In my house

In my house
There are boys in bed together
Cat-curled and sex-escaped
Inevitable and small
In my house
There are notions of service
And flirtation with the right
He cries,
I never liked that
It's like vomiting: men's tears
Furtive and contageous
Please don't do that
In my house
In my house
My art is hiding.

Breather

I lurk
Steal smoky silk
Across the hallway,
Form a web of sorts
Teeming with my ilk.

And smoking is such a nasty habit,
Why do I court it?
I have courted folksy Korean monsters (an analogy).
I mean,
'I am free'
Seems all too final
I am a breather; wee birds, they're all so lovely
They're tall.

Wrought out of black
And blackouts
You should have never tried
Put a seatbelt on me
We could never finish a trilogy
Tellingly.

Mexico

I try not to think of you with her
Bright-named with burnished skin:
Your eyes bluer every day.
I tell myself it's only right that you
Don't mention me anymore
But then I remember August, Mexico
The plans I never told you
And resent you for not knowing.

Yet life goes on over here
I wear a crimson skirt and chain mail
That Frida would approve of
And speak of gin and weekends
Where I din't sleep.
You wander the lands
Promised lands promised to another
Don't worry, bear up, it will keep.

If I drew you, I loved you.

I know now that if you don't inspire me to produce art, and to write, so ecstatic am I, that it's not love. It's not worth my time. If I drew you, I loved you.

Zine Plotting

I think I want to create a zine for Zinefest 2011. I don't know how to make the pages align but surely a person who is learning to design newspapers can make such a thing possible.

An autobiographical collaction of illustration and poetry. Mainly re-purposed from diaries and moleskins, outlining the life of a 20 something girl with a head full of flies and Korean folk art.

Christmas giving

We, perfectly copy. Watercolour and pen. 2010

Bella. Watercolour and pen. 2010