I've wanted to press the "delete" key.
I've wanted to send my novels through the shredder.
Would become void if I just gave up the ghost of my gift.
I never had the gall, balls or guts to destroy what was sacred.
She wets...burns...pisses on her art. By capturing the destruction of her innermost thoughts, she reveals the sacred art of surrender. Watching her words waste away under the running faucet...Witnessing the paper collapsing beneath a stream of urine...Burning the pages to her journal, we can take note of what really happens to a dream deferred.
A new collection is coming soon...
To visit her blog: