On the Road- A Fury Of Color In the Southwest

Driving Through Arizona

No Art Journal Monday today folks.

I’m on the road and I wasn’t organized enough to get my shit together before I left to have one queued up ready to go. And if that isn’t the theme pretty much everytime I head out on the road, I’m not sure what is. Things like having an itinerary and even just knowing exactly where i’m headed are things I always leave till last minute but….I kinda get addicted to the feeling of throwing things at the wall and seeing something new and unexpected take shape.

The loose plan is currently (over several days obviously cause i’m not totally insane):
Texas —> Grand Canyon —> Zion National Park —> Bryce Canyon —> Grand Staircase- Escalante National Monument–> Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park—> Four Corner Monument—> Santa Fe —> Texas

Rest Stop Poetry

the Grand Canyon, March weather

The drive out of Texas into New Mexico is one i’ve done before but this time the colors seemed to just burn even before I had left the flat lands of east Texas. At the first rest stop in New Mexico me and the boyfriend found words and lyrics (Car Radio- Twenty One Pilots) scribbled onto the red faux-adobe walls of the picnic seating area and as the sun set over Arizona as we neared Flagstaff, the sky just burst into cotton candy splendor that felt like the best kind of welcome.

Will be leaving the Grand Canyon sometime tomorrow to head towards Zion and i’m just extremely excited to explore all these new lands i’ve never been to before. I’ve been favored with clear skies, crisp winds and brilliant sunshine and i’m not gonna waste one second of it.


P.s Yes all these photos were taken with my iPhone but I promise the rest are actually being shot with my camera in RAW and JPEG format so…idk, better photos to come.

Art Journal Monday- And Maybe He Has Fallen

art journal, the saints and the angelsart journal, mixed media


Lately it seems i’m been intoxicated by the idea of the would be saints and martyrs that never made it to the holy stage of their journey, the boy-kings felled before their golden age could come about, the cities left in ruins with only the memory of their greatness left in the cracks of their stones.


and maybe he has fallen...art journal pages but I swear that so have I....art journal pages

I know I don’t really talk about it but I really rather enjoy history. I enjoy listening to hour long history lectures on grand overviews of world affecting turmoils and dipping my toes in the flurry eddies of short podcasts that delve into oddly specific events and moments in time that were never covered in history classes. Plenty of my friends have this idea of “history” as that snore-fest inducing period they had to endure in high school, and I can’t say I had much fun either (pretty sure I skipped more history classes than I ever attended). But there is this intoxicating richness that lies in even the most boring of history textbooks that I could never ignore, that questions of “well, what happened after that then?” or better yet, ” ok, but what if this had happened instead?

art journal monday, art journal pages

Anyways, before I go off about the un-mutable spirit of mankind and how gladly every age seems to march inexorably towards destruction and ruin with a spirt unbroken, i’m gonna end this here, cause who really wants that?

On a more cheery note, this Friday i’m leaving good ole’ Texas for a 10 day roadtrip with the boyfriend to the following line-up of fantastic locations: The Grand Canyon, Zion National Park,  Bryce Canyon and Santa Fe. Basically, i’m gonna go look at breathtaking landscapes that boggle the mind and then spend the last half of the trip finding tasty foods to indulge in while I wave year 24 of my life goodbye and ring in a quarter century of life. Should hopefully be fun and not end up with me regretting my life choices.

here’s to a quarter century more,


Art Journal Monday- What Do You Dream About These Days?

 Slytherin themed artjournal pages

What are your dreams, when you dream- if you dream- what do they resemble? What shapes do they take?

