i've been knitting my ass off lately, and it just occurred to me that i haven't taken a picture of a single damn thing i've made. so as a reminder, list of finished objects to take photos of ( Read more... )

( are you cold? )

( all things are delicately interconnected: Truisms by Jenny Holzer )

i had to sew a zipper into a purse last night; it was originally a christmas gift for my sister-in-law, zipperless, but i offered to put one in for her and she accepted. so it's been sitting atop my knitting basket since january, because i'm a dirty great procrastinator. i told myself, and her, that i'd have it finished and bring it with me this ( Read more... )

from BBC news, boy "pregnant" with twin brothersince before he could understand words, it cried and whispered to the boy and it grew inside of him, a bitter mystery of hair and bone. there was always a vague pain, like embers smoldering away merrily inside his abdomen. when he did certain things (things that made him content or joyful) the fire ( Read more... )

winter has descended, collapsing onto the landscape like a drunk onto his prom date.
the snow makes its own serpentine designs on the roads, hypnotizing and seductive and i realize that i can see how the air moves as things move through it, highlighted as it is by whiteness.

we are fighting fish in separate bowls, eyeing each other warily.
utterly separate, and lonesome.

i've been thinking in haiku lately. it's something that happens to me intermittently. there are no white chickens in my haiku. no icebox plums. no red wheelbarrow, either ( Read more... )

...you are a jack-o-lantern, the light to which my lepidopteric self is drawn, with the sultry promise of immolation at your center.

the trees are bent double like septuagenarians with their burden of ice. everything sparkles in sodium lamplight, dipped in glass and so cold. icicles hang from everywhere but they don't touch me. nothing touches me tonight. i am faraway, invisible and dancing cheek to cheek with the only warm thing for miles.