• Bitter-Sourced Aid

    This graphic art piece is intended to provide symbolism for the naturopathic principle: tolle causam. The meaning behind this piece is to shed light on how our health issues can be the lemons (symptoms) to create lemonade (living to our fullest health and wellness potential). Health issues can be uncomfortable, invoke fear, pain, and inhibit us from living life the way we want to in certain respects. The symptoms are the lemons: bitter. When we have symptoms, we seek treatment, and in turn this can potentially lead us to revitalize our existence, establish healthy routines and habits, prevent other more serious diseases and feel well from the inside out. The sunset in the background represents the many dimensions and beauty of a patient. The mountain represents the obstacles and challenges in achieving health. The lemon juice squeezed onto the mountain represents the nourishment needed to overcome those health challenges.

  • Chaotic Paths

    Chaos colors my road map

    Some epiphanies are being saved for later

    Many experiences I cherish

    Many make me shudder

    I wouldn’t wish these feelings on anyone else

    But I also want to keep them all to myself

    When you leave, it means you’re going somewhere important

    When you get left, it means the seasons have changed

    Perspective keeps your head above water when the world flips over onto the wrong side

    It happens to all of us

    Just don’t hold your breath

  • Rivers

    The wounds are still rivers
    The wolves consumed the moon
    The wisdom has not bubbled up
    The window is still fogged
    The well is covered in slugs
    The walls are hemorrhaging
    My hands are in the air
    The isn’t the dream I dreamed of

  • Empty Suitcase

    I left a space
    Dripping in lace
    Red straps
    I wanted a kiss
    But I got slapped

    I was hoping to get replaced
    With regret
    Not with an empty set
    Of ghost chasing
    In my chest

    I didn’t think it was a race
    But for the first time I tasted my strength
    This pain has length
    It’s long and large
    My empty suitcase

    I locked myself in a hotel room
    My heart has imprints of the cage
    I slipped and slung in the slum
    While my grief recalled rage

    A forest set on fire
    It won’t rain for 9 more winters
    Paint to a painter
    It won’t dry for 9 more summers

    The account is in my name
    I should have never acted like a scavenger
    And started the game
    I was just a passenger
    I held the flag
    Then I became the rag

  • Engraved

    Sometimes the road just ends. The comfort becomes poison. The structure becomes rotten. I started to think that love isn’t enough. Love is plenty enough, it’s just that that wasn’t love.