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Third place. A golden hued metal, yet not as valuable as first and second place. The colour of the beach goddess, and a zen summons.

Posted By Ange On 03.28.2013 @ 3:50 pm

A baby is the most precious thing that two people can have. A bay is wonderful, sometimes he pees on his pants..and makes a lot of disasters, but they are cute and pure. There is nothing compared with a baby’s laugh..it’s

Posted By ange On 01.29.2013 @ 2:47 pm

It’s strange, I feel as though I don’t have many but perhaps I do and that’s scary. The more experiences the more mistakes and I hate mistakes. FUCK mistakes and things that suck because shitty things are shitty and oh I forgot there might be good ones

Posted By Ange On 01.06.2013 @ 12:00 am

i stir my pasta when it is bowling and i stir my tea to make it taste good. I love stir fried chicken and stir with a spoon, never a fork.

Posted By Ange On 12.15.2012 @ 11:58 am

alights the night horizon. my daughter loves. I stretch to see. take flight. folded and created.

Posted By ange On 07.03.2011 @ 3:56 pm

the way my heart feels as i walk through the old growth forest and think about what there is to lose.

Posted By ange On 04.23.2011 @ 3:39 am

I love styrofoam my husband would fill a room with styrofoam in fact once he did he came home with a HUUUUUge pile of foam that was headed for the dumpster put it in our barn and 5 years later used it to insulate his new building.

Posted By Ange On 04.22.2011 @ 4:59 pm

when the words i fear to scrawl will rise and fall from my eyes into yours because i love you and i will hold no truth and tell no lie.

Posted By ange On 04.08.2011 @ 6:33 pm

I bought a painting today. I commissioned the artist. I asked for something about freedom. He gave me nebulae.

Posted By ange On 04.03.2011 @ 4:52 am

never assume too much. even in the corporate arena with all its structure and ice, one can still find the kindred souls who wish to dance in the forest.

Posted By ange On 03.30.2011 @ 4:04 am

what i was born i was long. I am still long. and still shaping my days from the magician in my heart.

Posted By ange On 03.19.2011 @ 5:01 pm

there are at least ten wands about my home. various lengths and different degrees of bedazzlement and sound.

Posted By Ange On 03.14.2011 @ 3:17 am

The honey thing was really strange. Together with the scarves, it was a truly unusual obsession. Aspen couldn’t remember how or why it had begun but it was fierce.

Posted By ange On 03.12.2011 @ 2:29 pm

Aspen’s obsession had begun with plain versions but now involved many a pattern and texture. And then there was the honey…

Posted By ange On 03.11.2011 @ 5:47 pm

I am.

Posted By ange On 03.10.2011 @ 11:46 am

He will dance for her to win her. He and so many millions of others. For the queen. How will his dance differ?

Posted By ange On 03.09.2011 @ 1:54 am

Aspen had this thing. He couldn’t control it. It had become an obsession. It was time consuming and sometimes involved great pain. But there was no choice. He had been told by that voice that it must be done.

Posted By ange On 03.04.2011 @ 1:59 pm

an arrow points to the centre most point of the point and there is no wavering or indecision even though this rambling imbues the very opposite of its subject.

Posted By ange On 03.03.2011 @ 2:54 am

Strong are the branches that hold me. I fly to him and rest there and then burrow into the opening he makes. There, I die and decompose and become one with him. I, the bird. He, the great oak. And I am reborn in the veins of his being whilst instead of leaves, his branches sprout feathers.

Posted By ange On 02.26.2011 @ 9:05 pm

He sits and listens to the heartbreak of two teenagers and his gaze rests upon the evil step-mother. He questions the law that will deny them.

Posted By ange On 02.23.2011 @ 2:34 pm

she is the light and wisdom of many ages in a body that was wrongly cast but to whom I know as goddess and friend. when she speaks I feel the night sky cast its truth into my open heart.

Posted By ange On 02.21.2011 @ 12:23 am

I will hold them close to my chest but if you bother to look closely enough, see the way I fan and fold the corners and reveal the message I am too afraid to speak aloud.

Posted By ange On 02.19.2011 @ 2:13 pm

i can hear a man singing in the mist and heat of the evening. There is no need to be wrapped in coats and wool. His song blankets the night as it turns toward the deep heart.

Posted By ange On 02.17.2011 @ 1:55 am

and there it ignites and shoots its brilliant light upward into a dark night and i am home and i am safe in the depths of you with the night sky and its millions of pinholes bearing witness.

Posted By ange On 02.16.2011 @ 2:06 am

Jeff Buckley sings in the 14 minute live version of Mojo Pin, “Your love melts like chocolate on the tongue of God”. Sexy as hell.

Posted By ange On 02.14.2011 @ 4:42 pm

so bruised and torn somewhere that strength must again be borne. This will happen to too few. Brokenness haunts the aching soul.

Posted By ange On 02.10.2011 @ 2:21 am

The scent of her hair intoxicates me. It’s fragrance calls me to follow and fantasise. I press my body to hers and feel her curves sing over me.

Posted By ange On 02.09.2011 @ 3:36 am

distress. snooze. why oh fucking why? an expression that reads clearly upon the face and in the eyes. A sound that causes and expression upon the face and beneath the eyelids.

Posted By ange On 02.07.2011 @ 3:16 pm

the word troll just reaches out and yet behind control is fear, and behind fear is the small child whose life was bruised too young.

Posted By Ange On 02.06.2011 @ 2:14 am

the hand that reaches for stars and can never quite reach…

Posted By Ange On 02.05.2011 @ 3:14 am