Painting For BooGoo

President Obama,

I'm writing you this letter
becuase I feel I really need to warn ya.
You see- I am having these issues with my Fincaial Aid,
I am starting to feel a bit afraid.
My taxes, I did not evade,
I always get a good grade,
I am definetly not overpaid,
I am just tryin' to study for my trade!

What I am told the problem is,
Seems to be out of the hands of this WHIZ.
My moms new husbands income is affecting me,
The injustice here, you will soon agree.
I havent lived with my mom in over 6 years,
I am old enough now to sling back a few beers.
I have been putting myself through college,
Tryin' to build up my knowledge.
I take every opportunity
To positively
Impact the community,
Spreadin' peace n' love,
But still I fall short of-

This system is holding me down,
I'm just tryn' not to drown,
In debt,
Or regret...

I'm just a little confused,
I thought this nation laid down the right foundation,
So that students like me could recieve an education,
While big time CEO's took a vacation.
But it seems I have been played,
I can't help but to feel betrayed.
I thought you said FAFSA would be simplified,
But the other day I cried...

No money for the Independent,
Maybe I'll just drop out and be a flight attendent.
But we can't even fuel the airplanes,
All the money is going to political campaigns,
Providing solutions to this Sh*t,
But you know it aint Legit.

I guess all I really want to say,
And I know it sounds a bit cliche.
But I just got to get it off my chest,
I am super stressed,
And not very impressed.
But just incase this letter is a success,
Send a check to the return address.
:)

Bests,

A Regular Girl From The Midwest

What Are We Not Accounting For?

Truth... what would we do without it? Live in Bliss? Or live with false Hatred?

When something one once thought was the truth is debunked so elegantly, how does one cope?

The Anniversary of 9/11 is coming up rather quickly.  In preparation for mourning, one must understand what exactly they are sad about.  Lost lives is only the brink of my heart break when it comes to 9/11.  9 years after the tragedy, questions still pour through my mind. How could our sufficient government and military let something like this occur? Why would anyone want to harm lives of innocent people? What could motivate such an act? When will people not be okay with the shady story that is written in the history books?

I stumbled upon many documentaries made by people like me who had the thirst for the truth, my thirst has never, in 9 years, been quenched.  Conspiracy theories to "facts", I still did not understand the answers to my questions.  9 years since the tragedy that claimed roughly 2,976 lives on that day, and still it is affecting the lives of many innocent beings today.

I recently found a documentary made by Dylan Avery, a 26 year old guy from NY, that changed my perspective entirely.  I encourage all that mourn the lives lost on 9/11/2001 to educate themselves further on what exactly happened on that day. 

It is up to us to write history, it is up to us to shape society.  We do NOT have to stand by and watch hatred spread, or settle for what is spoon fed to us.  It is up to us and only us to find the truth.  Please do not settle for what you are told, don't listen to me, don't listen to Dylan Avery, look, find, examine, and develop.  ONLY then will those lost lives be avenged.




http://www.loosechange911.com/

Flight 2026

I hate flying on a rainy day. I don’t think I should test mother nature, how bold am I? Who says I need to get to Atlanta right now. Flight 2026, we are ready for take off… Reading in turbulence, hung over as all hell, is a sure trip to the airplane bathroom. Even if I was able to read right now, I didn’t bring the most appropriately titled book for public. Or is it? The nice lady next to me would surely be offended. Or, maybe, she is so caught up in her own world that she wouldn’t even notice a little swear word.




Oh thank God, the fasten seat belt sign just turned off. Lordy Lordy, we are safe.



.Life has a funny way of waking you up when you become swept up by its conditions. If the smaller, subtle wake up calls fail, then mother nature will give you a slap. And if that doesn’t work? A freak accident will take care of you. I cant help but feel like a dumbass after the last few weeks of wake up calls. You know the saying, “when it rains, it pours?” Ya, how about wake the hell up and appreciate life. It isn’t a guarantee, you know. YOU are NOT invincible.



Oh great, “Folks we’re a little choppy, Im guna hafta turn the ’fasten seatbelts’ sign back on and ask you return to your seats.”



People just get used to living, and they forget to live. It becomes habit, monotonous, go with the motions and you’ll be safe. Why not take chances, risk having a better, happy life. Fear fuels stagnation.



I am victim to my own fears. A leap requires courage. Two years ago when I decided I wanted to jump off a cliff, into a lake, I swallowed my fears and leaped. Risked my life for a little adrenaline. But it wasn’t the adrenaline I wanted, what I wanted was to overcome myself. Take control over my body, and feel the world I lived in.



Deep breath, look over the edge and watch little stones trickle down with gravity and hit the water.

Splash.

Deep breath, assure my doubt that I am jumping no matter what it is says.

Walk back to get a running start, kick off my sandals.

Deep breath, stop thinking and just run already!

Mind goes blank, I run as fast as I can… My feet touch the edge of the cliff, my muscles react without orders and I jump.

OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO FUCKING DIE. The only thought running through my head as my brain suffers momentarily from lack of oxygen. Free falling is a great wake up call. Hello? Yes this is she. I’m alive? This isn’t the Truman Show? Wow, well… thank you! Talk to you later, bye.

