some things i haven't been ready to say until now

1. We should have been together from the start.

2. I'm no longer hurt by her birdie photos and her incessant mouthings of the l-word

3. After seeing her again, I've realized she isn't hurt either.

4. For a time I thought I needed what has since left me, but now I know I am going to be okay, because:

i) like every spring we rekindle only this time permanence feels seemingly plausible

ii) i said we were bad for eachother but what i really meant is i'm bad for you too

iii) i said i was bad for you too but what i really meant was that we aren't bad for eachother, and i feel that influence is fueled by a wanting and needing and its not your fault i'm wanting and needing what you have access to, nor is it mine you are wanting and needing what i have access to. i am afraid when we feel this way we are letting the stigma we have tried so hard to discard seep back into our pores and are forgetting the experience we paid for. We are responsible for ourselves and we are far from denial

iv) i've really taken to heart a lot of the hurtful things she said and forgotten all the things she asked me to remember (see: "i thought you had more kindness in your heart")

v) She told me she needs resolution or she can't see his eyes and i compared it to something i felt last summer when one was talking about being dropped so rapidly she forgot she was doing much dropping herself.

vi) i really, really don't believe She is capable of a lie

vii) when i am with Her, it becomes seemingly obvious She is embodied truth

viii) when She reiterated, you are such a good person, i believed Her

ix) Her's is a struggle i'm willing to share

5) she is a complete and utter hypocrite. I hope she finds a mirror soon.

6) Years of lettered talk doesn't always end up in beauty

7) It isn't possible for someone to know too much about you, unless you've accidentally fallen under their spell.

8) When I say "you", I no longer mean You. Please understand I can't write to You anymore like I'd once said, and this will be the last time You will feel Yourself here.

9) I'm surprised I've mourned this long, but also that its over.

9) My father is proud of me.

10) I know what I am doing, and I hope it hurts.

May 16

Closed hearts keep smiles
This time last year was panting
Dripping from our pores
I'm still on this porch
Like last year talking of
Going into That room again
If it were
Just the three of us girls
We would have
But his logic seeped into us while we were in a state of constant sway
And we went again but not that day
After cuddled and held in all parts of us
I even rubbed his neck the night before
Here I sit dripped still
But in raindrops
And alone this time
The first picture she ever wore
In her back pocket
Hidden behind the shoes
In the front hall

INTERVIEW

5. Do you have any last advice or words of wisdom for aspiring artists?

Stop thinking.

Read more from an interview about painting I did with The Young Curator.

“Mommy? You don’t just cry when you’re sad right? Because sometimes I look at Devon and I just love her so much I wanna cry tears of happy!”- Adam Sioui, May 1986

Brother, you are 29 Today. For 25 of those years, you have served as my older sibling; my rival, my nemesis, my partner-in-crime, my shoulder, my mentor, my birthday-buddy, my biggest fan and My Best Friend. From hearing Y’s voice in Ode to LA, to our unified ability to move our left baby toes, I am so unbelievably proud to have you as my brother. I love you. Happy Birthday.

Mom, you gave us life. That is so fucking insane.

Thank you for showing me first hand what it is to unconditionally love another human being. Thank you for accepting everything I throw at you and always doing your best to make sense of it. Thank you for always loving me even when it’s not easy. Thank you for my life.

Camaraderie of the hedgehog

it can be a sort of dilemma, so i've read. the poking and the stabbing from the rubbing and the getting-too-close. That all makes sense and I'd be lying if i said i wasn't one to swallow mouthfuls of too-bigs and grab hold of a hand as long as it would let me hold it. Its not a wonder anymore that i've gotten myself stabbed before and it is certainly no wonder that I've done my share of stabbing. But lately, I've kept myself locked up in this little room within a room with the colours of my mind (and colours I never knew existed, and colours that show themselves seemingly unannounced) and while i worry i may have used up my lifetime of doing in four short weeks; that i'm just going through the motions, I am still not worried because I know I will always go there. Whether he is with me or he is or he is, i feel a calm and I've said before I'm happiest when i don't notice time passing. This is especially true now. What is it called when i can feel time passing but i don't notice its hands, tick-tocking or the acid rising up in the throat forcing my heart to pound harder when I know its time to go home. I am always the last one up. I have always been the last, but here, right now, in this room within a room I don't mind. Cuddled by its bed-sheet'd wall hung by him and held by all sides with one I can really call a Best. That word! Best. So definite and set in stone. I haven't ever been one to throw that word around (love i use often, and mean it often, but love celebrates a fleeting; a happiness that never stays - as it should). I am not sure. Widened by the permanent yellow-green in her eyes and that jar of paint of the same she asked me to pick up because she knew I'd be stopping by the next day. Asking how it feels because she bled yesterday and knew it'd only be a matter of time before our bodies synced like they did that one time in the summer. That summer so long ago. Talk about Growth. Feeling un-censored and rather finished with living in such; feeling done with being the subject to your censors (and i'm sure you're tired of it too). Soon I'll be splayed on the grass in that tented city and I can't wait to hold hands with those who matter. Except Her, she'll be missed but I know I will continue to see her more than my own given hand-to-hold and that excites me. I've been missing women my whole life and I'm glad then when she says, "i'm going to do THIS!" and i say, "me too!" her only response is a laugh and sometimes chuckled, "I love you."

Laying

Sing not can't
Mindful of the streetcats
On Saturday morning after
Watching the sunrise
Over another beer
Locked door on the third
Calling for always
Little green and my body's own prison
Get me there
Take me there
Dematerialize my limbs and
Nails
Colour in hand
Head cocked sideways in a buzzing slump
Of flesh
Watching old favourites and faces
Of unfamiliarity
Get me there
Take me there
Get me to where I am
When mindful of
The streetcats