I dream of saints and mountains and the golden flow of time. Those with bruised, dirty feet covered by heavy cloth, mini swirls of dust teased up by the movement of their path. I dream of outer space; the known exciting possibilities and established hard scientific rules….and smash them together with dreams of the fantastical and thoroughly unknown and almost impossible. I lose time on thoughts of deep and dark forests, the peaks of powdery mountains unfurling endlessly in the distance, and the sensation of tiny waves passing over and over at my feet as I stand up against the fury of a nameless ocean with my hands utterly empty at my sides.

dreams of green, art journal pages

Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can see notes of music flow underneath my hands as I pass them over the cold keys of my neglected keyboard, sounds both known and not coming apart underneath my fingertips, their composition disintegrating just as they reach completion in someones ears. Colors splash like blood spatter against paper when I trail my hands over my art supplies, and in my head it’s all an endless parade of anything goes and the laws of what is physically possibly by hand do not apply.

Dreams are so nonsensical- until they’re not and then when they make sense, you wonder if you can trust anything at all. They’re hard to explain, and even harder to make into any kind of reality and it’s so easy to get lost in them, the purity they hold so different from waking life.

What are your non-sensical dreams made up of, what basic building blocks of components do they share, if any?

art journal pages, Slytherin themed

Music on Repeat- 

Ave Famy
Giving Up My EchoesBelgrave
Beautiful HellAdna
Til My Heart StopsToo Far Moon
Dreams TodayEfterklang
Deep Shadow- T.T.L 
A Historic Love- Trevor Morris
Opus 36- Dustin O’Halloran


February Life- Silver Skulls, Books and Coffee

coffee and my art journal

January held the kind of intensity of a dump truck running over my body over and over- but not in a totally bad way. Mostly it was the month full of challenges at work, trying to figure out if wearing heels was worth the professionalism boost vs the fact that i’m still not adept enough to run around rapidly in them and the subsequent decrease in speed that would bring. It was also the month where I didn’t get much done, artistically speaking, due to coming home from work dragging the stress with me till I finally fell asleep much too late into the hours past midnight.

Coffee and Tumblr

Not an over-all bad month though.

February though, i’ve got plans for you. I have 4 books I’m pretty much going to force myself to get through if I have to, just so I can get back on the reading horse, since it seems my ravenous love for books has taken a backseat to anything and everything else and I really want to blame tumblr for that and the way it sucks me in for hours on end reading what amount to essays on the upcoming Captain America movie and marveling at gifsets and edits for even the most overlooked characters/moments in films and books. It so easy to obsess over the things I love on there and gods if it’s not my most severe addiction.

Saga, Welcome to Night Vale, The World Is Curved - random books I read

But, books! Currently just a couple of pages away from finishing the Welcome to Night Vale novel and I still haven’t decided how I feel about it. On the one hand the writing is excellent and my head conjures up images of used car salesmen howling on the roof of broken down cars much easier than when I listen to the podcast but on the other hand…there is something lacking that I can’t quite put my finger on. The World Is Curved is something I picked up on my last ill-advised trip to Half-Price books (ill advised because I always come home with twice as many books as I said I would) with a couple of other economics themed books I’m honestly excited to tear through as it means I’ll be closer to being able to buy those econ books that don’t hold your hand while dumping all kinds of insane theories at you. Saga was gifted to me by the boyfriend for Christmas and if you haven’t heard of it I really suggest you go give it a look-see. The art is amazing, the characters startlingly unique and the story is the perfect blend of humorous and heartbreaking. The last book i’m getting through is The Cosmic Perspective but honestly, it’s not really a book you read through, mostly because it’s actually a textbook and something I picked up as a reference source for a project i’m working on, though for a textbook it’s terribly engrossing and makes me want to walk up to people and be like “DID YOU KNOW-” about space things.

words and more words, fables and coffee

Apart from dealing with pharmaceutical intricacies at work, plowing through a mini-stack of books,tempering my addiction to tumblr, and trying to finish art projects, i’ve also been writing. There are currently 6 legal pads filled with inane ideas, store outlines, world building, plot points and character arcs and while i’m still editing the last project (Whiskey Runner- the Ocean Is Spilling) so I can feel more confident about shopping it around to agents, it hasn’t stopped me from dreaming of treasure hunting space pirates colliding with honor-bound tech savvy marauders, Djinns on roadtrips across the great heartland of America, and messing around with the idea of Empaths and the idea of what love could mean to someone who very literally, feels everything. My best friend has put up her services to help me pick which will be the next project, so heaven help her with that honestly.

