Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

my blackout poetry anniversary

returning, after a long time of posting nothing here.
i'm also returning to my one of my senior projects after an almost equally long amount of time after it's exhibition. 

it's what got me so hooked onto blackout poetry in the first place, and this blog's existence. as i worked on my blackout project, i wanted to save the individual poetries as the happened. i have worked on enough projects to have thrown away most ideas of a work staying the same throughout the entire creative process. even if i did want to keep it concrete, it needed to be flexible and changeable in order to be something creative. i allowed that and it worked. a few years after its completion, i am still very pleased and even quite proud of this project. 

it became what i wanted, what i needed. it was personal, but still something i could share, it had impact on others. i found a way to record the changing process. i can look back and know where the switches turned on. i had to take a deep breath and cross out things i thought i needed in order to move on and make all the pieces come together, forming a story i knew was what it needed to become. and i even forgot if i was working and thinking on my art project or life. i find that both have lessons like this to give.




 the starting panel all the way to the end, taking the viewer on a stroll as they read my journey.
as i worked, i was still writing page after page in journal after journal recording my own changes and experiences and trying to make sense of life. 


 each panel carried it's own story and look and feel, but after looking back and around, figuring it all out, each panel lead to the next step of the story.
"we decided together to show people the beginning" this was the last panel of my work. because even though the reading was over, life was still just starting. and by now, i knew i was not alone.




to read the final poem, you can skip to my post called the journal/the journey.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

a reminder

it took a while to scrape over the cut
stinging
where was her release from?

a crumpled paper
read it again

searched
she found the letter
written for him

his writing was beautiful
he loved her
made her think being born wasn't so bad

"don't forget"
a clear head and heart
hope.

Monday, March 26, 2012

march 30 2012. a day of hope.




30 march 2012 will be the 6th year anniversary from when the first shirt of To Write Love On Her Arms was worn by jon foreman, lead singer of the band switchfoot.
the shirts had been made to help out a friend in need. because the story was one that many shared, it grew into a movement. it started out simply as a way to raise money for the help someone needed and to give hope to someone who'd forgotten hope was real.
now that same hope is shared all over the country and the world. people are finding out that they are not alone in their pain and others are learning that they aren't helpless when their loved ones feel like they're fighting a losing battle.


someone close to me wears TWLOHA shirts very often. he believes the things they say, but he believes them for himself and for others. against all odds. at risk of sounding naive or foolish. he chooses that risk over giving up on anyone. this passionate hope in the form of a t-shirt...it sounds silly but helped me talk about things for the first time.
for the first time i felt safe enough to open up to someone.
and he's still here.




i have a TWLOHA that dogtag that i never take off. one side has lost almost all it graphic; i am onto my third chain for it. my boyfriend gave it to me a little less than two years. i was about to leave for a long hard summer and had already had a lot of problems in the months of school. he gave it to me to remember him, to remember to keep fighting and hoping. because we both knew what the message of TWLOHA meant to us individually and together.

since then the dogtag has been through almost as much pain and struggle as i have. i've spent many nights holding it and rubbing my thumb across it. remembering hope, remembering my boyfriend who's been walking through hell with me, and everyone else loving me.

the paint has chipped, i feel bumps in the necklace.
but now i just think it fits me even better now.
a lot of sleepless nights, desperate for comfort and begging God for some relief.
terrified of losing another battle with myself.
and then the morning comes, and i wake up.
my TWLOHA necklace hangs from my neck.
i'm alive.
i'm not alone.
i'm still moving.
i have a new day to live.

why do i wear TWLOHA? my best answer would be to show you my dogtag necklace. full of story. full of hope. full of love.

rescue is possible.
hope is not a myth.
you are not alone.


Thursday, February 9, 2012

Anthony Omari

this is an article from another blog. the blog itself is fairly accurate in the baseline information it provides on the featured person or character. the author adds insane exaggerations as a creative writing tool.

if you would prefer to skip the language, here's is the basic story. below are some links you can follow to learn more.

the story is about Anthony Omari, who lives in Kenya with his mothers. together they run an orphanage, the Faraja Children's Home in Ngong, Kenya. sadly it has frequently been broken into by thieves and other unsavory people. one particular night, the 4th break-in of the month, Omari took on 3 men with machetes, Omari bravely protected the orphans with a hammer, the only weapon he could manage. his face was cut but a blade and he was given stitches.

he survived and is still helping the orphans. word has gotten out and donations have been given from many different countries to help the orphaned and abandoned children. they now have adequate security and also been able to purchase beds for the children.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

maybe a soul lives off of hope

we emphasize hope.

