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11th Collection


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A little music.

This one was fun to arrange. It may not sound as if I’m playing very fast, but it’s a faster pace than I normally work with…lol So glad I have a digital keyboard too, for practicing in the evening with my headphones. Really gets me away from it all.

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Under Pressure

This painting was unplanned and one I procrastinated with, but once I began coloring, it reminded me of the phrase “You can’t squeeze blood from a turnip.” A phrase I grew up hearing my mother say. So I guess that’s what it will represent to me now, blood being squeezed from a turnip…lol That and also pressure in general, being cornered without an option to turn to or anything to bargain with. That seems to be where my days rest most often. I’m still with hope there is more I will eventually be able to do to change this all for the better.

I have updated my music page as well. Every original piece so far is there, all free for listening and otherwise.






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“From the Nothing I’ve Become”

These sketches just belong together.

I wrote the poem below weeks ago after discussing something with my doctor that still leaves me feeling like I’ll endlessly be ramming into a brick wall as long as I’m alive. But anyway, I put that anger into these lines and tried, but failed by the results, to sing them how I meant. What else is new… My music is still a huge secret when I think about the time – something only I really know/care and have to obsess over. It’s keeping me though, whether or not the more days I have are a waste, some ideas aren’t letting me go quite yet.

I Must

You say no.
Too much I am.
It’s far too much I ask –
That you listen and respond,
Give me worth and grace me with your words

When I’m broken and begging you to mean the world.

Exhausted with my sickness, aren’t we all?
I promise you, it won’t happen again.
I promise I’ll do better to pretend I have no choice
But to survive,
Be strong enough to live up to this lie…

I must believe in what I’ve lost faith in –
Be against all that I trust.
When the silence and great distance are all that
I’ve ever known of love.




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Don’t leave the worst out.

The Hate You Mean

Speak your heart.
Don’t leave the worst out – your hurt just for me,
The hate you mean.

I never needed you to lie. It rests at my foundation.
The sick of soul feeds from inside,
Scraping clean my humanness…

She is begging to die.


Something I wrote days before deciding to leave the bakery.

I’ve eaten nothing for three days now. Still managed to do my routine exercising this morning, but definitely took it easy – I had no choice with the chest pain/short breath, but I felt better afterward at least. And I don’t feel like I have a choice but to keep myself empty until I have a reason not to be. There are no interviews, no plans to look forward to – just more nothing. A lack of will and lack of “life goals” that has no easy fix. I thought about contacting my doctor, but what can he do or anyone else? We discussed my taking a trip, but I’m in no condition to go anywhere by myself. And beside that, there will be the same emptiness to return home to. I’d rather not return at all.



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