Itching

Old Post: I’ve had an itching to get away. Like an anthill in my body being overrun by something bigger than themselves. Interrupting their smooth flowing river-like lines. Caught in a frenzy and biting at any possible threat. I’m itching in a straight jacket. I need to go.
Anything…
Anywhere…
but here.

Day 1: Make something that fits into the palm of your hand

Old Post: Here it is. Another project. The goal is to write something every day. Whether it be a poem, song, sentence or even just a single word. It can be meaningful, silly, angry, heartbreaking, or even nonsensical.
The hardest thing is accepting it. To keep telling myself that not everything I write is going to be brilliant or beautiful. Some days will be harder than others, but that’s okay. Being perfect is not the point.
I’m not posting this publically for praise or criticism. I’m posting it publically for support. Support to get me through the times when I just want to give up. I make projects to make me feel motivated. Even when I write something shitty, I am bettering myself.
Anyway, here is to day one.
“Make something that fits into the palm of your hand”
Here is what I wrote being as it’s hard to read:
When you hold something in your hand
You carry a sense of power, ownership
You are in control
But you can only hold so much
Eventually, you have to let go
Make room for the next thing
So now in this moment
Tell me… what’s in your hand?

Day 2: Use Your Favourite Animal as Inspiration

Old Post:
I don’t know if I have a favourite animal. I can’t decide. I was so certain when I was a child that it was a horse. Then I grew a deep affection for leopards. Then in my teenage years, I decided that I really loved lions. Then I decided that I really admire foxes. Then gazelles. So on and so forth. I’m extremely fickle. I just love animals, really. So for today’s inspiration, I thought of all the things that made me admire a certain animal. What were the common traits? How have they affected me?

and then…

Dear divine beast on the hill
with your chest pressed out and your head held high
Your eyes closed as the wind blows through your soft flowing fabrics
As if every gentle breeze is a secret sent by the trees
Secret stories of love, woe, and hope
and you listen
You listen as you stand strong
Your sturdy limbs so stable as if rooted to the soil and tangled in the grass
Whenever your eyes stare, the world draws in
The earth sucked beneath your lids like a vacuum
And not just things we ignorant beings acknowledge and name
Not the things we can touch, see, hear, or feel
But the things we dream
The things we often forget in the morning
The things we release the moment we open our eyes
You pick them up
And you hold on
And you wait, listening
Until we find you again
And you look into our eyes
And pull us in

Day 4: Take a Five Minute Walk

Old Post:

I wrote this in my phone yesterday after walking for a bit at Pride.

I wave my freak flag high
take that as you will
but I will shout to the goats on the mountaintops
I will lift my arms to graze the rain clouds
I will sing my freakish songs as foreign as they may be
and I will lift my head to the sky
And even upon my knees
My flag soars with the wind of my honour
for the freak within me

Day 5: Work With a Collection of Objects

Old Post

I guess you could say that I collect masks. I just love them. People get them for me. It was never an intentional collection… but it did eventually turn into one.
What’s in a face?
You look at a face in all it’s entirety and there is so much to see
A face can tell you how someone feels
The definitions can tell you the history in a person, their age and story
You can tell secrets to distant people using just your face
Smell, touch, sight, and taste… all in one’s face!
Chins: something to grab onto and rest on things
Cheeks: something to also grab onto. Something to kiss. Or even hide your food in!
The mouth: eating, biting, talking, singing, kissing, laughing, screaming, licking, spitting, smiling… especially smiling.
The nose: something to smell… whether pleasant or not. Also something to nuzzle the things you love most. And that’s a good feeling.
The eyes: one of the most expressive features. Also one of the most vibrant in colour. Some people believe that they are gateways to people’s souls and inner beings and that’s a powerful thing.
Foreheads: another darling place to kiss. Somewhere to hit when you’re feeling a little derpy. A place where only mothers have the power to cure anything. Also a great drawing place for pranksters.

One of the most magical places on the outer human body… all in the face.

Day 6: Work With the First Fruit or Vegetable You Find

Old post:
I’m never at my house so it’s a waste to buy any kind of fresh produce unfortunately. But I always have jam. I have this delicious strawberry jam from a shack off of the road. It’s one of the best jams ever. Strawberries of course make me think of hearts and…

My name is Evelyn Leech McFar

I keep my heart in an old glass jar
It sits quaintly upon my window pane
Where it can breath in the sun and watch the rain
At late hours of the night, I would hear the beat
Thump… Thump…Like an old metronome ticking lullabies as I sleep
I dream of Giants trudging along desert lands
I dream of playing the drums in a band
I wake to a new day feeling alive
These energizing thumps are all I need to survive
Then one day in the beginning of spring
I housed a young maiden with which she did bring
A jar of singing crickets and firefly sparks
That she charmingly places right next to my heart
We danced to the tiny violins and beating of drums
From the jars by the window that sparkled and hummed
That night we dreamt of flying through waterfall mist
That night we dreamt of laughter, songs, and bliss
In the morning, she left with her jar and all
I then slept all through summer and into the fall
My heart seemed to stumble, hiccup, and choke
Like an old metronome, rusted, and broke
I dreamt of being trampled by giant man toes
I dreamt of being booed off the stage at a show
I woke up feeling drowsy and a mess
As much as I hate to, I have to confess
My heart had become addicted to crickets and light
Without them, it just can’t seem to beat quite right
So I write this letter in a bottle today
I’ll sail it on the ocean and hope and pray
Dear goddess of the spring, dance and song
This is where you and your jar belong

There are some days...

Old post

I love all of my darling people in my life and my environment, but some days I just want to leave every single person behind me without even blinking. Crumple up a piece of paper full of art and poetry and throw it over my shoulder. Let it roll down my back and my ankle kick it as I walk in the other direction. Start fresh and anew. But I know later in life I will want to grab that crumpled piece of paper and try to iron it back out. It is beautiful after all. So here I stay. And tomorrow I will wake and thank god I did so.
But there will always be those days…