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:iconkillcaiti:

~killcaiti

and the spiders from mars.
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shed your skin, let the sun shine in

Journal Entry: Mon Nov 9, 2009, 6:12 PM


And I thought, God, he must be good,
If we've all gone through him,
One at a time, each of us warning the other
In some jealous fit of self-righteousness
Disguised as protection or advice or admonition
About everything we knew before we experienced it.
And I thought, God, this kid is good,
Because we still know his name,
And he snared everyone, everyone!
And I alone sidestepped his invitations,
Each little plea, each little question, each outstretched hand;
I regretted it, missed the pale palm, missed the wide eyes. (Blue. Green? Blue.)
I alone was most perceptibly untainted by him –
And I alone carry him with me.
God, he must have been amazing in some way
(I forget now)
To get us all, us tight-knit girls,
And have us chomping at the bits of envy and lust;
He must have been good
For me to care enough to spare him his final conquering.



update 11/9
thanks for the DLD on "Occurrence at a Certain Bridge" [link]
:heart:



well, I need to post something better.

I do have a figure drawing class, and art III at my high school. that's about it.
I've been writing a book and its a selfish little habit.
I've been swamped with schoolwork that I love to slack on.

A million and ten things have changed since August.

I'll probably get a year subscription for Christmas.
(And art supplies, and a new phone, and a down blanket.)

I need to stop doing everything so half-heartedly, half-assed, half-finished.
I need to stop being mediocre.

I need to read some stuff, draw some stuff, do some college stuff, make some money, get my license, plan a life.

:heart::heart:
in the three minutes i took to write this journal, i got two pageviews.
Haha, thanks for making me feel better about myself :aww:

9 Comments
  • Mood: Tired
  • Listening to: Taking Back Sunday
  • Reading: Lolita
  • Watching: Star Trek
Skin by `ginkgografix

hello, hello again

Fri Aug 7, 2009, 4:53 PM
  • Mood: Adoration
  • Listening to: Queen
  • Reading: The Last of the Mohicans
I just got home from PA! It was wonderful, as always. :heart:


I came back to this amazing feature from *TazzyDee: [link]
and it's so awesome! I really appreciate it.

So I will have things to post - writing, hopefully, since I'm feeling inspired,
and maybe some photos, although I'm not sure if I got anything good.
I wish traditional art, but my sketchbooks and scanner don't mix...
Oh! and a bunch of stock for the ~killcaiti-stock account.
But anyways, thank you everyone and maybe I'll make this journal interesting at a later date. :typerhappy:


:heart: :heart:


PS!
happy ninth birthday, deviantART! mwah!



__________________________

& another thank you for this amazing feature for A Rib of Adam: [link]


:heart:


________________________________________ _________
edit
Okay, I think I'm gonna have a huge gallery clean out.
Anything old or generally unliked will go into scraps.. and then I will excavate scraps on a basis of personal taste.
Good idea?

No Comments

young

Mon Jul 27, 2009, 9:13 PM
  • Mood: Eager
  • Listening to: Cars going by
  • Reading: Heart of Darkness & Wives and Daughter
He walks like there's nothing on his shoulders
but his shirt (a relic, ripped-up, borrowed or stolen)
despite the leaden yolk of having lived for eighteen years too long.
He's got a stake in the sky, a good one,
next to a golden crescent laze of moon that hangs diagonal from Venus,
singing bright lovesongs to the dark.
He's got a name in watercolor clouds that streak across the eternally distant horizon.
He's got a face in oils, lovely too, textured across a canvas,
but with so many fake smiles it's all just brush strokes, anymore:
color and beauty, and blue background, vibrant as a Van Gogh -
just a moment of captured motion. Nothing more, nothing real.
He doesn't even have wrinkles yet.
He admits he's just a kid, in that bright acrylic way he has,
with laughter (or a trick of the lighting that looks like laughter)
in inked eyes, opened as they've never been.
There's young breath in those spraypaint lungs he has.
Well, so it seems youth tends to paint itself
a portrait both of future and of fault -
and he has managed to spread himself from brush tips and pen nibs
onto every goddamned page I've got.



__

i wish that was about someone i knew...

__

mkay cool journal cait

2 Comments

well,

Tue Jul 14, 2009, 9:32 PM
  • Mood: Stuck
  • Reading: The Return of the Native
because all of my earthly desires are entirely satisfied by a pencil and paper.










that's always half the prompt :aww:





i need:

time
dedication
inspiration
(not you, boy :heart:)

No Comments

<3

Fri Jun 26, 2009, 7:41 PM
  • Mood: Anxious
  • Reading: The Return of the Native
I could never be an artist as a profession.









The artist as a writer, maybe. People can't put pages on tee shirts.




























A THEME IN A WORK OF LITERATURE IS NOT ONE WORD.
IF IT ISN'T A SENTENCE, IT ISN'T A THEME.
i wish everyone knew this.

that's what happens when i read motivational tutorials

2 Comments
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