drawings of kids in yellow t-shirts

sorry

2011-01-16T12:42:00.000-08:00

I really only use tumblr now for all my drawings
http://ariellemariawinchester.tumblr.com/

how easily you bruise

2010-04-18T06:53:00.000-07:00

the only thing you can do is everything you're capable of

thoughts written on the back of a bus ticket

2010-04-16T09:42:00.001-07:00

I can see myself in your eyes, like looking at an old photograph of someone taken before you met. Keep trying. It's a circle out of the realm of physical proof aiming to kill itself. You are such an unusual shade of green. I don't owe you anything but my entire existence - I'll gloss over it. I can't hear a word you're saying.

healthy life advice

2010-01-29T08:24:00.000-08:00

good fun

2010-01-28T13:40:00.000-08:00

this is everything I wish I could say, but can't

2010-01-22T15:49:00.000-08:00

(Sometimes I write simple things down and then take them apart and put them in unusual places. I don't really know why I am posting this here. I guess I just need to get it out and I'm sure it will never be read by the person it is about).

I wish it weren't true.

Try to let the cars hit me,

I was calling someone else by your name.

You are such a contrast, but maybe

that's all we really are: contrast

falling apart at my fingertips.

Wait.

No one will be left.

We're not all the same, but so many of us are

dishonest,

all a apart of this greater falling

apart

fingertips falling

apart

I want to destroy something:

everything under my skin, orange street lamp.

I'll deny it now and

lower my lids if you ask me to.

Let's talk about our illnesses

only theoretically, you say.

It can kill both of us, but

just living is too important.

I've given so much up.

I've given up:

Its impossible to stop being.

Middle of the night, yelling nonsense

with tears in me at the right time, otherwise

we wouldn't know any better.

It feels visceral.

We're all humans. I guess.

The comparison is too great,

something unlabeled, but

constant, darling.

God Himself

unwinds complete control.

We wouldn't know any better.

Even though I know it is a gift that you do not want,

it would be so much greater than either of us.

The distant future turned on and off,

entirely incapable.

There are places you inhabit places

I cannot go,

thousands of worlds

and we will not talk about it.

You said that I am one.

I did not know at the time.

Just wait and see everything on your mind,

like I've never been sure before.

sent and received texts that are only acceptable if you are in art school and or clinically insane

2009-12-15T08:57:00.000-08:00

/ terrible collective poetry / performance art/ religious ritual out of body experience

*edited for punctuation and relevance, some portions of this written on a coffee filter

*Note: most of this conducted sitting under a blanket texting a very sleep deprived friend sitting beside me in a kitchen with some other (creeped out) people, us with terrified expressions and interpretive dance moves.

2:06 am, Monday December 14th

Him: "Hello. Rape me."

Me: "I am a new person now."

Him: "Then who are you?"

Me: "I am you."

Him: "Then me is you and

you is me.

Then who are we?"

Me: "Champions of the invisible."

Me, 2:13 am: "So pure.

Spirit tongues."

Him: "Bam. Our stripper. Babies hatched from an egg."

Me: "Pow. Same stripper. Manchild telepathy."

Me: “What is apathy anyway when we all feel so...

tree?”

Him: "Apathy is for the weak-minded.

I hold your soul in my hands, but what is strength when

no one has hands?"

Me: “When you hold the soul golden children where you rest.”

Him: “Where I rest is where you gave me my cherished life. You have to evolve your soul to be able to be free.”

Him: “Mufasa approves of your prayer flags.

But don't forget to raise it high, so that birds of heaven can see your prayer. For it will lead them to you.

I built the ladder. I dug a hole and escaped.

Do you understand? I did this myself.

The gods watched me. The golden children watched me.

The birds from.

Escape.

Our love is strong like tigers roaming the land.

You yourself will rise with the birds. I know that's what you want. I can see your mind in my sleep. My deep sleep. I climb out of mind to escape that sleep.

Heaven watched me. I am free. I own my own soul.

I am me. I am not you.

I am invisible to those who are not free who do not own their soul. I love you and you will live as long as the trees do.

If you leave, come back. If you die.

You died. I will send you my love through the ground. But you can do this.

Climb.”

Me: “Dear spirits, I left my soul in the tapestry of our predictions.

The milk is warm with

cramped controversies.”

Him: “Dear young child, your soul is kept in a glass chamber guarded by the energy of the fallen. Just drink the milk and walk the line. Your soul is yours when you prove to the spirits that your body is ready.”

Me: “The guards of our youth are picking ants from our lungs.

Oh walls of my ancestry,

how can we dissolve

red symmetries?”

Him: “Your lungs are safe as long as you destroy the base of desperation.

To dissolve red symmetries you must ask the birds from heaven.

Send your prayer flags. Send your faith to the sky. Let the demons of unnatural living die at the end.”

Me: “Diamonds of the spirit manifest broken melodies.

Capture the test of space.

We are cadavers.”

Him: “Broken voices haunt the empty spaces in which we live.

Where we dwell I sacrifice everything for this.

Separate death from life and give the rest to the gods.”

Me: “Dress among the beams of tired truths.”

Him: “Dance with those who see our invisible love.”

Me: “It is invisible; therefore, the clockwork cloaks a war.”

Him: “expense of the holy light that shines through the darkest of darkest places”

Me: “Like the genitals of forgotten nations.

Where is age?”

Him: “Where is age? Age is due to the unforgivable wasted time of generations past.

I'm sorry.

I do know know what ticks a clock and what tocks a human.”

Me: “A human cannot be seen through the skin of chameleons.”

Him: “My tongue is weak.

You are right, but what is change?”

Me: “Change is what falls when beauty sits at

the pagan misery.”

mistress

2009-11-21T06:36:00.000-08:00

This was an assignment for class involving a randomly selected word. My original idea for the word "mistress" was blatantly sexual. In an effort to be more subtle, I placed the meaning more in the realm of lover or secret lover. It fits my usual color scheme so I thought I'd share.

too much oatmeal

2009-10-10T12:30:00.000-07:00

Montserrat Rascals

2009-09-29T07:07:00.000-07:00

old stuff

2009-09-27T08:43:00.001-07:00

baby necklace

2009-06-08T14:31:00.001-07:00

good times in portsmouth

2009-06-04T09:16:00.000-07:00

Art school dilemma and I don't remember what this was about...

2009-04-24T18:03:00.000-07:00

... but it must have been funny at the time. Something about Watchmen I think.

I need advice from anywhere I can possibly get it:
Montserrat College of Art or New England School of Art and Design?

Also, I feel technically inept because I still don't know how to comment on my own posts... I can write them, but it never publishes them.

love and anxiety,
arielle

My brilliant commentary

2009-04-12T14:13:00.000-07:00

David Tennant

2009-04-05T12:45:00.000-07:00

Agenda books are pointless.

2009-02-06T12:52:00.000-08:00

Been busy for a while...

More from August

2009-01-22T14:56:00.000-08:00

Personally, I'm not partial to numbers

2009-01-19T08:25:00.000-08:00

I love my BFFL

2009-01-17T11:07:00.000-08:00

oldies but goodies

2009-01-15T13:32:00.001-08:00

Hodgepodge (because I like to slip that word in at any chance I get)

2009-01-12T15:49:00.000-08:00

I need to make an irrelevant confession: After a year of denying it, I've finally given in. I've done it. There's no turning back.... I've become addicted to Vampire Weekend.

2009-01-11T08:08:00.000-08:00

little known uses for cats

2009-01-10T15:21:00.000-08:00