~circularruins

brittney rand

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About Me Member Painter circularruins18/Female/Canada

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Painting Myself Into A Picture

Painting myself into a Picture
I found it kind of humorous, the way I had responded to such an important question. The room: bustling with voices that compete for space, the smell of doughnuts lingering and children dancing about. “What do you look like to yourself?” you asked, as your eyes burned through me corrosively. Goosebumps. I felt my feet look for a solid stance and, of course, the nervous tremble I get in my fingertips. I wanted to say that perhaps I had never known but, dumbly, I found myself tripping over an answer. I fumbled through piles and piles of words that

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Unsafe.Once upon a time, when 'once upon a time' was how stories got told, I was an idea careening through my mother's blood like a cyclone.
I careened, pilotted sans discipline.
It took 9 months to invade her, defacing her body with paracital swelling.  I crashed right through her that night, until I became more life than tissue.   I was muted, in awe of the hands that held me.  It was love.
I learned to walk, chewing my pillowcase to pass the day away--  I soon grew tall enough to see faces.  Again, I fell in love with the hands, and the Unsafe.
by ~circularruins

The History of This House.It must have been love that commissioned this house to be made: 1965. The photographs, black and white still-frames— paper faces—seem to show it. Depicted, a woman perched upon a man’s lap (exposing her heavy ring finger, sixteen), each resembling my siblings and I—different periods. They live quietly in the past. The children of them, squabbling on the glossy pages, barely in focus: one of them my father, before he grew tough in both voice and fists.
The creek there, before it could have ever been The History of This House.
by ~circularruins

Verve.And on came the morning,
my eyes reading the unfailing sunrise
like a long-awaited letter.   "Asleep since kingdom came, and went" I said to the flowers of my pillow,
my ever-allegiant lovers. "Too long have I dreamt, and so long        since dreams filled         my wakefulness."
And I woke; erased each fingerprint on the glass of each
and every window, here.   And I spoke no words
until this
        &n Verve.
by ~circularruins

The Sacraments of a WorkdayMopping:
mapping the terrazo of business floors. (5 cubes forward, but none back to home.)
I learn to take my own, my weight              (my fate), stuffing barcode stickers in my pocket from the floor.
And with each spurious scratch of my broom, the blithe and chivalrous compadre, I watch my hopeful head distort in speckled hyper-gloss. (I smell the exhaust of burning wages.)
And I sweep, sweep, sweep away a decade under each The Sacraments of a Workday
by ~circularruins

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The May Blues.

Sun Apr 24, 2005, 7:49 AM

Well, here I am again.

It's been a long time since I have updated this journal, but as many of you may realize, after a while it tends to get a little redundant. As for my writing, I have been engaging in it less and less-- unless you counts songs, of which I don't think I'd ever post.

I am the owner of a broken heart; I spend my days reading and re-reading "True Stories" by Margaret Atwood, smoking cigarettes, and drinking. Thus, if you don't hear from me for long periods of time, it's because I've either entirely lost all words, or entirely lost myself.

Good day.

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Devious Info

Current Residence: various places in ontario, canada
Interests: writing, music, films, art, exploring the universe without moving an inch
Favourite movie: waking life, the true meaning of pictures, girl with the pearl earring, pollock, etc.
Favourite band or musician: anything from the 20's to the 50's, peaches, ladytron, ani difranco, jolie holland, too ma
Favourite genre of music: american roots music, reggae, electro, folk, indie, punk, new wave
Favourite artist: dali, pollock, miro, duchamp, matisse, da vinci, children.
Favourite poet or writer: atwood, gibran, ginsberg, kerouac, etc.
Favourite photographer: barbara morgan, elizabeth siegfried, shelby lee adams, kryn taconis
Favourite style of art: abstract, dada, post-impressionist, post-modern, futurist
MP3 player of choice: winamp
Personal Quote: "you fit into me like a hook into an eye: a fish hook, an open eye"
Tools of the Trade: pencil/paintbrush, and a brain.

Email: b_rambo_@hotmail.com
MSN: b_rambo_@hotmail.com

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Comments

~dystopian-dream-girl Mar 2, 2007, 5:08:34 PM

tell winnipeg that it can't keep you. we want you back.

=HateBunny Mar 7, 2005, 9:17:36 PM

interesting. I just saw your paint-job on jules' back. Nice writings.

--
no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.

~anotherfucker Dec 5, 2004, 6:20:25 PM

where have you been hiding?(razz)

~circularruins Dec 19, 2004, 7:14:31 AM

just in my cozy little nook
over here

~anotherfucker Dec 19, 2004, 11:13:51 AM

haha...good to see you back.
i love your writing...

i fear that if i fav one, or two even... i'll end up faving them all.

so,,,comma,,,,,,know that.

~circularruins Dec 20, 2004, 4:04:35 PM

heh, you are the kind of reader i like.
i like the cut of your jib, mate.

(whatever a 'jib' consists of)
-brittney

~anotherfucker Dec 20, 2004, 10:11:13 PM

my jib is composed of refined salt and oxymoron extract.

~Kharmalina Dec 2, 2004, 5:40:38 PM

i am so in awe of your writing. i just had to friend you so that i can be fortunate enough to experience your amazing talent every time you post something new. i feel so intimidated and inspired by what i've read here... never stop writing, your words are so powerful.