mardi 29 juillet 2008

Yes we're gonna Love for a living!

I don't need shoes for where we go my eyes won't see drenched in the bath of my tears painful bliss, let me go, can't let you go,let me go, can't won't...



OH Goddess! How much I adore that Tori amos b-side I discovered it lately.
It inspired me a lot for this picture titled:I don't need shoes for where we go my eyes won't see drenched in the bath of my tears painful bliss, let me go, can't let you go,let me go, can't won't...

and that poem to go with it:

Whenever you leave with these loads from the attic
Whenever I drown my morning in the bath of your crying words
I cut my wings in wet and frayed garlands
For your hand is in my heart
Underwater comfort don't breathe now hush
Every wound remain quiet can't you hear now
Under your feet my love
In my palms your love
I don't need shoes for where we go
I can't even feel why is this so heavy
I undress my theatrical persona
All in all I numb this aching zephyrs hail my twisters
On my knees on thousands miles of mental sufferings how long the bleeding
Where the rainbow ends some embraces torture me
Electric trauma I don't want to close the doorways
Watery coma I want to follow your steps under the hailstrom of question marks
How they cut me through how they open every past lesion
How desperate the unsafe bridge of our merging
Pangs of liquid stars this emergency makes me cry inside
I cut some " I don't know" on my wrist and from my slashed heart
Float away some glowing dark I'll never beg forgiveness I know this hell(...)

Sacred chaos who cares about your salvation



Most of my pictures must be in the company of music, lyrics or even poems of mine, it's not as if they were powerless without the words, but it just either solace the torments in them or it's a big release for me.

it must cost a fortune ...this adoration when the storm of words blew away the cradle of my heart, darling when did we fall I suppose our crime's price is this pining like barbwires in my last watery bed...
Title:it must cost a fortune ...this adoration when the storm of words blew away the cradle of my heart, darling when did we fall I suppose our crime's price is this pining like barbwires in my last watery bed...

No bleeding
Please assuage this pangs close my eyes with your hand
There are thousands truths in my book I'd rather not see in the glaring light
Let me lie in the waters when my love invades my soul
Of course it's made of suffering anytime I read back not knowing
What will be written tomorrow
Passionate apneas pacify this chaos of words infiltrating my veins
Did you break into my heart
I remember it was window
Ease the pain of my "I don't know" bath where I could stay for hours and days
Sometimes an impulse tells me it's time
Thus I tear up the curtains
I destroy every mask
I peel the paint
I beat down the wall
tell me what's behind
I don't mind hurting my legs on the barbwires
I'd rather cut myself a little than denying
What do you have to lose when you believe that nothing lasts?
Is it real?
What does it mean?
A pouring rain of cleansing and relieving emotions stopping time
Freezing questions marks themselves
Oh my love I am sorry whenever my little feet are tired and doubtful
I am sorry to steal your pages
the ones you love to fall asleep with
Forgive me for the harsh flames of a tired fire and when I bite some words with all my years of bitterness
I never knew and I will never understand
It takes me time to understand I have centuries of hidden desires
I have centuries of awareness before my true yearnings
Perhaps It will bring more life as we decide to kill the dream
It's time to die my love, my love, my love it's time for this to expire
How will it feel?
My soul against yours
My heart against yours
and our spirit cells gathering(...)

music by Delerium


That bath series pictures were a mix of emotions,passion, death,resurection,rebirth,so called salvation of the soul.
Parallels between baptising and the water of the bath made of liquid words of passion.
Torments too.
Purety vs romance. and the intensity of it.
Nothing out of control.
but a let go.

not a door but a window.

The devotion for God, in the sacredness of the Churche vs the devotion in the name of Love True.
And sometimes you don't feel you need to care whether you'll be saved in the end, you can undergo the damnation because it's worth the price.

I also firmly believed that God if He/She does exist, He/She does not need our exclusive devotion.
I have faith so to me I feel sign of the Presence of something higher, the energy, the soul of the universe, something that is constantly teaching us, making us grow and help tend towards some kind of higher good, higher understanding, bigger tolerance, wider loving kindness.
I do believe in this.

To me the Energy of Light in this world wants to love.
In many ways,and to serve the light.
I am thus devoted to Emotions, to making others feel,share,feel inspired and understood.

I believe I am here to LOVE and no one nothing can or will stop me from this.

I love the bathroom.
One of my favourite place in the house.
I always feel safe and apeased there.
My big solace: the water gliding on my skin.

I love to watch the droplet gently fall from my eyelashes.
It's my strange moments of life with acurate awareness of tiny details of this life.
Each drops like a tear I can not cry, but washing my soul from its negative emotions.
breaking the possible fetters of guilt.

I can feel guilt for a thousands reasons.
but when people feel I don't care enough because I don't answer emails very fast or because I am too busy to do everything I'd like to do.

Guilt will never be but a waste of time and energy.
I know it so well.
so let go.
the water apease.
I am alone but I feel so good, on my own.
I'm rinced of all feeling of melancholly or hopelessness and I also comfort my baby empathy.

It can be so very heavy at time to feel others' sorrow.
When you love them, or can relate to their beautiful humanity you feel such an impotence not to be able to cast the light in their world.

FIN

"don't tell Louka Hannah maybe I love her"
A door a corridor to the sacredness in the core
We used to be young
Seashell in the island of this never happened ineffable feeling of affection
Under the rain everything is easier
Everything was beautiful but I cannot say nothing ached
I let this go away
Into another lifetime perhaps
Soft raindrops everything is quiet
Funerals of our darling Little fear
Farewell angel we've kept on missing one another
In the little pink book I will keep all the warmest memories
Of words that made us feel
Of words that made us breathe
Of hours that made us cry
Of hours that made us fly
Calm burial most of emotions were already ceased and fettered
Each path became slowly mute even if I tried to take up the sound
We've both walked in one another silences
There was not any fruits to sweeten the soul hunger anymore
Harvest of empty arms drought indulged in doubts
Should we fill the urn of these cinders but only with sighs
I will ever be there for you away from this tomb
All the flowers will find a healing ways kissing the marble
Everything ends with a poem
words weeping in the flames and moonlight dust


**********

People often think of my lands of emotions is made of sadness.