HOPE.

a living hope.

we will love life
and see salvation of our souls.

love
with a pure heart
we can live with hope.

hope we have in our hearts
we know love.

Friday, May 27, 2011

the journal, the journey

waiting...
story

i was disappointed
lonely
i was disappointed
pissed off
who's there?

terribly lonely

constant pain
problem
i once ignored people in pain

everything is very painful alone

answers
anxiety
silence
the answer is no better

issues
abuse
tough
follow the evidence

struggling
suffer
struggling
stressors
suffer
for anyone who is concerned

the storm descended
extra weight
break
tender leaf killed

cutting
watch the impact
cut more

emphasis on the impact
possibility
purusing
cost of pursuing
possibility

i could see through the facade
disappointment surrounded by promises

can i judge them?
i don't know.

holding out alone
commmunication never happens at random

talks started efforts to turn around

a lot have gone through a similar thing

finally had a winning mistake
it takes time
don't discourage

radical solution to long developing problems
drastic change

friendships have a result
people

trust has been a battle.
live.

attempt to win battles.
denied
battle back
victory

fighting not as easy
possible to live

trying to heal the pain
the shared universe of sorrow

confronting the pain
hope
hope is real
can i have one more hug?

protected
innocent and unnoticed

genuine heartbreak
personal

breaking point
identity
you are under the surface

redeem innocence

live
be bold
love

focused on recovery
part of something more

saved her
hope
not alone
recovery

original
beautiful
be surprised

we decided together to show people the beginning.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

a note on blogs 12 and 12.5

both of these poems were taken from an article in rolling stone magazine. the article featured to write love on her arms. it is a non-profit movement that works to provide a path to help and recovery for people who struggle with depression, addiction, eating disorders, self-injury and suicide.

it began as an attempt to help a friend who was in trouble and needed people who would simply love her. t-shirts were made with "to write love on her arms" and sold to raise money to help her pay for rehab. they soon found out that these issues resonated with thousands of people and it grew into a movement.

if you want to find out a little more (as i'm sure i've hardly managed to explain this well enough) go to their website. this is the story that began it all. and this is their statement. though i recommend check it all out.

12.5 never give up

he listens
empathy
feel the love
honesty
feel truly valued

whispers
kill yourself?
he saved her life

community of hope
her story being alive
you are not alone
a self-taught savior prayed a lot
easy to be around
to talk to

friend killed himself
deal with the news
hadn't seen it coming
coincidences add up
callings
quietly wrestling
stuff happened

revealed himself flawed, struggling
isn't afraid to be seen
written all over him
live like that
to be bold
vulnerabilities freshly unchained
fueled by the power of faith

ceaseless empathy is exhausting
there are failures

she was alone
wanted to die
needed help
security
straightened out again
again

real recovery
relapses, pitfalls
changing

to pursue
to write
help
to create
live
to go
love with patience and plan


i was really hurting
i was living lonely
confesses
realized his own pain
is greater than he thought
love
smile
a small failure

life must be awesome
i want life

12 to write love on her arms

the story really inspired
the world can be a better place
grace and an old friend
rehab
hoping

struggling
with depression and addictions
and self-injury and suicidal urges

we exist
we exist
create hope?
honest conversation
hope
desperate need
connection
love helped me so much
speaking, reaching out
trying to heal the pain by getting as close to it as possible

key to reaching is authenticity
cult of hope
talking of love and forgiveness
shared universe of sorrow

love hears some shit
abuse, neglect, raped, drug addicted
children hanging in closets
wish they were dead
self-injury and depression, always suffered
cutting herself
confronting this pain alone
jaded mental health veterans
weakening suicide prevention

conversation
more
help
thanks
hug burst into sobs
it made me cry
eye contact

hope is real


can i have one more hug?