desperado

 Painting she cannot finish because she has lost the nerve

“Judge is a criminal and judgment is a crime,” cries Like Totally. “I am a desperado, pathetic evaluator of what is good in painting or even worth what is better. Acceptance is the courage but I have lost the nerve!”
But there is “good” in painting
“Good” is alive

who longs

Like Totally mislaid amid disordered thoughts

Observes the cloud swaddling them like babies

All voices outside the cradle get distorted

Like Totally in desperate attempt to reestablish  

Meaning checks the Webster

But put together words refuse to check.

Like Totally commits to total madness like

Someone with disordered thoughts who longs

For answers

a gloomy hole

Monks who abandon world

to pray for world’s salvation

at least are not alone.

Why practice art that turns me in a loner?

I practice art because I am a loner.

Is artist’s studio a gloomy hole?

It is a gloomy hole where someone

who feels alone escapes to feel connected.

a follower, a leader, and a hermit

New season is approaching to tap into her longing for new style. Like Totally’s convinced that being a forerunner of fashion reflects a leader in her. To strengthen this appeal she always chooses the latest, sharpest fashion. So, what’s going wrong today that, as she fastens her car key to the handle of new tote and zips new iPhone in the tiny purse, compels her wonder,  “…am I a follower, instead?” 
“Of cause you are, a fool, a follower of style!” The answer comes, “to be a human you are a follower, a leader, and a hermit. The former is most visible in you, the latter is as good as dead, the mutant in the mid who thinks herself a lead instead is being lead by popular demand!”

bathroom tiles continued

Her gaze is fixed on bathroom tiles
each one of them a clear formulation 
of blank slate
tabula rasa
even a single one is plenty but they are -how many?- 
one, two…
but maybe it is better to look inside each frame?

Anxiety, her shadow, is her rival
bypassing her on treks of thoughts
it teases: too many on the bathroom wall for you
to study each in depth
life is too short for you
and one of them – which one, by the way?-
is clearly your death…

bathroom tiles

She’s hardly made it to bed tonight, so tired she is. Paint, paint, paint all day, and then bike. Why torture like that? But then, when she steps into the bathroom, she is suddenly puzzled at how few ceramic tiles on the wall there are: seven across! Yet, when she lays on her back in the bathtub the spread of tiles in front of her eyes seems infinite…. "So obviously limited and so indisputably infinite," Like Totally marvels, "like life itself!

to be invert

...Like Totally who wonders how to say an image and paint a word

                       who struggles now to save an image as jpeg in word

                       who knows what it takes for image to be invert 

bike ride

Her shoulder blades parch dryer than the wings of dragonflies.
Cicadas’ drumsticks heap long dunes of sound.
Shade excavates deep tunnels impermeable to human sight.
Time suspends the pace.
Like Totally's bike is stuck in Einstein's loaf.
She daydreams her nightmares.
Monster Wasp aims her sting at Like Totally’s exposed finger.
Gargantuan Cicada attacks Small Sparrow but cannot swallow it.
Small Sparrow catches Gargantuan Cicada but his flight becomes impaired.
Thick Patch of Grass invades Like Totally’s barren garden.

Like Totally claims dreamland to herself but no-one is there to dispute it. 

the offering

Like Totally rides bike within respected zip code zones only

and doesn’t have to check municipal books to find her way

sun sticks to her enduring shoulders and taking refuge in the alleys 
gives her excuse to peek in what appears to be a well-lived life

one-room house is a charming toy for connoisseurs 
and a tribute to linden trees reeking of self-content potency

appropriate outdoor furniture adorns the mowed loan

"To flee insanity for all, the chosen ones must practice their life style,"

Like Totally concedes and spins her thoughts 
that don’t numb her feelings but open them

into the life’s embrace, “ to keep their windows clean to open them 

into their gardens, and turn their smiling faces to greet the children 
with the sacred offering of cup of tea…” 

with surge of energy she spins her pedals 
through stage-sets of the play whose actors are nowhere to see

 

   

her life is a paradox part three

The muse who feels like totally amused now interrupts his laughter and sighs. He says, “ You know, it is possible to say that you who may be definitely you-who-exists may be that part of you who asks these questions, but don’t take me wrong: to live in full you must not fool yourself with answers.” He sighs again, “And questions.”