I have lost and loved and won and cried myself to the person I am today.
My wish has always been to write my own story, to create a life that’s worth writing about. But is a story worth anything at all if I have no one to tell it to?
You can quiz me on Petrarch, Medea, Shakespeare or Dante, I know them all, and I’m sorry, but they’ve all gone wrong. Dumb glorified men, writing words about love and life as if they knew. As far as I’m concerned, they didn’t make it out aliv...
I was running and deliberately lost my way. The world far off and nothing but my breath and the very next step and it’s like hypnosis. The feeling of conquering my own aliveness with no task but to keep going, making every way the right away and th...
I was free with every road as my home. No limitations and no commitments. But then summer passed and winter came and I fell short for safety. I fell for its spell, slowly humming me to sleep, because I was tired and small, too weak to take or handle ...
You must make love to him like his touch is your salvation.
... and I realise the only way to tell the others is through the way my voice can take these broken words and turn it into music. Turn it into poetry. And I sing to make myself come alive, but also for you, because I’d like this to mean something. ...
No story is worth telling without the twists and turns. Make them count instead.
Well, at least this is what I told myself every day as I fell asleep with the fire still burning and the moon shining high up in the sky and my head spinning comforting from two bottles of wine, and I smiled with tears in my eyes because it was beaut...
This world can be quite wonderful once you let yourself be a part of it. It’s on your side, you know?
Am I making something worth while? I’m not sure. I write and I sing and I hear words from time to time about my life and choices making ways, into other lives, other hearts, but am I making something worth while? I’m not sure. There was a boy las...
There were days when I still put on make up in case you’d come back, but I wear the same clothes and shower in the rain and eat when I can and sleep when I can, which is rare and not often, so if you’d see me now on these streets where I once ima...
I am running and singing and when it’s raining I’m the only one left on the open street, smiling with my eyes fixed on the sky because it’s cleaning me. I’m the one on the other side of the party, hearing laughter and the emptying of bottles ...
I’m learning persistence and the closing of doors, the way the seasons come and go as I keep walking on these roads, back and forth, to find myself in new time zones, new arms with new phrases and new goals. And it hurts to become, hurts to find ou...
It all takes time and lessons and places, but I’m learning to listen to my restless heart, telling me to “go, go, go!
I don’t want to be a critic of the world. I want to encourage it.
I want people to feel safe around me. Calm and at peace and I want to make people feel accepted. I want to express confidence on my own path, and spread confidence to other people on theirs.
What is this thing? trading passions for a tiny bit of acceptance.
I don’t need anyone else to distract me from myself anymore, like I always thought I would.
Don’t try to present your art by making other people read or hear or see or touch it; make them feel it. Wear your art like your heart on your sleeve and keep it alive by making people feel a little better. Feel a little lighter. Create art in orde...
