Sarafish Does Art
140 Kenilworth st Waves, NC, US

...in other art news, above is one of my grandmothers’ portraits. People would come and sit for her. some purchased these portraits, some would not. I am not surprised that this woman, Mrs. Bishop, did not buy her likeness. I don’t find it particularly endearing or capturing of the beautyshe apparentlypossessed. ( The least favourite of all my grandmothers works, and here you see it, precariously balancing on a book in our home library). My grandmother, a load-bearing, inscr...utable, intelligent and sharp tongued Norwegian housewife, was an incredibly talented painter. ( you can see a sliver of her congenital proclivities in my sisters painting to the left) Some people viewed her portraiture as a (albeit skilled) hobby, some felt monetary compensation for actual work was important. Mrs. Bishop, clearly, did not. Grandma’s painterly gesture captured in the crook of that finger resonated for me as the witchy phrase; ‘I’ll get you, My Pretty’. As a child this image was pleasingly creepy. My mother told me once that this woman had been "‘chilly, caring more about appearances than affection. She, unasked, advised me to drink coca-cola in order to lose weight." A woman I’d never met, long deceased, her image reaching through time, communicating the attitudes and culture of an era, along with my grandmothers feelings about her, and tantalizing the imagination of my child self. This is why Art.

Self doubt, the mean cousin to self reflection, is a toilet snake. It'll have you scared to pee. The antidote is warm friends, warm baths, and warm sentiments. Keep those fleet feet headed forward, fear can only nip at your heels.

Sold this little kitty a while back

*not for young ones* Let's talk about sex. I follow a few sensual pages: @alphachanneling, @social.vagina, @danni.elsie. I follow also more politically active pages in the arena of sex workers rights: @soldiers_of_pole_ , @thebswc, @thequeenofsexy . I believe sex workers rights are human rights, and directly combat the disenfranchisement of the vulnerable, those who are trafficked against their will. Whether a woman/man/transgender human is making it known they are a sensual ...being, (which is not an invitation but a proclamation of joy and what brings comfort to them, just as someone displaying their children's photos is not inviting strangers to play with or comment rudely). Essentially it is a victimless act and not intended or a welcome of harm. The bravery therein is the concept that although sexuality is personal, it is a universal, human biological imperative and some choose to acknowledge this universality. When spoken about or brought to light it can drum up some intense emotional reactions (Janet Jackson's breast at the Superbowl, Shakira and Jlo at the Superbowl..come to think of it it might have something to do with that audience.) I remember meeting a group of drag queens (or is it transgender? Let me know) at a bar in San Francisco and being in awe of their Dolly Parton-esque in your face beauty, a fierce, uber representation of femininity and an adherence to a standard of sexuality, sensuality, and living that put their very lives at risk. Talk about big dick energy. Is sexuality intended to grab your attention? Have you seen a car commercial? A Paris Hilton eating a cheeseburger commercial? Or any commercial at all? I'm conflating categories here but one point I'll leave with here with is this: many engage in harmful acts in private, whether they purchase material in which the involved parties are degraded or harmed, participate by watching videos believing their own innocence because they didn't create them. And yes, young people have access to things they shouldn't and if you think they don't that's just not realistic. So let's talk about it. See more

Okay we all do so much in this forum. Activism, promotion, sharing of our lives, self aggrandizing, influencing,( which I’m aware is a real thing and I’m not shitting on it) but I’m old. I’m from a time before. I had teachers in real life. She’s it. Do you have that? People outside of here? I fucking hope so. I love being alive. I wish she was. Won’t forget her. Love to all

It's all so beautiful

‘She felt the sting of awareness- this animal-like need she contained gave off its own heat- a string of shocked looking faces in the recesses of memory: her first cat frightened over her over zealous attentions, Emily in the kindergarten bathroom whom she cornered after Emily called her weird- In its wholesale, unchecked form it could be careening wildly, raw and unchecked, some shrank from its rank feel. But sharpened and honed- it could also be beautiful, when used right, even magnificent.’

Just putting my old titties up to the community standards test cuz if a bunch of white supremacists can storm the White House be labelled antifa ( which stands for anti-fascist) on a national platform anything goes right? And when did titties harm anyone? Gawddamn speak up people. I give this post an hour and I’ll be banned for a week I’m sure.

Completely unrelated caption (this is river ice lit up by a phone) and I'm really tempted to launch into my dream which is fascinating to me ( I was body whomping in ocean whitewater) . could be a cortisol induced PMS fog, but can we say this to people? It may fix everything: " I'm getting an animal read on you that's very different from the words you are using. That's completely your business, but when/if you're comfortable feel free to tell me what's really going on".

That's joe Rogans voice

Why we all got our phones- ready to catch animals being unwittingly hilarious My boy Arlo killing the cute game

Slow songs are for skinny hos

Merry Christmas y'all!

Perhaps the most compelling graffiti I have ever peeped on.

My old outdoor bathtub. Bathing under the stars. I remember some Christmas's ago, having a cigar and some port, steaming under the island night sky

December rhymes with remember. Heading into the long dark night however it be, studded with bright nuggets of lit up moments. Remember the bathtub. The kitties. The stars which hung like glitter snow in a snow globe village. I used to write with such prolific profundity, but how can I if I hardly read anymore?We hear of octopus finding their way to freedom through the most impossible crevices; this is what words have always been to me, delicate tendrils used to gain escape or... passage to something grander. A necessity. In my psychology class this year we discussed how social rejection equates to actual physiological pain. I’ve experienced that pain. It hasn’t bred resentment, it ripped the bandage off, that delusion of a protective membrane, that mask everyone must wear to fit. Mine was yanked off. I’ve felt nekked and unprotected like a human babe left in a wolf den. Not that my flesh is innocent and others are fanged foes, that too is a matter of imagined fears. I brought myself to write this morning, because as Scrooge awoke on a glittery, snow capped morning and declared I’m alive, I’m free, and I can love ...such have I . See more