isolation diaries
Another painting My knuckles have gone white from holding on to the rails, My eyes so tightly shut I see stars in the dark, My stomach has twisted and reached over to tickle itself, I'm ready for the fall, ready for the drop in the rollercoaster where my hands will fly up and I'll scream… Continue reading Carnival Games
Another badly painted painting depicting the egg in glass I am two different people in English and in Spanish A distorted two way mirror Distorted glass cup The curandero down the road defined me in Spanish He rubbed the holy water dipped egg all over Even at eight years old they must have seen what… Continue reading The Curandero and the egg
my mother said Si te barro los pies no te vas a casar o encontrar amor, recuerda de levántarlos If I broom your feet you won't get married or find love, remember to lift them just one of many superstitions my mother inherited from her mother I've done almost everything right, followed the rules, read… Continue reading the curse of the broom
