self portrait #13

self portrait # 13

i am i and no one else.
i am the sum of atoms and
a sum of seconds. i cannot
transfer completely to someone else.

i string words with care
and pisceanly realize that
things can be communicated in
other more complete ways.

i have depth of beauty in form and ideas.
i am not a highheelstitbitch.
i wear flats among dandelions
and sometimes that is all.

art saves me from science. and
science saves me from art.

i have all the right potentials.
i just need an equal to
close circles in me.


JANEisnotplain 12.26.08

for the want ad project

mathematics

mathematics


mathematics is considered a dry discipline
depleted of life. devoid of emotion.
alive in weird scientific minds.
guarded by chaos.

mathematics is a higher order
of clarity and holy reference
a swirl of countable channels
for primitive line segments to
manifest in didactic series
of misguided well intentioned
left-handed-ness.

but mathematics really is a
beautiful means of calculating
abstract concepts infinite-ly
intense non-sense on the
relationship binding slope
of tangent line to the area
below the curve to the unseen
notion of sums overflowing
with wanting.

mathematics is simply beautifully complex


JANEisnotplain 12.8.08

November 4, 2008

November 4, 2008

obama. hopefulness. past present future. a humbling beginning. emotional light-headedness. a tingling reality. mania. vibrance, resonance, reciprocity. the un-calm of a generation. limitless.

JANEisnotplain 11.08

"BLACK AND WHITE"

this project explores the idea of color and the emotions that colors evoke. combining the theory of chromotherapy and text, this project is intended to push the audiences boundaries and comfort zones utilizing only two very minimal colors.

please share


JANEisnotplain october08




"BLACK & WHITE"

VALEDICTION

Valediction

dear r:

there are mornings i dive deep beneath my consciousness
and hammer until solid at things that i will say when
i catch you unguarded and surrendering to my presence
[ as i surrendered to you].

hypothetically, this moment is ours
but if i approach you from inside
[as you approached me]
with my hands around your neck
[as yours were around mine]
and lean in to allow the light to reflect from
my eyes will reflect in yours.
cheek bones in slow contact,
brushing you with trepidation
[“so close, but how?”]

valediction.

i have nothing to say.
i have only to remind you
that you were never up to me.


copyright JANEisnotplain 10.08

gut rehab

gut rehab



this moment was coming.

tearing everything in half
was necessary. [love] things spilled
onto the floor. marbles fell and
scattered, rolling out of the door.

the pots and pans clanged,
papers shuffled, years built
collapsed.

i tried to super glue, nail,
hammer, cement and screw.

i will sandpaper, shim,
and paint until nothing
original is recognizable
anymore.


copyright JANEisnotplain 9.08

on trying to live after R.

Reflections

Reflections

i am trying to understand how your heart operates. it is a remarkable machine, hurriedly competing over scarce resources, including, but not limited to, love by way of lust.

you are devoid of power, devoid of control, snatching it wherever you find it unguarded. and this stands as a barrier to your ability to participate in love.

you live life with a suspect heart that is manifested in a dramaturgic analysis of love within love.

and you can come, and come, and come to the same conclusions as i:

this is no longer [about] love.
this is not [about] humanity.

this is anthropology.
this is science.

the solution to your love[less] life is:

a redemption of the infrastructure of your heart as it is operating from finite resources, including but not limited to physically and emotionally violent men.

it is volcanic, an eruption for disaster.
it has turned your heart blue, then olive, gray, orange, then cold, steel.

my obsession with your machination proved to be detrimental to my survival, you see. i found little truth on which to live in your mechanical metal heart and so died. but not before seeing a reflection in the mirror of its hardened walls.

yes. you, and i, we were real. but my time as your tortured heart has become exhausted, outmoded.

and as you read the cold disconnect of my words, i am sure that you feel me in a way that you never felt me before. you won’t feel me again.

