sunrise

sunrise

safer than depth, an untouched morning

glances into quiet azure space actively

passively formed from pristine edges.

subject lines align with flower cusps

pregnant with the last night’s dew[y]

composure of young daylight.

a rinsed creed lifts projected daylight

onto a crowd of actors from a prior play;

an unnatural selection gathering fiction.

the tripod lasts beyond the photograph

but in the lens you can hear my memory

gaze, surrender and frame the sunrise.

JANEisnotplain 10.30.10
after Q Studios Halloween

FALL

fall lies within the final sentence of the year’s paragraph

like the smoldering ash of a semicolon, or the flick of a pen.

one leaf in the mounds of leaves burns by the roadside like

the many letters of a lost lover, set ablaze by a waning sun.

if winter is the season of solitude then fall must therefore be

the lonliness that precedes it as in a season of proper longing,

wind blown confessions, silent penance and spring’s regrets.

fall is but punctuation in a beautifully tragic form as its days

grow shorter and collars instinctively turn themselves up toward

the brilliance of an orange sky abandoned now by sun sweetened

kisses and warm embraces.

the charred remains of summer with its forgotten words and

guilty pleasures turn now like colors. now shifting,now drifting,

now depleting themselves of affection until reaching the crisp

translucency of winter.

JANEisnotplain 10.17.10

THEORY #2...inprogress

dear unexpected:

dear unexpected lover:

good morning beautiful. would you hold my hand?
spin me around on an emotional rollercoaster? drag
my face into the pavement, let my body swing into
anything and everything. break my bones and squeeze
me. twist and turn the way your emotions do. make
me scared. make me cry. you fucking bitch. then
leave me. nauseated. the ride is over. the ride is over.
oh thank god. this fucking ride is over.

do you wanna go again?

love,                                          JANEisnotplain 6.10

unlocking JANE

unlocking Jane

lately the words in my head

have been very loud. banging

sometimes without any rhythm.

sometimes to my pulse, my

lust. but i am all in my [head].

my words are constantly chattering.

often they awaken me to my Self

having a heated conversation with

Self answering my own questions

about colors, conundrums, and the

uselessness of  sentence structure.

individually they are each only

words. tiny, miniscule capsules

of expressions that i re-use, re-

think, re-cycle, re-call, re-order,

into thoughts, breaths, and ideas.

compressed into columns  and

constructs on notion bound pages.

they want to build new stories,

these words. they come at me.

all with hidden agendas, thoughts,

wants,and needs. they are tortured,

enunciated, played out, stacked up

but still trying most desperately to

conjugate a new sentence or to

complete a smile.

i use words. not legs to seduce.  hard

bound shapely words like [anticipation].

to expose doors and open windows wide

to confess that this is what i want is my

words to make you feel my thoughts my

touch. i am more than black ink on white

paper.

i carry my words close as if i may

need them any moment, day ,hour,

minute, second, if we all fall down.

and i draw the delusional curtains and

sing private lullabies under the guise of

infinite and the definition of  struggle.

i hope no one notices that. i am these

words. raw. chaotic. complex. kinetic.

superfluous. scribbled. even beautiful.

sometimes running on from  sentences

and metaphors. slight in frame. distorted

in look they pour out undefined. unlabled.


JANEisnotplain 5.15.10 

happy birthday: for maria

happy birthday



another year closes on the world
like an hour, like a second and
something momentous WILL occur
with the stroke of the hour hand
like reaching the pinnacle of
a sand dune in the sahara
or….



For maria andersson on her 28th birthday
8.14.08

gardening

gardening

down on one knee i

pull up handfuls of

wet grass.   i push

it and squeeze it be

-tween my fingers

in the hope that a

surprise will emerge

perhaps a secret from

a colorful cosmos now

buried deep beneath

my feet pleading to be

set free to find the sun-

shine and the spring

down on one knee i

am telling myself that

it’s a rather slippery

slope this searching

sort of thing but i dig

on through the winter

scars toward a fragile

newness.

JANEisnotplain  4.10.10

self portrait # 37: perspective

 

photo also JANEisnotplain

this is what it is like to be alone.

squinting fingers hang on near ledges

uncertainty stares up at me like old times

nothing whispers over fallen shoulders

i feel liberated and possible.

JANEisnotplain 2.15.10

1500 1.31.10 60608

lists

lists

i keep a laundry list

of things to be done

before i am the person

that i want to be.

things like eat less,

drink more water,

become a vegetarian,

pay my taxes on time,

donate a pint of blood,

finish the crossword,

cure [stupidity] cancer

write something profound.

i wonder if you

can tell that i am

working on myself

but not for you?

i keep a laundry list

of things most people

worry about but with

only a few things

crossed off.

when i reach the bottom

i will have only one

more task to fulfill.

leave.

