This painting isn't about abortion. It's a sort of self portrait, actually. Before I was born, my mom had two miscarriages. As I was growing up, my mom used to tell me how she wished I was the child she had miscarried. I carry that with me.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Self Portrait: Sleep Forever Little Baby
This painting isn't about abortion. It's a sort of self portrait, actually. Before I was born, my mom had two miscarriages. As I was growing up, my mom used to tell me how she wished I was the child she had miscarried. I carry that with me.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Free.
When I swallow you up, I feel sunshine inside of me. In the pit of my tummy: warm, comforting, glowing, oozing sunshine.
Writhing in happiness, I hold this feeling in the palm of my hands, in the center of my chest- clutching it like my salvaged identity.
You bathe me in feel-good moments...Drip love down my body. I taste every drop like this is my first and last. You soak up all of me there is to love and hydrate me with delicious acceptance. Put up a mirror in front of me and teach me how to SEE.
Calm pulsates from the edges of my world and curls up around me. You've wrapped me up in this new kingdom, and I am gladly lost in you. Finally, I'm free.
Love Me Leave Me, Please
Love me, leave me please.
Hold me, love me, break me, want me.
Carve me into the image you want to see me as.
Break me, mold me.
Hunger for me, trick me, please me, caress me
Trick me.
Shoot a pretty glance
Buy me a perfect rose
Call me a ten
Shoot a pretty glance
Kill me.
You need to recognize your patterns, your cravings, your lust- your hunger
Crush me, love me, spoil me, hold me, calm me
Leave me.
Over and over again- leave me.
Come back, laugh it off
Shrug me off
Pause
Reflect
Forget.
That's me- Forget.
Be happy, oblivious, ignorant.
None the wiser are you.
Manipulate you, tease you, trick you, carve you, mold you, love you, shackle you, feed you, ignore you.
Love you.
Break you, exhaust you, treat you, teach you.
That's me loving you.
Alone, you and I are together.
Question happiness, loneliness, wholeness, wholesomeness, and ability.
I am a maze, a labyrinth, a test- I am the ultimate. I am the basic. The lack of foundation. The loss of ground.
I am your home. Your wrecked and broken little home, drenched in guilt and pain and amusement. So much amusement. Happy little homewrecker, homemaker I will be.
You are my home. Mobile and always so far, you will be. Not much of a home at all, more like a vacation home. It's unfortunate I can never seem to get away from work.
-Tara
I lay in your arms, weak and strong and trembling with guilt and satisfaction.
Finally I am surrounded with my aloneness.
Peace.
You bring me peace and I can breathe.
I can breathe, I can cry, I can feel.
I can feel your heart and your shallow breath
Your shallow intentions.
You are human.
Oh, are you human and how GOOD it feels to be alone with this human, it's ungodly to say.
My toes curl, a smile creeps, my skin heats and I'm alive.
You bring me peace and I can breathe....but I can't breathe. I'm drowning in shallow tears. Mine, yours, and theirs.
Coughing up a story, I mumble incoherent explanations. Excuses. Watch me flail now, and attempt to give me a sympathetic smile.
I dare you.
Find a reason to love me,
I dare you.
Find a reason to stay.
I DARE you.
Find a reason not to run, not to avoid this mess, not to resent me for how I resent you. How I smother, crush, and repeat....
My patterns disgust me. So why don't they disgust you?
I'm human. But I'm that kind of human other humans see and see themselves in. And they run. I am you, in a nutshell. But I am raw and ugly in part, beautiful in others, and all in all far too much work.
I am a tedious chore.
Find a reason to love me, I dare you.
On second thought, I'll reneg on that offer. Please don't love me. I'll love you away.
Beat your soul and love and trust out with my rock like mistrust and doubt.
Destroy it and taunt it until its laying on the floor- heart in hand, shallow beat, begging for a pretty mercy-kill.
Delightful, I am.
I lay in your arms, weak and strong and no longer alone but most certainly
terrified
guilt ridden
vulnerable
hopeful
overly excited
hungry
anxious
and hyper aware
Waiting for you to make a mistake.
I'm a runner
so I dare you to find a reason to catch me.
-Tara
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