Katya Grokhovsky, Artist Journals, 2008/9The breadth, the breath of the human stuffy warmth,
stretching lovingly beyond your own means
laying out the large, roughly scratched, leathery hands
hot to the touch they sway and lower you to the ground
up again
pushing tight, cursing roughly, imagining:
eating dirt, consuming spirits, wanting more: being so much less
spotting pretty hard, agonizing over the details of the damned table setting
forwarding painfully aware memories
many more unreliable wishes:
to be adored: to love
to start and manage
RIP 2010
pastel lavender desire, frosting on your cupcakes
I am wishing hopelessly
wondering
orange cat
lazy winter LA sun
pink flannel
nothing beats you
blood or rain
fast winds of thought
accumulating into whirling pools beside your feet
free falling and acrobatic challenges in my head
heart in first and foremost later
don't you forget this
I am your true only one: blue and borrowed
forgiving now and escaping,
the universe tells you to jump off the bridge:
glad to help you
hmm..
what
testing and preparing for flying
skimp up stream
flow
gather strength
shoot the loads
homage to dead women
I form into a puddle of rubbery texture
when I'm dead , I'll meet you inside the sticky cherry jam darkness, homemade
Pina Bausch
Frida Kahlo
Artemisia Gentileschi
Louise Bourgeois
Eva Hesse
Marilyn Monroe
Iris Murdoch
Virginia Woolf
Sylvia Plath
Emily Dickinson
Audrey Hepburn
Georgia O'Keefe
Hannah Hoch
Meret Oppenheim
Chanel
Catherine the Great
Camille Claudel
Jane Austen
George Sand
Edith Piaf
Madame Vionnet
Isadora Duncan
Bronte Sisters
Anna Akhmatova
Natalya Goncharova
Black prune waves, emerald green velvet traps, pomegranate wine, sucked in
plums and peaches, that was quite a traumatic reading of your palm
plus size models, marching on your street today
meaty, fleshed out, volume up, voluptuous growth: trembling
softening your resolve
squeezing, fuming, grazing: greetings
smashing cliches, fluffing egos,
creeps and line up your freaks
fake lawns and butterflies: badly made ideas floating in your wine glass
she looked around and imagined softer light. this room needs orange curtains and a vase. yes, a vase, the vase has to be green. perhaps bright green, perhaps even neon green. perhaps grass color. perhaps even a bottle. those poor flowers need to be in a green vase, in fresh water, on that table, near the entrance to the dining room. she suddenly got up from her favorite yellow faded velvet armchair and walked out of the door. lifted her skirt up. she quickly bent down and looked at her crotch. well definitely no underwear. she had no underwear on. she looked up. just neatly arranged well manicured houses in front of her. she kept holding her dress up. her white cotton skirt had blue polka dots splattered on it. her neck was covered in bed bugs' bites. she kept smiling. Los Angeles.
welcome
ornamental pursuit of excitement and anguish: salutation and disease.
I don't want you.
I just didn't think I wanted you.
perhaps I do want you one day, one day perhaps I will
Perhaps I should give you up:
I am brutally honest.
Meat.
describe: bloody raw. meat between your teeth. rotting , vicious flesh.
what the hell is love.
perhaps: unreliable and messy.
unaccomplished and real.
vile. for the sake of the mess.
undying and scrutinizing you: every inch of you
there is a pimple there is a freckle there is a nail sparkling dust in your stupid fake Disney sky
And so That was the Year
The tough skin became scales
green blue
the lovers, aside, pushed away
achievements
2011.
ready. set. welcome:
