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red wine, leather, tribal bellydance, waxing philosophical, vintage hats, fire dancing, a really good one liner, sign language, little notes, butterflies, feathers, flies that butter..butters that fly.. the playa, inspiration, balance, flamenco, theories, spiritual connections, oranges dressed in cinnamon, being blissfully in love, being so passionate i lose my breath..politics, ancient jewelry, my altar, him...... .. ....
her:a snowman who doesn't wear a hat indoors.flying hands speaking words, my favorite poet, a historical activist. the ocean's breath at midnight. more women who mix roses and leather. creators, destroyers, designers, deciders. people with an unlimited amount of love. people who believe in manifest destiny.
my range is wide. poetic lyrics that provokes memories, heavy bass that i can bellydance to, violins..an upright bass..strings..glitch, cowbell, something with a feminist twang, gypsy jazz, organic downtempo that hits my soul..upright bass, flamenco, a finger picked guitar, the humming tempo of my sewing machine, birdsong, the crackling in an only record player, acoustic, electronic..
the fountain, fried green tomatoes, house of yes, memoirs of a geisha, juno
uhmmm...lost.
written on the body, memoirs of a geisha, a thousand splendid suns, the forgiveness parade, rumi, unbearable lightness of being, the spliter factory, the alibi school, eat pray love, kabul beauty school ..james and the giant peach.. "Articulacy of fingers, the language of the deaf and dumb, signing on the body body longing. Who taught you to write in blood on my back? Who taught you to use your hands as branding irons? You have scored your name into my shoulders, referenced me with your mark. The pads of your fingers have become printing blocks, you tap a message on to my skin, tap meaning into my body. Your Morse code interferes with my heart beat. I had a steady heart before I met you, I relied upon it, it had seen active service and grown strong. Now you alter its pace with your own rhythm, you play upon me, drumming me taut." - jeanette winterson. ..written on the body.
my mother.