Tissue SeriesAnatomical Cross-Sections in Paper
These pieces are made of Japanese mulberry paper and the gilded edges of old books. They are constructed by a technique of rolling and shaping narrow strips of paper called quilling or paper filigree.
If something burns your soul with purpose and desire, it’s your duty to be reduced to ashes by it. Any other form of existence will be yet another dull book in the library of life.
Sometimes I get really anxious about trying to sleep and I am not sure why. I think it’s because I used to have a lot of nightmares, but I’m not sure! I’m so tired but I’m too scared to go to bed. GAH. BRAIN. STOP.
I’m good at loving books. I’m good at loving soft bed sheets. I’m good at loving coffees and teas. I am good at loving things that can’t love me back, that don’t have the power to leave. And maybe, that’s why I love them.
How to love your depressed lover.
Last night I thought I kissed the loneliness from out your belly button. I thought I did, but later you sat up, all bones and restless hands, and told me there is a knot in your body that I cannot undo. I never know what to say to these things. “It’s okay.” “Come back to bed.” “Please don’t go away again.” Sometimes you are gone for days at a time and it is all I can do not to call the police, file a missing person’s report, even though you are right there, still sleeping next to me in bed. But your eyes are like an empty house in winter: lights left on to scare away intruders. Except in this case I am the intruder and you are already locked up so tight that no one could possibly jimmy their way in. Last night I thought I gave you a reason not to be so sad when I held your body like a high note and we both trembled from the effort.
Some people, though, are sad against all reason, all sensibility, all love. I know better now. I know what to say to the things you admit to me in the dark, all bones and restless hands. “It’s okay.” “You can stay in bed.” “Please come back to me again.