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...

Up a winding road, past houses that’ve been alive far longer than I have, there’s a wrought iron mouth. I’ve been up this road several times but I still couldn’t tell you how to get there. Perhaps I should have paid more attention. Perhaps some part of me never wanted to know how to get there. It feels as if there should be wrought iron gates attached to this gaping mouth, but there aren’t, so the car glides inside. Beyond the gate-less mouth the road is smooth for only a few blinks of the eye and then it turns to dust. It narrows and winds and splits in different directions and no matter what vehicle you’re in, you can feel every dip and bump and rock beneath the tires. When I come, I come in the summer, when towering rhododendron bushes bursting with pink flowers tower above the SUV. The trees and bushes and flowers may die each year, but at least they have the privilege of springing back to life.  We come to another fork in the road. To the right is the future that I vehe...

Do you hear that? The whimpering breath of a dying dream It's more of a wheeze than a scream It's cracked open despair Pomegranate red drops of fresh squeezed blood Mixed with scalding hot tears The culmination of broken loss Life's timing forever tilted off My designs drawn in the sand Washed away with the rising tide Riding the knuckles of fate's fickle hand Plunged under the surface with aspirating aspirations The choked out gasps of fallen expectations Hope soaked and molding Resolve cracked and folding Slipping through my fingers like the finest grains of sand The shape and weight of those dreams like faded memories in starving hands

Gravel ground against itself as I took one step after another. Although I could barely make it out in the midnight darkness, I knew that the black asphalt stretched out in front of me like a calloused noir arm reaching into infinity. The night breeze was nearly frigid, a stark contrast to the burning sun of midday. As soon as the sun set I slipped on my jacket. It's fabric slid against my sunburnt skin and sent a burning pain radiating across my arms and neck. I became keenly aware of my body at that moment. The way the fabric of my shirt moved against my skin, the way my feet ached so bad that the hurt travelled all the way to my upper thighs. My feet slid around in the vast house of my shoes, leaving bleeding callouses on my heels. My once soft curls fluttered with each whisper of wind. My hands were in knots, shoved deep into my jacket's pockets. I listened intently for the sound of a car engine, for the promise of human life, but heard only deafening silence. If ther...

The weight of the world is on my lips Pressing, burning, aching to open and say That you are a watch And that I'm measured in you Stop or go Fast or slow Just a glance makes eternity wait As my mind traces the curves of your face Reality drifts away Lost in the waves of denim jeans Wandering the desert of porcelain skin Hidden in a jungle of black locks There is no trail left behind for my return I've accepted that you will swallow me whole Either leaving me as wreckage Or meshing me into your soul

I teach high school English and I also tutor elementary and middle school students. No matter what the age group, I see a common and alarming trend among children. They can't focus! These kids, our kids, are being affected by two pervasive things: instant gratification and constant stimulation. They get what they want, when they want. So when they come to school, they expect to run the show, which just isn't how it works - at school or in life. They talk back to teachers, question why they have to do assignments, argue about their grades, turn in assignments late and detest having to focus. It's no wonder that teachers are jumping ship right and left. Believe it or not, there once was a day when kids were respectful, did not question their assignments or grades, did not badger their teachers to grade faster, did not bring weapons to school or start fights, did not wage an electronics war or refuse to work. As teachers we receive absurd amounts of training on be...

A few of my Spotify playlists: Do you miss someone? Are they gone for good? Then playlist is perfect! It will help you dive deeper into your conflicted emotions, leaving you feeling contemplative and perhaps sleepy. This mix is made up of the best artists, and it's sure to meet your mood. Sometimes I Miss You Feeling like you could walk out your front door and conquer the world? Well, don't go without this playlist.  Uplift Are you suffering from writers block? Take a sledgehammer to that mental block with this rich, moving, and subtly emotional playlist. It will reconnect you to your innermost feelings, clear your mind, and hopefully assist you on your literary journey. Also great to study to. Writing Music

