“I opened the door, and there he stood in a puddle of rainwater. He said terrible things were holding him down. Said he felt like he was carrying an invisible bomb as big as the world on his back.”

An old, complex acquaintance…
Meets her new face, with the enthusiasm of a child…

“The dichotomy of opulent comforts inside craving a bohemian lifestyle vs. downfall of an existence spent entirely within the clutches of stability.”

“To love him completely, was to accept that one day he would exit life just as tragically as he had entered. Naked, alone…and plagued by a lifetime of grief, which had escaped limitations long ago. “

Everything is so quiet now…
You’ve left the door wide open.
I can’t yet glimpse the integrity left behind…
I only find pieces of all that is broken.

Feeling your presence carry over from when we were children…
Arrive to exist, my bruised account- recollections surrounded by red.
Divided from the protection of my sibling, deceased…
I am absolutely devastated that you no longer physically exist.

How did it come to this?
Where did the time take you?
Why couldn’t I save you?
And, how do I move forward since you are gone?

Silence has remained a ceaseless companion throughout my life…
Keeping me sedated for as long as I can recall.
But, now these recurring screams arrive, violently pulling apart my calm…
If only because, there is so much yet to be spoken aloud.

You are still breathing in my heart…
And, although I am not ready to take leave just yet…
I cannot stay in this place of despair much longer either…
Because, it overwhelms me to contemplate everything I should have enacted in hindsight.

“I know, I will not drown in this forever…
I know, I will not mourn your loss forever…
However, one thing I will forever do, I know…
Is love you dearly, for as long as I am alive.”

She rages silently…

“…I still don’t know if she was once a real person, or if she is just a deep part of me branching off from my otherwise ‘uneventful normality’- but, I have a guardian named Raserei. From the state that she consistently appears to me- if she once existed in human form, then it would most certainly have been a violent circumstance which brought about her demise. Also, she has only one working eye. ”

“So, she is a ghost? I did not think ghosts had eyes.”

“One eye…she only has one. I tend to think, she is more of a spiritual macabre being. Rather, a defense for things not seen in the physical realm. I mean, she fits the profile of guardian, and that is how I prefer to acknowledge her presence- but she has also shown herself impartial to the subject of death, as if she never knew what it was like to have lived. Remaining ever still, she shows no sign of comprehension whenever I speak of either subject. I have asked her more than once to declare her intentions- as it is uncomfortable not knowing why she reveals herself to me specifically. She never has an answer. She always just stares devoid of attachment to the question. You know…I am not even really sure if she is visible to others. This, I think, is what makes the occurrence of seeing her so damn uncomfortable.”

[LONG PAUSE]

“Sorry, I am quiet. I just don’t know what to say in response to any of this.”

“That’s okay. If I were on the receiving end of this conversation, I don’t think I’d know what to say about any of it either.”

I’m down to nothing since I walked in here…
I close my eyes, and feel for you.
All these things have brought me to my knees…
I can’t forget, I reach for you.

I’ve been collaging since early childhood. My initial infatuation began with magazines. However, eventually this lead to having very little regard for my mother’s art books…

Holy shit! I got in so much trouble the day she discovered that I had not only gutted the hell out of her wonderful resource books…I even had the nerve to put them back on the shelf without saying a word!
Oops :o

These days, my mom continues to supply me with books and magazines for the sheer purpose of tearing out my hearts desire. And, although she has never again questioned my vigor towards this medium of expression- I do believe, she is probably just as equally happy that I have taken my preoccupations into the digital realm for further scrutiny…

The central figures of this intimate series were lifted from a photograph by Craig Cowling aka: Naughty James- An extremely talented snapper based out of the UK.

http://www.naughtyjames.com

I’ve been posting new pieces throughout the journal today…
Randomly dispersed- so you’ll have to look back through the archives to get the latest.

Have fun this evening.