THUNDERS

It is time to write something beautiful again, my heart is bursting today, and it feels good to let it. I felt the red return to my cheeks, the warmth that runs through them, so close to my smile. It is thundering outside, and the noise is sort of terrifying in a way that makes me want to live, and I just started dancing all over the house, and I was spinning in the living room, and it felt so good to be spinning, but in a way that helped my world stop spinning for a moment. Daisy just started dancing with me, she is scared of thunder too. "I know you want to stay in bed, but it's light outside." We fall so much, I feel like I fall everyday these days, and I skin and bloody my knees, and it feels okay, there is a change taking place, and it is just beginning, and it is hard to catch my breathe right now, because I just got so excited for it.

my grandmother

she is beautiful. she is strong. she is safety. she glows. she is home.

she is always inside my heart

typical day

faceless

looking down

con's day of birth 27 years ago

It was chance meeting, but one of my favorite meetings. Conor had a full beard that day and he towered over me. The sun was shinning big and bright, and it was good to meet him. Conor is one of my favorites, and I am thankful for him. The world is a happier place with you in it... you are a rock. 

[The joy of being a photographer's friend]

Con.or

a man who sacrifices his body for my art

and in return will always be in my heart

water series

untitled dialogue

untitled narrative


Not to mention Conor let me make his body into a human photograph. 

The Process

1. one shaved chest
2. one layer of tough skin for cuts
3. one layer chrome spray paint
4. one heavy layer of liquid light 
5. wait until it dries (may take forever) 
6. project and expose image onto conor
7. put his body through developer, stop, and fixer. 
8. present to class
9. he is a gem

[ please note the process was self tested on yours truly...and we both have great skin ] 

a boy with the eyes

this boy named sam

There is this boy named Sam,

I see him everywhere.

One day he will ask for my number.

my anarchist friend

"I am an anarchist," he declared. He kept talking about his investment in non-fiction. He was going through a phase, and he felt things were better related to through real life experiences. "We have so much to share that has actually been felt and experienced." He was so loud when he spoke, and he kept talking as if he were the only one at the table, a table of listeners silently disagreeing. I think we only disagreed because he spoke with to much venom to not question his conviction. He kept insisting it made no sense to invest in a world that does not exist, and suddenly a wave of beautiful fictional metaphors filled my head, and I had to say it out loud, "I disagree." I wondered why I get riled up when someone seems to sincere for their own good, feelings becoming facts, there own fiction becoming non-fiction. Perhaps, I had already nodded my head to many times that day, nodding in my pursuit of feigned interest. We have to hear, listen, and then respond, but our little improve selves are out there dishing out spoonfuls of I Know Everything flavored ice cream. False, we do not not know everything,  we pretend we do, and the strength in our voice convinces our minds that is how we really feel about things. I do have one question, what would non-fiction do without fiction? Non-fiction would be fiction because there would be no need for non, and I feel satisfied being able to at least disprove his claim verbally, nonsensically. One thing is for certain though, I am excited to claim him, "Hey this is Mat, my anarchist friend." I like that idea for now.

girl with a rat

She was so proud of her rat,

just as she should be.

I have a friend who had a rat named Lucy,

she grew up to do great things.

Perhaps more of us should have have plastic rats,

(not for the fainthearted)

untitled

Contact Improvisation

We did not speak today, and I believe that created a melancholy in the room. It took me a moment to gather my thoughts into my body, and then releasing them to my toes, stretching out anything holding me back from letting my body move the way it would like. For a moment I was stubborn, letting a few others pass by my radius without allowing contact, but my mind was warming up to the idea. I wanted my body to stretch and find its self some more, a tensioned peace seeping through my limbs, I felt apprehensive in making contact with someone, my body still deciding if it actually wanted to make a connection today. I am not sure how long it would have taken if Nancy would not have made the first contact. I felt her presence near my own, and then we were moving together, allowing our weight to bear into one another, and yielding to each other as we moved. I believe I get nervous sometimes, in the transition of making contact, knowing somehow we will part in the end. I find this odd because once it happens, and we do part, I let go and the movement take us where it wants, to something else that interests us.  


What is contact improvisation? from kreativsport on Vimeo.

word vomit

She was so awkward, and her words were getting twisted in her mouth. she used to be so good at flirting, now she felt like that seagull who foolishly ate a piece of bubblegum and only to realize it's impending death if it did not spit it out soon. The seagull just looked silly in its squawking fit of shock.

in a similar situation...


Brandon: Jordan, have you hugged Aaron before? He gives amazing hugs!
What Jordan meant to say: Yeah, I could imagine that!
What Jordan actually said: Yeah, I have totally imagined that!!

(The entire table falls silent, and Jo blushes)

Brandon: Aaron I really like your sweater.
What Jordan meant to say: Yeah, I have been meaning to tell you that all night as well.
What Jordan actually said: Yeah, I have been thinking about it all night!

(Once again, the table falls silent unable to shake this comment off as quickly as the last one. Jo blushes an even deeper red, and sheepishly drinks from her hot cocoa mug, only to find people still starring at her when she raises her head. Jo (still blushing) tries to laugh and someone points out her whipped cream mustache she was unaware of due to her diverted attention to her own embarrassment).

Jordan could only hope her word vomit might be mistaken for genuine sincerity with a dash of cute.
(Aaron later asks Jordan on a date)

Fin (the end).

oh, and the date was great!


In addition... 

I was discussing this particular incident with said boy, and remembered his little humorous addition to the story, which is as follows...

We were starved, and cold cereal made sense, so we all met at Aaron's to devour bowls of peanut butter crunch and celebrate our friend's Album Release (Fictionist- Invisible Hand). We stayed up talking about not so important things, at least nothing important enough for me to remember, and was getting to that time for me to make my way from Provo to Salt Lake (an hour commute). Aaron got my number insisting, "I can text you while you drive so you will stay awake." It was sort of sweet, but I never received a text, and I remember thinking, "he never texted me" as I feel asleep in my very own bed.

What really happened...

Aaron, who just so happened to have two people who go by the name of Jordan in his phone, began texted the this "other" Jordan.

Aaron had said something along the lines of: So, I really just wanted to get your number so I could ask you on out sometime.

Real Jordan: did not respond because she never got the text message

"Other" Jordan: responded hours later when the sun was actually awake and said something in confusion within the grounds of keeping Aaron thinking it was the real Jordan.

Aaron then proceeded to respond with something witty and cute to make Jordan laugh... BUT

"Other" Jordan: did not respond for a few hours once again

Aaron responded to Jordan half halfheartedly because the conversation left him feeling Jordan was disinterested and not sure what to say...THEN SUDDENLY, Aaron realizes this may not be the girl Jordan he had cold cereal with while keeping her toes warm. So he asked "Other" Jordan if this was in fact the girl, Jordan with whom he had cold cereal with while keeping her toes warm?

"Other" Jordan: Affirmed it was indeed, NOT, the Jordan he had eaten cold cereal with while keeping her toes warm. It was his former roommate, Jordan, who was falling for Aaron in his witty banter through phone texts, making him laugh and feel happy inside.

Aaron upon discovering this was NOT the right Jordan: So, how did I do at least?

"Other" Jordan: I would date you.

Aaron: After breathing a sigh of relief then proceeded to text the right Jordan and told her he was sorry for not texting her last night, making sure she made it to her very own bed in safety, but had a very funny story to tell her.

Real Jordan: laughed as Aaron told her this story, it made her happy from her head to her toes!

a boy and his dog

one day there was this boy and his dog

the boy's fingers played from their memory

the boy's dog and I listened to them

the boy's heart told them what to say
and they had a lot to get out of his chest