I am and will ever be a melancholic woman, because there are things I have lived, because I am aware of a lot of things, because I think a lot.
I may be such a fucking dumb gorgeous dreamer for some people or anything but a sexy baby in need of love, but I do know who I am and I stand for my big sensitivity, I dont deny it, I dont feel ashamed to be able to feel so much and to be able to cry out of joy or sorrow.

this is my humanity.


Please let's rev up this Machine where the stars crackle like china under my skin please whatever it is let's rev up the reverie may we find motionless bliss drenched in tears to begin the real book...


Please take me out of the screen take me out of my skin
Please away away from me
Tell them I'm not a dream
Dried wires of compulsive process
treatment for the poetry freaks I am no remedy
They could perhaps all curse me I am no cure I know this
I know I am just hearing on bleeding knees
My awareness is a mere book of rays of light entwined in dot lines
Please take me away from this Illusion Machine
Take me far from this engine
Revving the cogs of this ever written memory reverie
Tell me we don't need a safety tell me you are not even afraid
Please write your understanding in a blue cloud crying music sheet
Have I ever been in between Thanatos and Eros
Flowers overflowing in the little coffins
Tell me the cross are only for kisses
Open the way my soul half blind half clairvoyant
Feel the rime on my eyelids and the buds in my hair
Tell me I am still alive tell me I am not dead
please tell me you know I'm not dead
Show me Elsewhere
I imagine it does not exist
Please write it all for me whenever I feel weak
I need no sympathy no flowers no gifts no meddling
I wish for a translator for the hushed sounds inside me
I wish for a day of stillness and an embrace of emotions that says:
"I am here I understand and I love you true"


***********

I believe we are never seen as who we are by others.
This neither sad nor tragic.
I am not frustrated by this.
I sometimes still see myself having to prove I am real or justify because words don't define me and won't ever.
Who are we to define another's soul with mere words anyways?

L'oubliee

Behind the music behind the words : the key of my heart

My words designed to reach her soul

Mon Jardin de Nuit Vide( My Empty Garden of Night)

Mon jardin de nuit vide


Love & COmmunication("say I am right!"-Trust my heart!")

How do you write ugly how do you write old I feel I have lived centuries my case was always holding the real Soul Light of me

title:
How do you write ugly how do you write old I feel I have lived centuries my case was always holding the real Soul Light of me

My soul, my soul
they write ugly on every book and page
They know nothing about the phantom dances before my eyes
And I breathe you in
my soul my heart my soul
Each blades are running on my veins whenever you use this "ugly" word
Through my eyes I read between lines of the most beautiful end of springtime
I tell every bird on my way about all the sighs and words you write under my steps
and I follow each trail of yours footprint
Blood petals of those miles of time
reach my hand everything is read
my love everything is red
A ripe craddle of truth fruits and a bed of tranquility
Everytime your words just swirl into my ears
Crumpled sheets of memories
How would this have been a life with no merging
Cleansing fountain of faery tears
It's just a case
My treasure case
And when you feel
and when you care enough for the inside gem
You really know what Beauty means
(...)

In the box of his heart the picture of a stained Princess

Me playing with my polaroid ^_^and photoshop.

I'm having my first exhibition in Brussels, Belgium:
My first exhibition in Brussels in September 2008

It's wonderful!! I am so very excited and amazed!
2008 is truly even better than 2007!
I want to thank everyone I cherish and the whole universe!
and I'll thank my inner fae child too for taking me there :-))


I'm always feeling very blessed with all the Light in my life.
I notice all the instability of it too, dancing from a feet to another, sometimes reality sometimes dreaming higher.

I often got the feeling my life is like a book, these years are the best I've ever lived because I choose to LIVE.
I don't neglect a thing on my journey down here.
Perhaps because I remember my years of Death when I let died many things of the whole of me.
Maybe I also fear to go back to the Underworld...

I value it all and I stop denying who I am and my yearnings to feel Alive.
To live with Passion too.
I cry if I want I love if I want to
I go where I want to with who I want to
I create moments to feel Calm in my body and soul.

I will also learn to credit myself better I guess.
But the real things I would credit myself for is my capacity to Love and to express all of my emotions/feelings.

the rest: my art, my poetry, my phoetry etc...these things are a part of this.
Therefore those who know will ever remember me as "what did she do in her life?"

"she loved"
Yes we're gonna love for a living...

lundi 7 juillet 2008

My She(s) & I

I am not Helenina, I am me.
She is a part of me.
She is the art part of me.
she is a creation of me too.A constant evolution.A twister of emotions.you never know where it'll go, neither do I.I let her go.

I'm born of you too.
Of course.

The ones who read, who stop, who care about my work.

I am published ^____^ for Artful Blogging magazine/Autumn 2008 Issue

I'm going to be published in artful blogging.

Tu me rends belle

This is Ours

Son je est mon autre

I'll try to write more in the afternoon.

I am very glad about that.
I really am very touched, glad and grateful to the person who did that job and put such a big picture of me in somerset as an ad for the coming issue of artful blogging.
thank you Stacy and the other persons who work on this!

Boost the constrasts of an empty queendom#162The first day without feeling his soul caressing my neck#163Everdeen says: How lonely this heart machine without her poem to read#161Rain says: the musical paths of my soul aren't the same#160