Designated Doodler

I haven't written in this blog in a long time. So long, in fact, that I'm not quite sure where to start. This post, for whatever reason, feels pivotal. Maybe that's because my life has drastically changed, maybe this is the start of a new beginning or the end of a very long chapter. Whatever it is, I find myself here, in this familiar space, staring at the same screen I stared at in 2008 when I was just starting college. The same screen I came to in order to escape, in order to muse about life, wax on about hardships, and try my hand at poetry & art. Here is some of my recent artwork...

Today I went to church with my Dad. It was a great service and I learned things about David's life that I didn't know before. It was a special service and all of the kids were involved. The energy in that room was wonderful and the experience made me think about something one of my coworkers said one day at work. He said that he didn't believe people had souls. Which to date, is the saddest thing I've ever heard anyone say. I realize that it's his opinion and I respect that. But I still find it depressing that there are people who think this. In my life I have seen miracles and have "felt" my soul many times. My co worker asked me what it "felt" like and it was hard to give an answer. It feels like being plugged into an outlet. Like there is this beautiful and overwhelming energy that engulfs you. It is the most joyful and electrifying experience. It's like you're a cell phone and you don't realize it but you're battery ...

My tongue tickles It tingles and squirms Behind my sugar loving teeth That were bathed in coffee Just this morning I stare at the ceiling Through eyes that long for glasses There is no talking or moving So my brain runs in circles out of boredom And tries not to think about my bladder Which, like my mouth is small And always seeks attention At the wrong time I'm not nervous But my heart thinks I am Since the numbing shot Speeds it up I cross my feet And think about Not thinking about Having to pee Glimmering metal objects Disappear into my mouth And make torturous sounds Like a thousand tiny race cars At a tiny little Nascar Running lap after lap Inside my enamel Down to my Dentin Turning a solid piece of me Into a fine dust That smells Indescribable It's not my fault that I have soft teeth I think As I lie back on my soft curls And rub a circle with my thumb On the silk skin o...