Thursday, October 7, 2010

Some things bear repeating...

This is my current facebook status.

We can only, each of us, know our own truth - that is what we live with and carry with us - the world around us muddies the water, and no one knows each of our stories from OUR perspective - so hopefully, we try to give each other a break, not believe the worst, move forward in love and see each other in the highest possible light. I will see everyone in love and light today. Everyone. ♥

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Where is the art?

Keep scrolling.... I just decided to share some of my writing here as well, so more visual art is coming!

Excerpt from Memoir

I have been working on this for months, am making some progress... can share a bit here.

Some things are vague, some things are vivid. “Was there water in the tub?” the officer asked the air. He wasn’t looking at anyone, just writing. “Maybe we should give her a sedative, she’s going to snap,” I could hear Johnny saying, “you know, something to calm her down?” His worry was on my sister, Karen, as she paced inside the bedroom, from wall to wall to wall to wall, wailing. I heard him say, “Melissa doesn’t even know she’s gone.”

I am Melissa, and I thought she was asleep and probably very, very sick. I didn’t understand yet that this had been building up over of months of crying out. She did things. Half-hearted attempts. No one had ever talked to me about death, so I had no idea what it meant. I felt like I suddenly didn’t know anyone around me, like my mother was a stranger, a woman I didn’t know. My sister was a screaming girl I had never seen before. All the grown-ups in my house were strangers. I was lost.

©2010 M Kyle Hollingsworth

chance meeting

I can see you she said
past the art that you wear
what you're trying to hide
with the blue in your hair

but there's a little girl
looking back

looking back over time
sighing inside
trying to hide
the petty crime
of being alive

you talked to the worn out shoe
the baby too
anyone who would listen to you

it's taken it's tole
they wounded your soul
stuffed you into a hole
and you're dying inside

then turning the tide

and now you have stopped
the dirty old clock
you'll never say more
just stare at the floor

looking back over time
you're sighing inside
and trying to hide
your petty crime
of being alive

©2010 M Kyle Hollingsworth


More than before
Needing those blue pills
More and more.

Never so wary and shakey
Faith wavering – center not holding

Spinning, then spun
I am come undone and
I’m closer now
To an understanding

Of how this all began and
With the touch of a hand
And a word a world can change

Ten years are gone and a lifetime
Yet mine has truly begun
In my innocence found
A son and romantic notion

The price has been paid
Yet there’s more to come
Karma has been laid, and
I know I must burn
And bleed more than this

So the center must hold
And my mind musn’t break
Time after time I’ve had
All I can take
And now this too
shall wound me
But I will not break.

Unraveled, but not
Still holding
Not making a sound

Calming down.
Calming down.

©2010 M Kyle Holingsworth


I found tobacco
Rolled up
And stashed inside the freezer
I miss you in ways I can’t believe
I rolled a cigarette,
Something I’d sworn off
But now, I drag and feel the pain
And want to close the door
I put it out after two,
And wish for something more

©2010 M Kyle Hollingsworth


Sitting alone last night
Glass of wine
I logged on in desperation
Divorce chat room
51 people online

talking about nothing
to each other
and no one

I made my plea
I’m here alone
No brownies or knitting
Just my reflection
In the monitor

Cabernet and anxiety
Needing affirmation

Stupid comments
I get plenty and then
One real voice about
How tough it’s been

It’s too late
I’m logging off
It’s all chatter
About nothing
I’m going through

Sleep computer
At least one of us will
More alone now
More quiet and still

©2010 M Kyle Hollingsworth

Angel Boy

His voice is the angel
in my ear
it reminds me
I am here, alive and significant.
To someone.
To him.
He’s excited to tell me
the same three things
I love you
I playing
I having fun

The sound echoes all the sweetness
The world has to offer
Harnessed into those tiny words
Given to me over the airways

And it’s precious like gold
All I have to hold on to
To say that is real
And to help my heart heal

I want him here
Want him back with me
But my gift to him is to let him be
Without my pain and suffering
To have fun and joy
And miss this darkness

It’s raining here
And sunny there,
The way it should be
for him
My angel boy
My miracle

One day I’ll tell you
How I held on to hope just for you.
You gave that to me
By coming to be

I love you
They can’t take that
Away from me…
Our song – who’d have known?

©2010 M Kyle Hollingsworth

Letting go of control

I own a arts & crafts studio where our mission is to help you find, free and bring out your creative side, to learn a new skill, to express yourself without judgement. I see children do it and I marvel at how they just draw, unabashedly and I want that for myself. As an artist, I struggle not to judge my own expression, my own art, even as I make it. My challenge is to truly express myself without expectation of the end result and on some magical occasions, I do it. And it’s beautiful. Most often, though, I think it through, I plan it out, I sketch it, then I draw or paint or create it. And much of the time it comes out exactly as I’d pictured it. Likely because I don’t let it flow, I “control” it. ;)

One night at the studio, we were having a workshop in collage, and I decided to work with an old, thinning and worn piece of framed out wood. I am not sure even where it came from, it was just sitting there, discarded and it called out to me. I began tearing pieces of paper off and applying layers of paint and just when I felt it was “freely” going somewhere I liked and I had a rhythm, my 8 year old son stepped over and asked “Can I help?” (He had been hanging out while class took place and previous to this moment had no interest in participating).

I looked around at the faces of the women and men who were there; people I was trying to model spontaneous, unstructured creativity to. Sometimes when my son asks if he can paint with me on a piece I am working on, I say yes. If it is a painting that is from a sketch, and super detailed, I say “not this one, honey” and I offer him some paper and paint. In fact, I often encourage him to paint with me. But this piece, I was (I thought) ‘in flow’ and for a split second I was about to say “no”, to protect this piece of art, so that I could get out of it what I thought I wanted. Then I realized I would be doing the very thing that stifles pure creativity. So I said “Sure, sweetie, go ahead. Here is a paint brush, here is some glue, what would you like to add”? He promptly picked up the brush, dipped it into white paint and painted almost entirely over an area that I had seen as “done”.

I smiled and let go. He continued, then I joined in and it was fun and I released all my expectations and then he said “Okay, thanks, Mom, I’m done”, and walked away. I added a line drawing of a dandelion, something that reminds me of him, and put it away to dry. It is hanging in my hallway and I love it. It has pieces of both of us and we both signed it.

©2010 M Kyle Hollingsworth