The night was muggy. A heaviness hung in the air that wasn't typical to Fort Worth, but the humidity must have followed me here. It was Saturday night, the city was abuzz. And as I walked down the sidewalk I observed the passerby's. Memories of my college years washed over me… seeing plays at the Bass, private shows at McDavid studio, eating lobster at The Chop House, staying at the Worthington Renaissance Hotel, outings with my sorority sisters, pizza and drinks at Uno's, parties at the Flying Saucer.  But I wasn't in town to stroll down memory lane. I was here to get away.  So far my efforts were failing. It may have been a five hour drive to get here, but every stress, every worry, every fear, had followed me here. I came for a distraction, but had yet to find it. Which is exactly why I was making my way towards a nondescript bar with a rich lounge feel.  A sweet melodic sound emanated from the live band and floated through the relaxed atmosphere. Th...

Each week, thousands tune in to watch the hit drama "The Blacklist" on NBC. And everyone who watches the show seems to have some theories about how Red Reddington and Elizabeth Keen are connected. What's interesting to note is that there is a whole community who ships (wants the romantic pairing of) Red and Lizzie. They even have a shipper name: Lizzington! At first I thought this notion was odd, because when the show first aired I had a sneaking suspicion that Red was Lizzie's father. But the more I watch the Blacklist, the less I am convinced of this. As a writer myself, it is always my goal to keep readers guessing. And when the show aired, nearly everyone thought that Red was her father. I think that is what the writers were aiming for, but with a show with as many twists and turns as the Blacklist, it'd be hard to believe that the writers would take such a predictable path. The episode last night really confirmed for me that he is not her father. ...

I used to look up at the sky As I lay on my skateboard At the end of the driveway And think to myself That you weren’t that far +++++++++++++++++++++ Highlighter green Apples poured off the trees That lined the drive littering the concrete But I would push them aside Rolling back and forth As I stared at the sky +++++++++++++++++++++ Thinking that this was the same sun That wrapped you in light And even though it was hard Maybe you weren’t that far …Just a sky away ….Not that far apart …Just a plane ride from today And we were connected still Because the clouds that rolled over me in the light of day Would hover over you at night, in the sweet Pennsylvania dark +++++++++++++++++++++ Just nine years old I went where I was told My back on the black sandy surface Of a well-worn skateboard That peeled at the corners Nudging apples out of my way As I rocked back and forth In the burning heat of midday With nothing in me that...

I feel like it's been a really long time since I've written a blog post. I guess that's what happens when you start another blog (or two). I don't even know what to write right now. Not every piece of writing can be a stroke of genius, and I feel tapped out. Between the art I churn out non-stop and the writing I do for myself...I'm tired. It's a good distraction though...writing, blogging, art, SAT tutoring, art tutoring. It keeps my mind off the fact that everything's going to change. But hey, who doesn't love drastic life changes? Oh right...everybody. Haha. All I can think right now is that I'd love to go home. That and I ate way too many toffee-flavored, chocolate covered almonds. So instead of putting into words the past (however many) weeks, I thought I'd just slap up some photos. The probability that anyone is reading this is likely slim, but I don't really care. This post is for me - so I don't forget the good things tha...

The sight of himself as a child was jarring. There was no time to think, no room to breathe. Jim’s blue eyes were blown wide with panic, his vision sending him black dot warnings of hyperventilation. He took measured breaths to slow his heart and balled his fingers into fists so hard that little pink crescent marks were forming in the flesh. Before him was the expansive window of the deck, that had become a video monitor, and behind him was the majority of his first shift crew, staring at the screen. “Shut it off,” he ground out through locked teeth. “I can’t sir…” Sulu replied weakly, frantically pawing at the technology before him - to no avail. --- That morning, despite his First Officer’s protests, Jim beamed down to a newfound Class M planet that they had been hovering over for nearly a week. The blue sphere was called Kasor, and was completely undiscovered until they shot down a Starfleet vessel in trans orbital exploration. Apparently they possessed incr...