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kupo17
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Name: Kelsey
Country: United States
Metro: Boston
Gender: Female
Interests: Anything awkward. Art. Reading. Painting. True love. Fantasy. The bad. The good. Beauty. Beasts of all natures and descriptions. Games. Chases. Escapes. Truths. Miracles. Passion.
Expertise: The School of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Occupation: Student
Industry: Art
Message: message me
Member Since:
6/5/2004
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| like breathing Venezia - Carnivale
Today I am captivated with the way wind tends to make things move... It
delicately lifts, sways, and upturns all in its path, giving life to
ordinary objects. As I was standing outside watching my kindergarteners
play, I couldn't help but notice how the trees looked like they were
breathing.
And what I want more than anything is to have a camcorder with me on days like this. Who knew the wind could scratch my art-itch.
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| And gravity caught my love around.Vernazza
I'm not doing so well these days. Most of the time I feel hollow and a little lonely. It could be the weather. Or that there's less to do. Maybe it's the end of college approaching and the ever daunting decision of what to do next. Or it might just be because I actually am alone.
This song soothed my soul a little bit today, and I thought it would be nice to share. It's a little long, but really worth reading and listening to.
While you were sleeping,
Your babies grew,
The stars shined and the shadows moved,
Time flew, the phone rang,
There was a silence when the kitchen sang.
Its songs competed like kids for space;
We stared for hours in our maker's face.
They gave us picks,
Said go mine the sun,
And go gold and come back when you're done.
While you were sleeping,
You tossed, you turned,
You rolled your eyes as the world burned.
The heavens fell, the earth quaked,
I thought you must be, but you weren't awake.
No, you were dreaming;
You ignored the sun.
You grew your power garden,
For your little ones,
And you found brides for them on christmas eve.
They hung young Cain from the Adam trees,
And danced.
While you were sleeping,
I tossed and I turned,
'til I closed my eyes;
But the future burned,
Through the planet turned a hair gray,
As I relived the day.
While you were sleeping,
The money died,
Machines were harmless and the earth sighed.
Through the wind you slept sound,
And gravity caught my love around.
The ocean rose, sang about decay,
While witches flew,
And the mermaids stayed.
Full of dreams, you overslept,
And keeping with the quiet, through the walls I crept;
I walked on tiptoe, sent darkness swirling over all the kitchen in the early morning.
I'll never catch up to you,
Who sleeps so sound.
My arms are useless,
My heart beats too loud to go to sleep,
My mind's too proud to bow out.
While you were sleeping,
The time changed,
All your things were rearranged,
Your vampire mirrors face to face,
They saw forever out into space,
And found you dreaming in black and white,
While it rained in all the colors of the night.
I watched the tvs,
Memories,
Championships,
Vanished to sea.
Could it be, my honey between you and me?
So I waited for the riddled sky,
To dissolve again by sunrise;
And I've made a death suit for life,
For my father's ill widowed wife.
Did you have that strangest dream before you woke?
'cos in your gown you had the butterfly stroke.
Did it escape you like some half told joke,
When you reached for your plume of smoke?
It'll haunt you, my honey bee.
Anyone who is anyone has that same dream.
Were you falling?
Were you flying?
And were you calling out?
Or were you dying?
Thank god you're up now.
Let's stay this way.
Else there'll be no mornings,
And no more days.
'cos when we're dreaming,
Our babies grow,
The sun shines,
And the shadows flow,
Time flies,
The phone rings,
There is a silence,
And everybody tries to sing.
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| the power of weI thought this was so inspiring:
Yes, we can!
"It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation.
Yes we can.
It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail toward freedom.
Yes we can.
It
was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and
pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness.
Yes we can.
It
was the call of workers who organized; women who reached for the
ballots; a President who chose the moon as our new frontier; and a King
who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the Promised Land.
Yes we can to justice and equality.
Yes we can to opportunity and prosperity.
Yes we can heal this nation.
Yes we can repair this world.
Yes we can.
We
know the battle ahead will be long, but always remember that no matter
what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can stand in the way of the
power of millions of voices calling for change.
We have been
told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics...they will only grow
louder and more dissonant ........... We've been asked to pause for a
reality check. We've been warned against offering the people of this
nation false hope.
But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope.
Now
the hopes of the little girl who goes to a crumbling school in Dillon
are the same as the dreams of the boy who learns on the streets of LA;
we will remember that there is something happening in America; that we
are not as divided as our politics suggests; that we are one people; we
are one nation; and together, we will begin the next great chapter in
the American story with three words that will ring from coast to coast;
from sea to shining sea --
Yes. We. Can."
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| through the eyes of a long, lost starbucksHeidelberger
through the eyes of a long, lost starbucks
What's pulling me through the week:
The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead. His eyes are closed.
Albert Einstein | | |
| sometimes... Vernazza, Cinque Terre
Sometimes I wish to be better.
A better person.
A better friend.
A better artist.
I want to be the one who inspires,
and not the one who waits.
Sometimes I want to always have something to say,
and never bore you for a minute.
Sometimes I wish that I worked harder,
and followed my hopes of one day
becoming a musician.
Or a writer.
Sometimes I long to go to far away places,
but know that my heart won't let me leave.
I want to go with my intuition,
and follow those fleeting fantasies of creativity.
And I want to be able to express those feelings,
that no one else sees.
Sometimes I wish I kept in better touch.
But I'm scared.
And nervous.
And feeling a little bit low.
My desires and future plans seem to change all too frequently. There are so many things I wish for myself, but I'm not sure if some of them will ever come true or not. Maybe changing my mind so often is what's stunting me, but how do you know when to follow? Perhaps an ideal version of me was lost a few years ago -- when I used to feel apart of something. I can remember feeling meaningful connections with the world and was excited most days. When my soul was worn down, I embraced those brilliant ideas that tend to accompany lonely moods. Maybe it's just a part of growing up... reality sets in and you no longer think about things the way you used to anymore. And before you know it, you hardly know yourself.
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