My body hit the water.

Splash.

I sink to the bottom, and realize I need to swim now. I come up for air with a huge smile and gasp for oxygen.

OH MY GOD I AM FUCKNG ALIVE.



One thing I am sure of in life is that children will always seek validation from their parents. I feel bad for parents, they have a tough job, and I think we are most often too hard on them. I cant tell you how much our parents come up in discussion, even as adults, we still focus so much energy on pleasing them… or criticizing them.



The other day I smoked a cigarette in front of my father. It was my 23rd birthday and I was feeling liberated. The first birthday I had spent with my dad in 6 years, and I wanted to show him how alive I am.

Look what I can do, I can kill myself slowly if I want to.

He didn’t say a word about it, just continued our conversation like I wasn’t inhaling toxic chemicals. Even as adults, we cry out to out parents for attention, and even as adults, we have a hard time coping with the absence of change in our parents. I didn’t even want the cigarette, I wanted a reaction. A reaction I got, apathy.



Apathy. What a hell of a reaction. So bold are the ignorant that they feel so entitled to be apathetic. Why do YOU get to be the apathetic soul, why do I have to care what happens to you. You don’t care about me, so why must I have my heart hurt when you hurt?



But in all honesty, I would rather be me. I would rather have the constant reminder that I am alive when I feel my heart break for a stranger. I would rather feel vulnerable to a man who 10,000 miles away from me, than settle for the comfort and safety of a man who lives next door. Id rather get angry when I read about the pain a child has to go through, than look right past their tears. Id rather cry everyday for every woman than to feel empty. Plain. Bored. Pointless. Heartless.



The only thing I need in

life is purpose.



Ah, tomato juice. Old faithful. My staple diet while traveling, what would I do without your nourishment. Mmmmm.



I do suggest tomato juice when you fly, it is delicious, filling, healthy… BUT it is red. Seconds after I put my computer away, following orders, I spilled my glass of juice on my lap. I started to laugh, the lady next to me started to laugh too. It was funny. At least I had time to change clothes on my layover.



Coincidentally, after I put my computer away I had a conversation with the lady next to me about fear and life. She told me she was going to Italy with her daughter, and she loves to travel, but her husband wont leave the country. He is too afraid to experience the world. She let me in on a little secret, she was afraid to travel alone. This was the first flight she had every flown on by herself. She pulled her ticket out and asked if she had enough time to get to her connecting flight and seemed a bit panicked. I assured her she would have a solid 40 minutes to get to Terminal E, the International Terminal. I told her it was a very nice terminal, they even played piano in the cafeteria, but she wouldn’t have enough time to enjoy it as much as I did. She laughed and eased up a little. She asked if the train to take her to the terminal was far. I smiled and replied that I had a two hour layover so I would be more than happy to show her the way to her flight.



We got off the plane and she immediately lets me know she is following me. I laughed and said I know! Once we get her to her flight, she gave me a big hug and thanked me. I told her to have a WONDERFUL time in Italy, enjoy every minute of it.

I never even got her name.



My lay over was perfect, I had just enough time to change my clothes, wash my face, grab a bottle of water and chat with Ahmed. We talked about Ramadan, and how it is so lovely because it really allows a person to take a breath and realize what is important in life. People spend time with their families and really re-connect with the important aspects of living. Something like Ramadan needs to be practiced all over the world. I think everybody needs to take a step back from their day to day routines and re-evaluate what the hell they have been doing.



My vacation to South Florida with Sarah was a chance for us to both re-evaluate life, and develop a new perspective about how we are living it. The first day in Sunny Isles, we got into a car accident. Everyone involved walked away from it with just a few scratches, but the rental car was done for. You ever have one of those surreal experiences where time is in slow motion and you cant hear a single sound? Where you are moving, but you don’t know what exactly you are moving towards? Where a car window shatters next to your best friend and all you can do is cover your face… well, I had one of these moments. Driving in South Beach is a risk. Driving in South Beach with a Prius, even bigger risk. Blind spots are no joke.



I was parking, I abruptly switched lanes to do so, I checked my mirrors, and turned right. Next thing I know, I am outside of the car pacing around a Spanish-speaking motorcyclist whose arm wont stop bleeding, listening to a man calling 911, and thinking one simple thought, “Is this REALLY happening?“ Sarah, still in the car, speechless. How exactly it happened, I am still not quite sure. He drove right into the side of our car and his arm took out the window. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, and he didn’t die.



I paced.



And paced.



And paced.



Life is too short to dwell on its conditions. Life is too unpredictable to be so sure. So now, when I walk away from this accident, neck deep in debt and worry, am I able to not dwell?



We had a good time in South Florida regardless. We went for a walk a few hours after, and ended up at an Italian restaurant. We decided to share a bowl of pasta and a bottle of Malbec. The server brought out the bottle and wished us health and money before our first sip.

We toasted.



Health and Money.

Process

The Process that comes with making Art is why I love Art.  I hardly care for the final piece, and I miss making it.  I miss the flow of ideas, the connections my mind makes while compiling the never ending ideas... Sometimes I will make more than one piece of art at a time... sometimes I never finish the art, and maybe that is finished to me.  Anywho, my friend Shannon requested I put these pictures up the other day, so here they are... The Process of My Layers Piece, Jerusalem.