Skully and Slytherin

Not drowning in my coffee cups yet,

The silver skull featured in the photos above is named Skully because I was very tired and feeling really unimaginative the day I got him and you’ll be pleased to know the the lady at the furniture store I purchased him from gave me the weirdest look when I told her I would be putting him in the loft where I keep my books. But you tell me where the f*** else am I going to put him, the garden?

Art Journal Monday- Ageing and Terrible Life Choices

terrible life choices, art pages

I turn a year older next month and i’m not quite sure how to feel about it.

Not that i’m scared of getting a year closer to 30 because, to tell the truth, i’m pretty excited to see what my 30s will bring. Whenever I mention that to friends however, they usually look at me like i’m lying, which, I can understand since i’m a female, that gender raised to fear age from the day we’re old enough to know what aging really means. That fear that is insidious and so very very hard to shake off, and I can’t say it was any kind of easy for me to not let it burrow inside, not with a mother who collected anti-aging creams like they were collectibles and a father who’s romantic inclinations only seemed to encompass the qualities of “younger”.

colored pencil art journal pages

Thing is though, even though next month I will finally be solidly in my mid 20’s, I can’t wait to leave them behind, and I really wish with all my might that everyone older than me would stop telling me to enjoy my youth, to stop cocking their heads to the side in apparent sympathy at my naiveness to think the outrageous thought that getting older is going to be something fantastic. It’s an odd kind of self-hate, at least as it appears to me, to be in your 30’s or edging towards your 50’s and tell me words like “gosh, you don’t know what you’re saying, I wish I still lived in my 20’s”.

Part of it might be a generational thing, or maybe it’s a cultural thing or maybe it’s just the people I associate with. Whatever it might be though, the outcome is the same: me clicking my mouth shut like a steel trap and nodding in agreement as in my head, I ask the same question over and over again.

“Why? Why do you hate aging so much? Is it the idea of death? Of edging closer to being forgotten? Is it the greater possibility of falling to illness? It is the fear of your body no longer giving what it once could easily spare?” 

fables and coffee, art journal pages

If it was any of those things, I would understand and sympathize. But it never feels like it’s any of these things. The sentiment of “youth is wasted on the young” always seemed to come from a place of regret and i’ve yet to meet a single person who has lived even half of a full life express any combination of those words.  The women I admire and aspire to emulate, they revel in their age and settle more and more comfortably in their skin as the years pass and to them at least, their age is not a weakness or something to look on with regret, if it’s even a think to remark on. It is years of experience, of learning, years full to bursting with more and more and more life.

Look, i’ll be honest here and say my early 20’s have been a surreal kaleidoscope off a terrifying mess, and maybe i’m hoping with age I will learn how to keep myself together better. But I don’t exactly expect the next 5 years to be filled with any less of a disaster, because I think I will always be the kind of person who drives off into the middle of the night with a half charged phone and only snacks in the backseat. What I DO expect however, is to approach my 30s with more discipline towards the things I’m passionate about and more temperance towards the people I love.

I want to fill my life with learning, experience and eventually have the kind of face that speaks towards character more than beauty. I don’t want to be the kind of person who tries to instill fear in the heart of the young girl sitting across from me when she tells me she’s excited to get closer to her 30’s, because what does that achieve? I want to be in my 40’s one day and be able to say, “I can’t wait to see what my 50’s will bring.”  And sure, perhaps that makes me come across as unbearably naive- but it’s better than coming off as bitter.

Songs on Repeat: 

Blood BankBon Iver
Make Me Feel BetterAlex Adair
Go Out and Love SomeonePogo
La Mer– (cover by)Julio Iglesias
Fire EscapeFoster The People
RunawayYeah Yeah Yeahs
NovemberMax Richter