Confetti...

is for birthdays.

Happy Birthday!

York

Please answer the group of questions listed below.
1. Briefly, describe your training or background in the visual arts.
2. Briefly, describe other courses and/or activities you have been involved in that are related to the arts.
3. Briefly, describe your reaction to an art exhibition you have seen in the last year.
4. Please tell us about a book, film, a piece of music, play or visae you have experienced within the last year that has had an impact on your feelings about art.
5. How do you envision your future in the art field?

time is...

running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running

running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out runnint out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out running out of time.

gleam

what is this gleam in your eye?

your wants, your desires,

who are you anymore?

what is this gleam in your eye?

what does it stand for?

who does it stand for?

make up your mind.

only one more sleep...

it doesn't feel much like christmas.

let the witch hunt begin!

well technically its not witches i'm after/i am starting my hunt this morning/i simply must find it/i'll see if you have it/hopefully you dont/but if you do/i must hunt again and again and again/until i find something new/to hunt.

hunt.

hunt.

i'll be sneaky/and swift/like a fox is so overrated/but i'll hunt/like they hunt/for witches.

at 7:30 am///

this morning i had a dream.

in this dream, not only was tokio hotel going to play a set in my highschool cafeteria, but bill kaulitz asked me personally to help him set up the stage. Then, as i was standing front row pressed against the wooden stage, he found out that the rest of the band was stuck in the snowstorm so he was left to play his set alone. He only played one song before i found myself on the stage with him looking down upon my little friends.

i'm pretty sure i made this up.

but i'm pretty sure it was fun.

winter blues

slip me a turtleneck
i'll be sure to choke on it.

cheated out of a heart

somehow i still feel cheated
somehow i'm left wanting more
somehow i know it'll never come.
something that will never come.
always wanting
more.

more,


more.

candy cane kisses

they're in the mail cause i can't give them to you in person.

oh how much i need you

so why won't you let me buy tickets?

your smile

its not enough anymore.

a shower.

wet.

wet.

wet.

that's what i'll be.

the knob

it slips

from my fingers,

all pruny.

it slips.

slips.

my skin

burns: raw

from the heat.

red.

red.

red

are my feet.

claws

drag

dig

drag

leaving tracks

across my

back

shoulders

and neck.

steam.

hits.

hits.

til it drips.

drips.

dew

on the walls.

dots

of cold

slide

and fall.

fall

to my feet.

tap

the drain

collecting

the week's worth

of dirt

from my skin.

dirt.

dirt.

puddles

growing.

drowning.

swallowing me

whole.

whole.

mykul hobden

this is his self-portrait in acrylics. he is amazing.

the girl on the wall.

photograph by aaron caven

knowledge is an abstract term

knowledge is an abstract term.
there is no such thing as
knowing.
we can never know anything
but i know i love you.

ART SHOW ART SHOW ART SHOW!

i know these pictures are not related, but i like what he's wearing.

beautiful (L)

death to a cell phone

i wish you'd go away. or perhaps you'd never been born.
stupid phone.

So much time...

"so much time with so little to do. Wait, scratch that, reverse it."

coincidence of events

pinpoint

the answer,

you'll never know how.

some things

at random

and out of control,

escape my fingers.

but i'll just smile.

black and blue woman

A body,
swathed in flannels,
hoists itself
upon rickety bones.
Palms flexed
and forearms shaking
from the weight.
Blue and purple
veins
protrude
from crumpled
tissue-paper
skin. Groans.
Creaking bones.
The body trembles
and twists
and breaks
its tensed form.
Rump first,
legs swing second,
loosening,
and toes,
toes searching
and digging
for a gap in the sheets,
a cave, a fissure
to slide into.
Arthritic hands,
with knuckles
swollen,
and flesh
shrunk,
grope forwards
in the blackened dark,
closing tightly
on the corners
of plump fabric,
until it almost drowns
the body,
up to the neck.
The head falls.
Eyelashes dance
until they finally,
slowly,
surely,
run out of energy.

not

i thought i was supposed to be happy.

no more pretense

stop pretending,

there's no more use.

i see right through

the smile,

the laugh.

don't try to deny

that you're letting go

someway

somehow

you're letting go

of me.

i'll be

lost

without you

sad

without you

but maybe my heart

needs the break.

maybe its me

but the tears

are real

the hurt

is real.

but what is real?

instead i pretend.

"we're making out inside crashed cars"

We're making out inside crashed cars
We're sleeping through all our memories
I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive
(now I only waste it dreaming of you)

bad, ass.

i think so.

please my dear, just one more chance...

i'd give anything, everything

you're my everything, anything.

forgive all my faults, and i'll do the same.

i'm trying, i swear,

but i know i could do better.

but i can't,

not now,

i'm sorry.