On January 13, 2009, I was just beginning to paint and wrote these words in my personal journal...

As the light hits the way, clarity shows thru
and the dust particles float up and away.

Today truth revealed hidden lies
and now I know the way to go.

I think I'll hide my beginnings
so no opinion will crush their creative flare.

I will work in a non-judgmental state
and accept my immaturity as fragile
and precious and free.

The voices that criticize
and the opinions that pretend to know best
are not welcome here
in my moment.

This time is a gift
and this space will become a secret garden,
a place for me to be
in which no other may enter without invite.

My gift to myself,
O patient soul,
here is today!

Now express and explore
all that is within you.

-Stacey t

My paintings
begin with this thought...
"Put a little paint in the corner"...and so I do.

The brushes, the paint, the water and surface agree
and I hum or sing or chant a word and begin to move
my hand, not knowing what it will be.

Each one is a mystery unfolding before me.
Symbols, messages, bright colors.

I really like some of my paintings
and some I don't,
but I keep them because they are real.
Whether beautiful or ugly, they are gifts.

Many have names, few have prices.
Some have moved out, still more are in hiding.

​-Stacey t

Where did you go, my only brother?
Where did you go, my only son?
What happened to the heartstrings that played
when our spirits were young?

I listen in the silence to recall the tangled tune
that bound us to one another.
Our song ended way too soon.

Fare thee well, my only brother.
Fare thee well, my only son.
Our new melody takes its shape
​in the mornings rising sun.

The sky is blue

the trees softly bud

my spine feels like glass

I lay under the pillows

the dress squeezes me and leaves me panting

I spoke too passionate
​
I am certain my eyes bulged

Last night I saw the secret girl dance and drink
​
​after the first girl laid in her closet to weep.

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