Archive for May, 2009
Field Notes: There is a woman who collects red things. Ties them to her body as if it is blood. I imagine a pile of red in the yard, the red flowers they blossom into. Gardenias. I fill the blood-tree with my powder. I rub my powder onto its bark. This is the moment where I could not bend. There were no branches to become, to become them. To be Carnations.
p.s. I hope you have been visiting kaleidoscopefluff.
A house on fire is to a group of ants building a lifeboat as a gigantic tornado inside the sun is to the rawness of the color yellow.
A tale of necks.