death is not some weird theme that plays out only in coffins
death is something that dies in your heart
death is a like a hallow eve on christmas morning
when presents are empty and no one is home
when you alone lie on your bed, waiting for your time to fall silently into your own labeled coffin
death is something that I welcome because
my soul will leave this heavy body
which only carries that heart which
like i said, had heart surgery
heart surgery
bright lights dim lights
those lights that shine on holidays, the lights that flash while I wait for the train to pass
the cars waiting behind me, oblivious, i turn and spin making a 180
heart surgery,
like skin burning, flaking, skinning off
like skin with blood and brain and guts, eating flesh
everyone needs it, heart surgery
tears and flames, sometimes i wish
that i could walk towards death and meet God
complain and waver and sit on this orange carpet
im waiting for death, the only thing that I can glory in
because this heart surgery
is a little overwhelming,
It didn’t give me some numbing drugs to soften the effect of this impact so hideous and ugly
I guess heart surgery is something we all need
This was filmed in Summer 2010 when I backpacked through Taiwan/Asia. In September I took the bus up to Alishan Mountain, one of the most beautiful mountains in Taiwan by myself and what occurred was a personal journey of discovery. I woke up at before 4 am to take the train and watch the sunrise.
That earth is not my home.
On my way down the mountain I wrote this.
Taiwan
Just watched the sunrise
Train shadows
Pictures and love
Hugs like moon and sun back to back
Help us move forward now
Lovely monopoly
This tree frolicking burns of clay
Dancing to the beam
Softly caressing
My heart
As I gaze
Nature and I, caught in an embrace
Even though I sit
The suns warm smile
Makes me blush
Alone but surrounded by ever inch of God’s love
Freedom, peace like lying down on beds
of petals and greens
Oh though they stare
I am not intimidated
My whole being glows with anticipation
I am more than a stranger
A pilgrim
I am a sojourner passing 80 or more years
On this created masterpiece
But this is not my home.
Filmed, Written, Created by Rebekka Lien
Super human. This breath of life, this something, this something possessing this body of mine.
I wake up at 7:30am, lying in bed, hating the cold.
This breath of life, it’s 7:50, trudging and changing in 10 minutes.
I’m up for 8 hours working, working, sitting and thinking.
I go home and lift boxes and boxes, from memories of high school to 22.
It’s superhuman, I wash clothes, pack sales and post products by 10.
I don’t know what I am, but something must be super-human, in me. Not, me- but something possessing me.
It’s this breath of life. Oh, tomorrow. Tomorrow.
I sit again, it’s 11:28 pm.
Oh Tomorrow tomorrow.
I’ve started posting products on Ebay! 🙂
http://myworld.ebay.com/gugibabu/
Yes, I finally started this habit and have gotten totally addicted to it. My life, besides going to work on Monday to Fridays have included an online business. I have started to focus on posting all the foreign magazines I’ve purchased in Asia/Europe. Below are some of the colorful pages of the magazines- I love em! They are inspiring and fun!
CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE NOW!! BIDS ARE LIMITED TIME ONLY!
http://myworld.ebay.com/gugibabu/
1. Thread Show- Curated Indie Design & Fashion- Dec 3-5
Hippest Indie Shopping place to be.
2. Unique LA- December 11 & 12
Another hippest shopping place to be.
Happy Thanksgiving!
She’s amazing.
Woman I am
Society strives and pushes, conforming and forming
Why, woman I am.
I am foremost me, not a woman defined by the stereotypes and the expectations of society
I am a person foremost, a human being foremost, before I am what I am.
A label of restrictions, a label of conformity.
I am foremost a person, unique and precious, special and one-of-a-kind.
So why does society suppress and respect only those that are men in charge, in high places, in offices, in companies, then woman I am.
We like animals, labeled trying to live ourselves, but only at the end of the day, being reminded. of our restrictions, the society forces on those that are labeled.
Immigrants, migrants, poor, outcasts, punks, woman. It seems,
those labels need to fall, need to be ripped off our names- we have names.
This is the day, that woman I am, will change the world because I was willing and God
a reflection, me. has intervened to put power in my soul
So that, woman I am. Am not just a woman,
but me, the one created, I am. Without a noun, but a personhood.
This is the time, the day, that all will see limitations are crushed. Because I was willing and alive.
Able and broken.
I am proud to be me.
Devon with my wig. LOL.
Candyland girl
House Party.
And then of course a poem after my first day of work. Need to express and write.
You are.
You are far away, like a distant mist
A mist I want to touch, but keep chasing in no direction in no particular time
I’m a frazzled child, desiring yet holding back
I don’t know who I am really, or who I want, or who you are.
Confused, lost, but yet finding direction in the little hints, the little specks of dreams
and forgotten tales. yet you are. you still remind me.
I started climbing stairs, only finding, you swam out the waters and gave me a chocolate ball
Delighted, I smiled and laughed. you like a magical beast, dove into the ocean and became a fish
nowhere to be found. only in my dreams. you are.
Rebekka Lien 