I want to live a whole life. Instead of pieces of it all over the place like a player in a sick scavenger hunt. How can so much stifling restraint and exorbitant excess exist in the same person?
I need to be whole for me, my work, my life’s work, my passion, my art, my relationships and future children.
I forget where I’ve hidden the pieces during the times they can’t be seen. The parts that can only be unearthed in certain company.
I want to dig up all the pieces and glue them back together, beauty and ugly and move on. Just move on in one piece with one whole heart and mind.
Kat
- Kat Steiner
- Drums, Pa, United States
- My heart is on my sleeve and my soul is on paper. Please be kind to those around you, we are all glass.
The richness of sybolism
Telling my story with no words
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
The Map
We are all trying our best to read this map, with no key.
To keep from leaving too many pieces of ourselves as breadcrumbs, eaten alive before we find our way back.
Don’t fool yourself, we all fumble at best. Some crawling,others walking tall still blind.
Day falls into night, sun a comfort and stars…oh, the stars, a lovely visceral reminder of infinity.
Some of us learn the lay of the land too late, walking in the valley no light on our face. Others remain on the path set before them, face to the sun.
To keep from leaving too many pieces of ourselves as breadcrumbs, eaten alive before we find our way back.
Don’t fool yourself, we all fumble at best. Some crawling,others walking tall still blind.
Day falls into night, sun a comfort and stars…oh, the stars, a lovely visceral reminder of infinity.
Some of us learn the lay of the land too late, walking in the valley no light on our face. Others remain on the path set before them, face to the sun.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Had I Known
Had i known it would be the last time, I would have memorized every inch...paid more attention.
I would have run my hand over the soft red velvet on the creaky dining room chairs one more time and stood between the bear and deer as I did when I was held as an infant. The twist of the stairs, how I had to duck to make it down, sitting at the bottom with plates of pie talking with the other kids was priceless.
I will never forget you, even though you may me. The days with you burned into my soul forever. Ice cream in the freezer, tomato sandwiches and pastel plastic cups above the sink. Dinners around the table surrounded by loud and lovely family and the best coleslaw you ever tasted. You sat last and were the first to tell us we never ate enough.
Even the bathroom; the fish wallpaper, your knee highs drying on the bar, the sink that usually had no water, wondering what gave witch hazel it's name and finding out the hard way that Fixodent was NOT bubble gum in a tube makes me long for those days. The chenille blanket in the spare room and the picture of all your kids everywhere, family was your heart and soul.
Thank you for being the patient angel in grandma clothing that taught me to love unconditionally and for tickling my back while we watched TV just because you knew I loved that. Had I known it would be the last time I would have smelled more, looked harder and memorized like nothing else.
I would have run my hand over the soft red velvet on the creaky dining room chairs one more time and stood between the bear and deer as I did when I was held as an infant. The twist of the stairs, how I had to duck to make it down, sitting at the bottom with plates of pie talking with the other kids was priceless.
I will never forget you, even though you may me. The days with you burned into my soul forever. Ice cream in the freezer, tomato sandwiches and pastel plastic cups above the sink. Dinners around the table surrounded by loud and lovely family and the best coleslaw you ever tasted. You sat last and were the first to tell us we never ate enough.
Even the bathroom; the fish wallpaper, your knee highs drying on the bar, the sink that usually had no water, wondering what gave witch hazel it's name and finding out the hard way that Fixodent was NOT bubble gum in a tube makes me long for those days. The chenille blanket in the spare room and the picture of all your kids everywhere, family was your heart and soul.
Thank you for being the patient angel in grandma clothing that taught me to love unconditionally and for tickling my back while we watched TV just because you knew I loved that. Had I known it would be the last time I would have smelled more, looked harder and memorized like nothing else.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Little Scuttlebutts
My sister in law stayed with Chris and I for a few days seemingly to care for him after knee surgery so I could go back to work. As it turned out she took care of me in a way I had no idea I needed.
Kimberly being at the house has allowed me to exhale, let go, checkout. I'm being mothered and finding how healing it is to let someone take care of me, to tuck me in with a kiss, to make meals for me and say it is ok to cry and lay in bed at 4pm. How surprisingly easy it is and how much I needed it, wow did I need it.
There is a situation in my life that's akin to being a rock climber who fell a great distance and got wedged in a small tight crack. At first being stuck suddenly is startling, then scary, then hurts like hell. Your struggle to get out only results in settling further into the crack. Unable to move either way the weight around you starts to feel secure and safe. You find comfort and solace in this close position that takes all the responsibility from you.
You know staying there will result in death but the contact, the tactile stimulation of the great surface area of nerves is reassuring and impossible not to want.
Without notice, when you are no longer fighting, almost learning to love the captivity, you feel the pain of being taken out by a force not your own. Now, the ache of what broke while you were stuck starts to produce agony once your free from it. How bittersweet.
Kimberly being at the house has allowed me to exhale, let go, checkout. I'm being mothered and finding how healing it is to let someone take care of me, to tuck me in with a kiss, to make meals for me and say it is ok to cry and lay in bed at 4pm. How surprisingly easy it is and how much I needed it, wow did I need it.
There is a situation in my life that's akin to being a rock climber who fell a great distance and got wedged in a small tight crack. At first being stuck suddenly is startling, then scary, then hurts like hell. Your struggle to get out only results in settling further into the crack. Unable to move either way the weight around you starts to feel secure and safe. You find comfort and solace in this close position that takes all the responsibility from you.
You know staying there will result in death but the contact, the tactile stimulation of the great surface area of nerves is reassuring and impossible not to want.
Without notice, when you are no longer fighting, almost learning to love the captivity, you feel the pain of being taken out by a force not your own. Now, the ache of what broke while you were stuck starts to produce agony once your free from it. How bittersweet.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Book time punks!
I am finally, thanks to Marie, my lovely soul mates, prayers and Brad, putting my book together. I don't have any idea what i am doing but i don't care. it will come to me, this is a part of me, its who i am. i feel like i have been a runner with my feet in those starting braces for years waiting for the gunshot to go off so i could start running. well, i had the gun in my own hand the whole time but I'm stubborn and thick headed i didnt realize it so its just my way.
i have 44 pages of material and it is mostly edited. however, i have about 200 other pieces that could go in but they are very rough and need sorting and editing so i will start on that next. this is by far the most work beside the actual writing over the last 4 years that i have done on this. i refuse to let my life keep flying by me.
all things that happen to me make me this person at this moment and i am nothing less than eternally grateful for the opportunity of experiences.
i have 44 pages of material and it is mostly edited. however, i have about 200 other pieces that could go in but they are very rough and need sorting and editing so i will start on that next. this is by far the most work beside the actual writing over the last 4 years that i have done on this. i refuse to let my life keep flying by me.
all things that happen to me make me this person at this moment and i am nothing less than eternally grateful for the opportunity of experiences.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)