^This picture makes me laugh becuase my shirt is flipped up, something I do often when at home...

I needed COLOR, next painting to relieve my eyes!

The End.

Layla's Advice On Life...

It is funny how much one little inkling of anxiety, one little tug at the tummy... one little ounce of fear can shape and transform a being.  Fear commands even the strongest to lay down and tremble.  Fear can make even the most determined take a break from their high stride.  It is interesting to me to sit back and count all my fears... You may say I am only afraid of death, or maybe being alone or even the dark.  But when you really sit back and dive deeper into yourself you will find that every action you have made, every word that has come out of your mouth, was at some point touched by fear.  When I reflect, I see it everywhere. The way my parents raised me, christian schooling and forced beliefs, the filled voids by past courage, the psychoanalysis of the way I react, and that even the smallest fear I had when I was 8 will forever affect me the decisions I make as an adult.  I think present day, the fear of paying one bill too early because another may come, or giving up my work shift to go to a concert, the fear of speeding to get somewhere on time or the fear of maybe another human being not liking me... But the future is what I am most concerned about.  The future is what we have most control over.  Yes, our past and present decisions affect the future.  Yes we must acknowledge this in order to create a stable future for ourselves... but could fear of the future be affecting our present day decisions that in turn hinder our future?  This concern of mine, this is what causes me to make decisions like to call off to go to that concert, or to save up every penny I have to buy a ticket to Egypt, to buys books, sell those books so I can buy more books.  To watch documentaries on my Saturday night off work, to go out on a Tuesday, to take a self defense class, to eat ice cream when all I want is ice cream.  Fear cannot and will not be a factor in my future.

 I want what is good and right in this world, which most have given up on before they are even introduced to the possibilities.  Who says we have to always answer to someone?  The world is a scary place, take a break from FOX news and its 24 hour feed of Lindsey Lohan and read the opinion column from small newspapers around the world.  Gain some perspective.  Get an idea, and do something.  Life is not about being stuck in a monotonous trap where you do the same thing every week, you eat the same sandwich for lunch because you know it is good, you drink the same beer because you know it gets you drunk... Life is about taking and giving.  Trying new and creating new.  If you stick to the same comfortable routine, how can you possibly become innovative?  Without that spark, how to you stay happy? Self-loathing is NOT happiness... it is a way to cope with "life."

I am blessed and cursed by being born and raised in America.  Blessed in countless ways.  I am more fortunate than most souls on this planet in the materialistic, human needs sort of way.  But when it comes to developing a purpose, to becoming an adult and escaping that fear that children have engraved in them to keep them safe... well... This is where America lacks.  Our system is flawed in ways that we become lost in our own belongings.  We lose sight of what and who we are.  Why we are..... How we are.  There is no mark between child and adult.  We have a drinking age that signifies respect... but then these children just get thrown into a vice in which they can justify not feeling a purpose, rather than having to go out and seek a purpose.  And believe me, there is plenty to get done.

But don't listen to me, listen to Layla... she knows what is up.

Rain? I Can't Complain.

Rain drops hurled themselves at my car as I squinted to see through the wet windshield. I haven’t seen or felt rain this angry in a while. I thought about pulling over; I don't really trust man-made objects in combatant with nature, but I continued to drive forward, into the storm, to visit my best friend and her family. I am not one to let my "environment" obstruct my goals. Vehement thunder and incensed lightening provided quite the soundtrack to my blurry vision. I thought about how dirty the streets were before the rain washed them clean. How cloudy my mind once was driving before I actually had to pay extreme attention to the road.

Fear can wake a person up. Fear can make a person hide. Fear can justify extremities, validate simplicity, or intensify curiosity. Many people on the road today acted differently to this fierce tsunami like storm. Some pulled off to the side of the road and waited for the rain to soften and the lightning to calm. Others drove the usual speed limit or faster to rebel against the weather. Some, like me, drove about 10 under the speed limit, and paid attention to our surroundings in order to reach our destination in a safe and timely manner. This reaction by people is not unique to this situation. I find in all my daily obstacles strangers react in one of 3 ways.

Rain is lovely to me. It is the substance in which life is created and maintained pouring down onto the filth and corruption we have created and maintained. A sense of renewal is brought with a storm like today. But it also showers onto the beauties of the world we have not yet succeeded in ruining. My hike through El Yunque in Puerto Rico revived this idea. The hike was long and hot, but so rewarding once I reached the top and drank fresh, clean, life giving rain water. It was at the top of the mountain, knee deep in rain water that I was able to appreciate everything my senses had just witnessed.

Nobody ever wants to get wet. Even me, today once I reached my destination, I sat in my car deciding whether or not I wanted to wait to get out and venture to the house. I looked in my mirror to see Sarah walking to my car with a huge umbrella and a relieved smile wiped across my face. My thoughts wrapped up while Sarah and I shared an umbrella and walked through the muddy puddles that were slowly draining into the sewer. After all, it is about appreciation and relationships with others who are also experiencing life…