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We The People, July 2019
My response to whether I should amend or abolish the US Constitution, if I had the power...
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some of my favorite paintings by Georgia
Ladder to the Moon,1958 ; Datura and Pedernal, 1940; Jimson Weed, 1936
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“Risk” by Anaïs Nin, flowers shot by me in Montreal last winter (2019)
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are we dreaming? no. this is real. doesn’t it look like a collage?
Houseboats clustered on Lake Oroville in Calif., in 2015. The lake shrank during a multiyear drought in the state that ended in 2019.
Credit: Ruth Fremson/The New York Times
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love is everywhere (continued) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bv900iqlY88/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1i38ms7j3q5gl
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i turn to words to acknowledge my existence ... today i turn to Anais Nin
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“People think our work is monumental because it's art, but human beings do much bigger things...” Jean-Claude & Christo
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“YOUR NARCISSISM FOR SALE” Yayoi Kusama (1966-present) (at Rockaways) https://www.instagram.com/p/BnMwikFFl3_/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1r9109keys7tp
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LAST DAYS OF AUGUST (summer)
your lash- laced almond eyes flutter open and I feel my heart beat blood to my cheeks as I watch you awaken, my love. this never gets old, this moment of unawareness and newness and another day. when we walk we see Morning Glories bloom by the water and I especially love Morning Glories because not everyone sees their beauty, their greatness. we too bloom unnoticed by some. (August 2018, NYC)
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me, in love (July 2018, New York)
#love#flowers#romance#rococo#modernrococo#neorococo#miamore#moncouer#sunshine#summer#me#him#sweetphee
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THANK YOU (me)
hello green eyes that look around for more, for the details that inspire, the truth that sets her free.
thank you kind heart, that recognizes reality as circumstantial, as the days an opportunity, as she enjoys the rhythms of your beat, this existence.
grateful for this brain that turns pain into ink that later reminds me of the flow of our universe and the words that seep into the page turned again into a lesson of growth, of mine.
to you, her, me, I am... set free by my mind, again, a day turned. so, thank you.
(June 2018, NYC)
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i am here now writing this (I, Yours, Today)
I, holding the scales
I, blindfolded in optimism
I, like her, that came before me
uncatalogued, free from the tainted tones
I, Venus disguised in slacks,
sometimes, hers, sometimes, mine
I, Aphrodite in Greenpoint
I, yours, for now
in this extended moment
I believe in love, again.
(May 2018, NYC)
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a poem for me from then.... (April 2018, NYC)
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THE RAIN WAS HOT (in april) THIS MORNING
the tulips were yellow and red and budding and wet when i walked by them this morning.
when he passed me that label that said “I THINK ABOUT YOU ALWAYS” i thought to think of me and my heart and all the times i’ve been just that, before.
to be with him is to see parts of myself i’ve forgotten i loved.
(April 2018, New York City)
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sans l’obscurité
no darkness with you
besides twilight
and those moments before sunrise
that we savor so sweetly.
deep eyes for deeper living,
unspoken unnecessary, she asks anyway,
am I yours?
it’s too sunny to hear him clearly.
(March 2018, Brooklyn)
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romance lives.... (continued)
Brooklyn, NY, April 2018
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Self Portrait (Cunningham, 1906)
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