psûché

Art & body.

STARE.

I dealt with depression. I let it fuel my mind until I threw it away. & all that's left is creativity.

The people who succeed with God are those who listen for His response.

Experience difference. Sleep on the pavement. Let the wind touch your naked body. Shower with all your clothes on. Have a meal in the middle of a highway. Make a "stone" angel in a pile of time rocks. Decorate yourself.

Nature meet art. You're one in the same.

I like mess Art is mess Mess is an expression of you completely unscathed

2 a.m isn't late. 2 p.m is when you realized you haven't slept.

I don't tell stories I tell emotions

No one else has them quite like you do...

I could write about sad but that's too easy. The feelings are right there in your pain. I will write about joy because people look for it right in front of their faces..when it's actually in their fingertips.

heaven will be peace singing in my ears. joy spilling out my mouth. fear seeping out of my pores. & I won't even have a body.

p u r p l e. 🎆

i finally found out what's wrong with me. I AM CRAZY. I AM NUTS. but no one else has my mind & can create art like I do. So I will give & purge & pour until I've hit the point of normal. When I do, spill all the paints on me until the color soaks my soul.

Love is not constricted to solely touch & kind tones. Love is seeking each other in the dark & the light. Crazy is not bound to hospital restraints. Crazy is the ability to know who created the world. Pain doesn't clutch only one person selfishly. Pain is a domino epidemic. Joy isn't synonymous with happy. Joy is knowing there's bad but not letting it control you.

I’m okay with my scars. Jesus had scars too. His told a story. So do mine. When people ask about it I’ll tell them how my scars match up to His. You can trace my skin and it becomes a bridge to His hands.

secrets make you sick.