Writer, Artist, Model

Archive for November, 2014

The Lost Kerouac Letter

This story about a lost letter from Neal Cassady to Jack Kerouac inspired me greatly today, was too good not to share here: The Lost Kerouac Letter:

“There are no unexplored paths in my mind and few that are not entangled in the weave of my misery mists. It is but gentle fog thru which I navigate and make friendly by constant intimate communion.” – Neal Cassady

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A Dream

Forgive this, forgive this truth in epic fear, transition in truth in sun dance peace. Where are you now sweet twisted truth. I am bitter in sadness. All I want is truth just give me some, give me this one piece of bread, our daily bread, where are you my jesus my savior or have you lost me in all this. I want and that is a word that deceives me, the difference between the want and the need. Where are you? Deception. Where are you? dead mass of wonder. Is this reality when all you can do is sin, meet where sin is not, and I can’t deny you. I say “I am not alone, we are not alone, we are not one in this strange madness” where has it all gone when we meet this sad state. You mistreat me with words and I am sainted in martyrdom. I hang my truth and madness on a cross and nail it to my heart. I see you there in the deep crimson sadness, and you drip truth, you drip it like humidity hanging on a window pane. I hear the drops tapping into my sorrow, and there is danger in this, there is danger in your truth because I don’t live there, I live inside a mind that is fraught with madness and you can’t live there. Please pull me out, bring your hand through the darkness and lead me out, or let me drag you with me. I want truth, ancient truth, un-explainable truth of which there can not be. Where have you gone? Please answer me through the darkness, out stretch the pain, see through it. Use your night eyes to bring me past this, please use your gray to see me past this black, for in darkness those are the only shades I see. Use your shades to bring me out into the dawn. I want dawn… but there in lies the trouble between dark and light, and the shades only blind me, so blind me now and let me never wake from this long and serene dream. For if I dream let it be where dreamers lie,and liars only know the truth.


Musings

All I want is a life filled with Art and Passion, it’s my job to create it, and your job to either watch or destroy, either of which won’t stop me now.


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The Photography of Peter Kemp

Loving the work of Peter Kemp today. I always enjoy taking photos that tell a story, I think a good image should say more than just “look at this beautiful person” it should capture your imagination. Would love to work him someday. In the meantime check out his work here: http://www.peterkemp.nl/gallery/

Peter Kemp


Forget Me Not

Now for sale on Etsy: https://www.etsy.com/listing/157756793/forget-me-not-acrylic-graffiti-style?

Forget Me Not by Cherry Martini

“Forget Me Not” Fashion meets graffiti art. Beautiful and haunting portrait of a woman in purple and blue, with vibrant flowers. This is for archival signed and numbered prints, 12″x12″ in size. Purchase at MsCherryMartini


The Aches

Some nights I try and recall the past. A past I have done my very best to bury deep. I have wanted so many times to encase it in concrete, to sink my past into an ocean. The only ocean I find lately is the ocean of my conscience. This abysmal empty vastness I stare at everyday, I look down deep into it and wish it had a name like “heart”, a name like “soul”, but I can’t find it. I bury it with dusk brown soil and hope the aches of it subside.  

I find silent days lately, they are filled with voices that tell me to push on. They say, “beauty will come” but I still see grey. When will the grey subside?

Perhaps I am old already. I have come to the great divide in which only talking to four blanket walls will cover me. Only those four white walls will give me peace again.

They call it institutionalized, and it seems to come and go like a wilted breeze on hot evenings. The evenings I can smell the cool air a breast on the wind, I can see it sauntering in with no real business being here. I suppose thats how my summers have always begun. Akwardly. With this mix of hot and cold, awaiting the madness of warm nights to begin again, like a numbing salve to take the winter aches away.


New Fall Photos from Spy Glass Photography

Cherry Martini - seriesMid century Modern Cherry Martini