
just-
to live
live. without. you.

I still love you,
the you of yesterday-
but I do not love
this man.
the you
who left me
that day.

I cannot accept
your offer
now
you are a stranger
in the crowd
I cannot love you,
because I no longer know how.


Here is one of my favorite peoms:

Where You Go When She Sleeps
By T.R. Hummer

What is it when a woman sleeps, her head bright
In your lap, in your hands, her breath easy now as though it had never been
Anything else, and you know she is dreaming, her eyelids
Jerk, but she is not troubled, it is a dream
That does not include you, but you are not troubled either,
It is too good to hold her while she sleeps, her hair falling
Richly on your hands, shining like metal, a color
That when you think of it you cannot name, as though it has just
Come into existence, dragging you into the world in the wake
Of its creation, out of whatever vacuum you were in before,
And you are like the boy you heard of once who fell
Into a silo full of oats, the silo emptying from below, oats
At the top swirling in a gold whirlpool, a bright eddy of grain, the boy
You imagine, leaning over the edge to see it, the noon sun breaking
Into the center of the circle he watches, hot on his back, burning
And he forgets his father’s warning, stands on the edge, looks down,
The grain spinning, dizzy, and when he falls his arms go out, too thin
For wings, and he hears his father’s cry somewhere, but is gone
Already, down in a gold sea, spun deep in the heart of the silo,
And when they find him, he lies still, not seeing the world
Through his body but through the deep rush of grain
Where he has gone and can never come back, though they drag him
Out, his father’s tears bright on both their faces, the farmhands
Standing by blank and amazed - you touch that unnamable
Color in her hair and you are gone into what is not fear or joy
But a whirling of sunlight and water and air full of shining dust
That takes you, a dream that is not of you but will let you
Into itself if you love enough, and will not, will never let you go.

I'll have to find the last poem I performed at open mic night. I have no idea where it might have gone.

Tomorrow, Backwards.

The phrase refers to something one of my nephews told me once. He was trying to find a way of explaining the idea of "yesterday" but did not know the word for it yet. In his best estimation he came up with "tomorrow, but backwards". It is interesting to me to consider the fact that at a preschool age his knowledge of a concept of past was only starting to develop. This of course relates to the child development and psychology. Freud and the whole gang would tell me that this occurrence is due to the fact that my nephew has not yet developed a concept of others and is still only focused on self. He therefor, has very little personal history of his own and does not consider the past very often. He is able to say He wacthed something or played something but doesn't necessarily know all of the vocabulary associated with the past. Hence- no knowledge of the word yesterday.

This got me thinking: with only a future and no past what kind of differences would we see in our lives? If we only focused on the tomorrow and made decisions solely based on possibility and not our innate knowledge of what has worked for us previously what kind of decisions might we make instead of the ones we currently make?

So let's consider this alternate universe. We can't without looking at studies of people with no capacity for memory. So how about a more literal translation. What if tomorrow did come but it was in fact backwards? What do you think that would mean? What is the sun going to do?

Invisibility

in·vis·i·ble 

–adjective

1. not visible; not perceptible by the eye: invisible fluid.

2. withdrawn from or out of sight; hidden: an invisible seam.

3. not perceptible or discernible by the mind: invisible differences.

4. not ordinarily found in financial statements or reflected in statistics or a listing: Goodwill is an invisible asset to a business.

5. concealed from public knowledge.

–noun

6. an invisible thing or being.

7. the invisible, the unseen or spiritual world.

I have been feeling somewhat invisible or transparent lately. This came from a lot of different sources. I was reflecting on the fact that in an younger and less mature stage of my life I might be lashing out right now and drawing as much attention to myself as possible. I am lucky enough to be aware of the fact that despite wanting attention I cannot settle on any attention given.

This is to say that I understand that I am looking for attention of a specific kind from specific sources. It is a catch 22 because I am receiving unwanted attention in other areas of my life.

Part of me also wonders if I want to be transparent in some ways. Do I want to go unnoticed? Under the radar? Perhaps. Duck my head down and be safe. Something like that. Maybe. Maybe I just want to be another person in the beating heart of humanity. We pulse along mostly unnoticed and non-existent in the greater scheme of things.

But what's the point? What on earth am I talking about? I guess I am just jotting these fleeting thoughts down. In case I need them later- in case I find clarity. I'll be able to pinpoint the origination of these thoughts and ideas. I suppose we all feel alone sometimes, but it is especially strange when one feels alone among familiar things and people.

Being the least significant person in a person's life for whom you should mean a lot too is a very strange place to be. That is where I am and on some level it is a relief to be so trivial. Without importance your thoughts and actions are free to be whatever you wish. So am I liberated or am I weighted down by the lack of gravity in my existence?

Now that I have regurgitated all of these thoughts and feelings on the subject- no matter how convoluted.. I think I'll go draw it out and get somewhere with all of this.