"All your life you've never seen woman, taken by the sky…would you stay if she promised you heaven? would you even try? She is like a cat in the dark and then she is the darkness…she rules her life like a fine skylark and then the sky is starless"-Feetwood Mac
I've been trying to write about my life for years, pages and files lost after my carelessness with my macbook got the better of me. A lot of it was beautiful, and some parts I remember, but mostly, I remember my Dad told me in art school his professor told him: "to paint watercolors…go paint 100 of them…and then throw them all away, and then you are ready to paint." I know Joyce Carol Oates threw away most of her early work, I know the Duke of Rochester (Johnny Depp in The Libertine) had all of his writings burned on his deathbed as hid mind slowly went from syphilis. I also remember Steve Job's Stanford commencement address: "You cannot connect the dots looking forward, it's only looking back." It was something that all came together, as I turned 27 this year, became Catholic, was hospitalized for third time for my bipolar disorder and prepared to get married this following spring. Somehow, after all I went through this year, and the way I see things now, let's me know I'm ready to try this again. However, finally writing this; and writing it the way I wanted to all along I do know one thing: Each bit will have to be gradual and very sporadic and if I do anything; I have to always be different from the "rules" or standards: so using this blog is my own unique way of my process of telling my story. If nobody reads it, I don't even care. I'm writing it down. Seriously, truth is better and stranger than fiction.
