Tag Archives: exposition

holy ghosts

in the end, we are all just holy ghosts

lone, holy, haunted ghosts wanting to be seen, felt

if anyone were to have thoughts or draw conclusions about this ghost, my collection of words, photos, ephemera, art, altars, or the microcosmic worlds i’ve built — now, or when i’m dead

in the end, and at the beginning,
it is and was,
all, for me to better understand

my Self, for myself, by my self

… as well to understand my relationship to others, to the world, to the Earth – the pain and beauty of it all, and to my creativity, the act of creating — and to existence itSelf

no one else is essential to interact with,
interpret, interrogate or validate any of it

the imperative in my work and my art is not to be known or understood by another — even though, even when, that exquisitely rare experience occurs – it can conjure deep feelings of true homecoming or true love /both, actually/

being seen, or being seen as creative, evocative, provocative, nouveau, derivative, debased or talentless is wholly different than being known and understood by someone

and although communion, consummation, and collaboration in experiencing, creating, or releasing art can be gratifying, challenging, inspiring and evolutionary,

i must always remember:

all my collaborators are ghosts; i am my own, lone, Earthly muse; i Am my audience of one

everyone else is collateral advantage

“in the end, you will find [only] yourself at the beginning”

ghosts: me, Frida Kahlo, Agave & The Moon

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she answers every unknown call
thinking it might be him
on a burner phone

calling to say
calling to tell
calling to ask
calling to weep
calling to laugh
calling to breathe



we were not that singular, after all
in spite of all evidence and words
to the contrary

we began and ended

like everyone, everything, anything else



this, i know

we never grew boring
we never stopped loving
we never stopped wanting



you vanished


what does this all mean now

what does anything mean now

what can anything mean now

what is the meaning of meaning now

this, i don’t know


let them know she was killed
in a struggle with an intruder in a house
then let them know she was the intruder
then let them know she was the house


i sometimes wake myself speaking to you aloud from my dreams

the Lake carries my voice
in one direction, west, at night;
if i’m being truthful,
in sunlight too

do you hear me in your sleep,
or when awake, in your perfect nest, your perfect, structural roost

no rest then, no rest now,
be or do,
do won out

i found /no, fought/ for my contentment
then lost /no, loved/ it away;
if i am being truthful,
it was too easy

i want to get back to when the tolerance of crows was all that mattered to me; when meadow and sky were enough to hold my singular, regent attention

and forget /no, ignore/ the attentions of men who unbecome and rebecome strangers


There is no possibility of self-directed evolution without tangible, material exposure and palpable, psychic vulnerability.

Fruition is not guaranteed, but neither is the familiarity [or longevity] of stasis.

— kt, february 2017


If I ever succumb to dementia or Alzheimer’s

I might blurt out all my

deepest secrets and desires

and my darkest shames

Let me tell you my truest truths now

so you won’t feel

bewildered, surprised, stunned, shocked, repulsed, or devastated