copyright JANEisnotplain 9.08

self portrait #15: post r

self portrait #15: post r

vital signs


pulse: irregular; uneven

pressure: heavy ; onerous

respirations: shallow; choking

saturation: depleted; empty

temperature: hot; cold



physical exam

head: unclear; with evidence of trauma

eyes: crying; unfocused

heart: bruised; some parts absent

lungs: black; unclean

abdomen: ulcerated; raw

extremities: amputated; immobile

neurologic: short circuited


assessment/impression

septic

decaying

dying

copyright JANEisnotplain 9.08

CUT

cut

my eyes are red from the inside out from the way my brain is crying
they are lodged like a smoke clogged traffic jam in my throat
i can feel the poison, invisible as it is, creep into my lungs
a cold monoxide of frozen blue/black preying on the warmth of heart

i wish i could cremate my heart and jump start it with the fuel of ashes
blow the black flakes everywhere and make it snow with fire

i want to escape these veins, these millions of capillaries which
soak my essence like a sponge, a vampire of foaming hexagons that
hold hostage my blood, the compassion that is my greatest pain

i want it out, this feel[th]ing someone has left in me
maybe just another sigh, another cough just to
blow my soul out like a forest through the eye of a needle

i am distracted throughout the day
i keep forgetting that i am supposed to talk, walk
and let the electricity run courses through my circuits
turn off, turn around, or turn the corner

i only wanted to fill my spaces with birds and trees,
flowers and butterflies that would sing me lullabies
and cradle me like the only baby doll in the world

instead i am coming close to roaming where the
periods mingle with the question marks

she cut me.
how could she?
how could she cut me?
out.

copyright JANEisnotplain 8.28.08

on the end of what i thought was true.

dear r: 8.16.08

8.16.08


dear r:

it was just the two of us
our sex and our despair
all day (accompanied by
a few other pleasures, sins).

photographs and shots, just
bits of pretending to be okay
for moments at a time.

there was dancing and singing
there was food and music but
mostly, there were lots of things
under the surface that cannot
be explained or simplified
under the influence of anything
more than a certain pain that
mostly goes unspoken because
words are just too simple.

JANEisnotplain 8.16.08

on not making love, i know its over.

monophyletic evolution

love + natural selection = evolution




life. domain. kingdom.
phylum. class. order.


p2 + 2 p q + q2 = 1


family. genus. species.
hybrid. variety. Aberration.




JANEisnotplain 7.08

where p is the frequency of dominant
where q is the frequency of recessive

self portrait # 18

self portrait # 18




how do [we]/i define [our] my
SELF?


[ i .] as a perversion of sub-consciousness


[ii.] as an abstract discovery of continuity implicitly plicate with complexity


[iii.] as a metamorphosis forthcoming







JANEisnotplain 6.21.08

self portrait #17

self portrait #17



i don’t consider [my] Self
to be [any] Thing or Person
in partic[u]le [ar] other than
[my]Self




yet here i am in my
physical reality relying
on this existence of
all matter in order to
continue to matter
no matter the person
or partic[u]le [ar]
[con] sequence
my matter will never
be destroyed but rather
assimilated into infinite
energy embraced by
matter [less] external consciousness




i am
where time and space are
just monitors of infinity
[no] Thing[s] exists singly
but as particles of
awareness and [Be]ing that
transcends making [Be]lieve






in [my] Self





JANEisnotplain 6.08

ohm's law

ohm’s law



I = V/R

current, flow, tide, now , existing, present, [oc]curence= voltage, potential energy, conceiveable ability, aptitude, excitement, possiblity/ resistance, opposition, reluctance, antipathy, antagonism


P = V * I

power, influence, force, authority, passion, pleasure, love, will = voltage, potential energy, conceivable, ability, aptitude, excitement, possibility * current, flow, tide, now, existing, present,[oc]currence