JANEisnotplain 1.10

snowflakes

snowflakes


there are snowflakes as big as my heart and
they catch as globs in angry jealous winds
naked souls dancing through tree tops quivering
frozen in soft kisses around cold little feet
currently vulnerable waiting for warm hands
to defrost my fragile chest gently sneaking
through my window there is beauty. there is
wonder. there is faith. there are snowflakes.

JANEisnotplain

1.2.10 am

driving insanity until dawn

0745am 2010: driving insanity until dawn

i am at a borderline.// my personality meets me halfway.// but i am still Myself.//

i am at that /place where thoughts grow/ragged/and bending light/shifts through

words creating spaces.//

if i were to leave this space.// if i were to disappear into .//  broken atmospheres/

of the past/ of the future/ of the present/ crossing.// between/blurred boundaries

and textured contours?//

space is an illusion of/ depth and movement.// and my left foot is racing my right.// in horizontal timed rhymes/but i am still Myself.// standing with this disorder/ in order.//

i am an intersection/of zeros and ones/ at a border a/ cross between/ my life lines and sky lines.// but i am still Myself.//i am driving insanity/ toward the sunrise.//  released.//

JANEisnotplain

begun on 12/28/09, finished 1/1/10 at 0745am on carroll st.

BWiles Photography: Artist Bio

Brian Wiles is a photographer whose work brings that which is not readily visible, to the surface.  His camera is the lens with which he investigates the effects of light and line on an otherwise ordinary landscape. Rather than simply record his environment, Brian interprets it by crafting a unique interface with the viewer through his mastery of composition and perspective.  His technique incorporates the very definition of light as the essential condition of vision. The result is a beautifully unexpected palate of texture and rhythm intimately framed in an innovative perception that invites the viewer to actively participate and appreciate.

Brian’s work has been featured in …

for an upcoming west town gallery showing

JANEisnotplain 12/09

revelation at 0400am

revelation

4am or one hour before the
beginning of the end of time
and i feel a sad dream falling
slowly through dimly lit trees like
petals of white papers with black
words touching innocent sheets
on the line in the shadows between
truth and deception, good and bad
melting into an aged rain that
bathes the grass at dawn with
the spit of shallow weeds and
medicated repetition as the
so[u]l[e]s of my shoes become the
legs of my jeans and the day/i
surface[s] gasping for air and light

5am another inch of time creeps out
of fragments of broken monuments to
step forward into fragile enlightenment
trembling under fresh green skies
orange horizons fall eternally backward
into silver ribbons of sun awake

6am sweep the patio clean,
lie to the earth, swallow the spaces
stop chasing citrus thoughts with
bittersweet aftertastes and just
gather up all the blue lemons,
add happiness, stir, and
make some lemonade.

copyright JANEisnotplain 7.09

---from the 0330am series

abstract

abstract

hotel room. i am lying. on the bed.
my brain. connections sparking in
my eyes. a black berry stain. on a
white dress. altered. a butterfly in-
side a glass bottle. transparent.con-
tain[t]ed. chaos is beautiful.like the
strings on a cello.floating face down.
black cat. green skeletons. blue air.
fog. rain. sunshine.twice. the sunshine.

JANEisnotplain 0325am 5.8.09

expose

expose

to bare
to confess
to disclose
to divulge
to exhibit
to lay open
to make known
to present
to reveal
to show
to view
to unveil
to unmask
to uncover

there is implied danger and vulnerability in exposure
yet, there is a certain freedom in choosing exposure

JANEisnotplain 4.18.09

self portrait #25: artist

self portrait #25 : artist


as an artist, i live,
by necessity, on
slim hope and/or
fickle inspiration
so luckless paths
are no stranger to
me. when i discover
my partner is dead
i just go on alone.


JANEisnotplain 4.13.09

in reference to the current state of medicine.

de-fragmented

de-fragmented


the keyboard is unfeeling and
the words are darwinian evolutions
perhaps even freudian re-volutions

there is only the exit and the clock
the monitor no longer sees or saves

self

i am
this file
is un-solvable
or should that be salvageable?

up-grades, up-dates, down-loads
automate, populate, disseminate

my mind ticks and clicks
while it waits for its reboot


JANEisnotplain 4.09

insomniac writings at 0323am

self portrait # 21 : free time

self portrait # 21 : free time


my soul is made of tissue paper and words that
i have dreamed of capturing on paper to set me

free

i am a thousand faces in a crowded street
following in footsteps that have not yet been made
i reach for trees from porch steps to feel their glow
sink into my rhythm and imbibe their colors
i inhale the soft ocean and exhale hues and shades
i like to watch the sky connect the clouds of mind
dancing in doorways connecting joy and discord
i fall inside/outside the patterns of repetitious heartbeats
singing an echo of an ever changing life-

time

JANEisnotplain 3.27.09

completed while enjoying the ocean in miami

self portrait #35: thirty-five

self portrait # 35 : thirty five


each new year is
crowding out the last.

soon, i’ll be alone in
a room full of selves
i have never met.


JANEisnotplain 3.19.09

happy birthday