JANEisnotplain 5.08

music & poetry

music and poetry


sometimes music is like hard poetry
obscure, obfuscating, obsidian
[un]familiar sounds composing

it sounds like god more
than like anything real

dante did not inspire me
but mahler chases dante
down the rabbit hole
like a slipping fugitive
running
tripping
shrieking
pursued by a maniacal
swarm of flutes and
one first violin
a devilish tritone
that pulls at your
heart explodes to
escape their chests
and lose the pulsing blast
of trombone on skin
low brass battling

sometimes poetry is like difficult music
straightened up with lofty analysis
adagietto, rondo, fugue

a symphonic poem of
harmonic tape
euphoric gauze
two bright cymbals
suspending in a paradise
the artist can
sometimes almost understand

sometimes music and poetry
are like [in] love


JANEisnotplain 5.10.08

dear r 5.3.08

5.3.08

dear r,

i imagine escaping like this
with laughter sealed in the hollow of your collar bone
and fingers on the friction slope of your lips
cursive kept under your tongue like a love letter

i want a rush of consonants and vowels
and footsteps i cant retrace

but instead i have
notebooks to balance with percentages
schedules to show up for on time
miles to cover without a breath
things to stumble under

i smile
i talk effervescence
but i still cant find enough cotton
to fill this small hole
which whistles with sadness when i exhale

i don’t remember how to live without you
but i am, i am, i am


JANEisnotplain 5.08



r's response

dear e,

i've imagined escaping like this
with laughter echoing through empty halls
and fingers on instruments that no one hears
my tongue moving with every solitary song

i want a rush of ideas and dreams
recorded to visit again and again

and now i have
schedules to show up for on time
routines to settle into
fresh air to breathe
balconies to relax on

i smile
i sing effervescence
i weave the rainbow of my dreams
around my aching heart
to heal the lonely spaces

i still live within you
and you are in me, in me, in me

photo by brian wiles

self portrait # 16

self portrait # 16

dear editor:

please accept this submission
not because [i]t is good but
because i am afraid of not being what they predicted
because i am a sparrow trying to fit in amongst lions
because i am more of a semi-colon than a period
because my poems are blown more like opaque glass than broken pearls
because i am a finger-painting they have created
because last night velazquez spoke to me in the present progressive
and told me to patch the roof with risk and intention
please accept this submission because
god help me, i have tried




JANEisnotplain 5.08

dear r: run ons

dear r,


quietly and unremarkably love you, i
practice being where i am if i invent
you i already learned a way to recollect
the major moments of happiness, the minor
tree branch, the live wings changing
how our lawn poses statu[e]s of collective
nouns imposed thus far without such various
coordinating conjunctions are not equal
to the task is being, knowing and
valuing whole this is here, so this
embedded presence defines present tense
as real and legitimate with and
without each other
one of us


JANEisnotplain 4.08


after one full month apart

untitled letter

dear –

you think you’ve pinned me.
but you haven’t. you haven’t at all.
perhaps i could do with fewer masks
but you could do with a closer, less judgmental look




copyright JANEisnotplain 4.08

4 am insomnia

4 am insomnia




the cherry of my cigarette
lies bright like a piece of soul
under the sky that is an ocean
just waiting to fall

the clouds roll lazily by
briefly blanketing the stars
smeared across the sky
like divine fingerprints

this night is cotton swabs
on lives left behind
chapters as yet unfinished in
books as yet to be written

how long it has been
since i paid attention
to the images my eyes
are shyly showing my mind

there s a space for me
in the lining of the sky
its just waiting for the day –
light

copyright JANEisnotplain 4.08



after awakening from the usual nightmare

F = ma*

F = ma*


the lines of light follow the
destination of coveted importance
reliance on the slimming derivatives
of newton’s escapism is so
far beyond cognition that
it may in fact be light years
away from chemical bound sanity
such that if nirvana came in a pill form
the reality of abnormalities
would in fact be infinite

*where F is force, m is mass and a is acceleration

copyright JANEisnotplain 4.2o.08

4.20.08 untitled.

4.20.08 untitled.

there is a difference
amid the blues and greys
the blues and reds
the black[s] and white[s]
in the yellows of day but
its difficult still
to find the ephemeral dissident
in my temporary but hopeful
abs[tin]ence

copyright JANEisnotplain 4.08

--from the 0330am revelations notebook

the church

the church

denial
hypocrisy
fetishism
narcissism
intolerance
dissociation
mental passivity
self indulgent
spreading of guilt
the denial of the body
hate for the tangible world
psychotic celebration of fabricated realms
the hypertrophy of the disembodied mind
the regimentation of free thinking under the dogma of truth
the brothels of spirit
the church

JANEisnotplain

reflected: dear e

reflected:

dear e,


we didn’t look the same after medical school.
you looked like hell. and i looked like haggard.

pieces cut and sutured from our anatomic
-ally philosophical hearts stapled to the wall in surgery rm. 8.

all the on-call shifts. and oh. all the sterile hands. i used
to look like beauty in the back seat of your.

you used to resemble a promise
passed between lips in an exchange.

and there was a time. when it was something
i believed in dry runs and secrets and all the kisses.

and all the never tells. but not now.
time for work.

as always.

copyright JANEisnotplain 12/06

on not making it to the alter with e.

about

about ….

she was always the one to
smile and softly say forever

but instead they became
typewriter keys too stiff to press
and ripped bands of black cartridges

she’s distanced her eyelashes from his cheek
but he’s still staring through her stained glass
words broken, transparent, colored

if her body was a wire she would strangle
but for the inability to wrap
her fingers around his

if she were comatose
she wouldn’t leave him like this

she doesn’t want to escape him
not really, i don’t think so

instead, she runs
and he’ll just refuse to leave




JANEisnotplain .05
completed 2.08

about k and r

to do list

to do list:

• study studies on the results of previous studies
• realize our potential potential
• stake out claims on the future
• worry about what to worry about
• democratize the USA
• demilitarize outer space
• welcome latino immigrants at the border
• bomb our way to an “endurable” peace
• change course
• move the party to a more radical center
• spread plutocracy
• recognize our deepest wants, needs, wishes
• free the slaves
• find time to clean the house

JANEisnotplain 2.08

linear circles

linear circles


in space substance is moving
this produces the illusion of error of time
moving substance is absolute relativity
where substance and movement are the same
seeing and hearing and light and sound
is linear and circular and every line is
is just the diameter of some circle


JANEisnotplain 2.08

space

space


she’s obsessed with the
concept of space and
what not enough
of it can do
to a person and i

i see the space between
shared syllables but we
can exist simultaneously
on the same plane

i am learning to re-wire
my nature with hers and
i’ve got strong hands
built entirely of ink that
hold a guarded heart

while clouds and colors
separate in the sky i wait

montreal 2/17/08, she asks for privacy while vocalizing

JANEisnotplain

WHAT
CANIDOO
RSAYTOMAK
ETH ESVISIONS
GOAW AYCLOSEMYEY
ESBUTI CANSTILLH
EARYOU SA YIT




JANEisnotplain 2.08

infinite illusion



(is)
the basis for all measurement = relativity

(and) (is)

energy + mass = absolute relativity

(is)
absolute relativity = a relative moment

(is) (and)
a relative moment = time + space

(and) (and)
time + space = form + substance

(and) (is) (reality)
form + substance = a relative illusion

we can imagine and believe that
these equations answer all of our questions
why and how, when and where
even what but,

there is no objective reality
it has been completely, discretely displaced
by many layers of deception
that is nothing more than misconception
or in reality, an infinite illusion




JANEisnotplain 1.08

dear r: equations

dear r:


who am I?
x = y

you are me
x2 = xy

you are a part of each of us
x2- y2 = xy – y2

we are less without each other
(x-y)(x+y) = y(x-y)

but, are we not each separate?
x + y = y ?

if you look beyond, we are actually the same
2y = y

and you will see who I am
2 = 1





love,

JANEisnotplain 1.05.08