Hello. I am Kathy B.
A twenty something tale of being, growing, and becoming. (Frivolity and fuck ups aplenty.)
Monday, 25 April 2016
Don't sweat. Your art matters, and yet it doesn't. Crashing waves will still spit at the shore, and the colossal sun will still rise, and bewitching stars will tease the night. The world isn't waiting for your word. Know that. You are less prone to insanity than you think.
Sunday, 17 April 2016
Anybody who knows me well will have witnessed a moment when I've been consumed by it. The fear. When I've been completely riddled with self-doubt, or too anxious to form a coherent sentence, let alone reach any degree of a particular moment's potential for joy. I've been insufferable at times: I know that because I've felt it too. And I've hated myself for it: for unwillingly lowering the saturation of something that could really be quite spectacular.
Sunday, 10 April 2016
(*Photo credit to Liz West*)
It was a summer's night when we met,
and I remember how the black sky wore stars like extravagant jewels,
as if they'd come out to gaze at us for once,
because we were beautiful, then.
And it was a winter's night when we parted.
When the air between us was heavy with a sense of longing: belonging, that didn't belong.
And those same gleaming stars let the black clouds engulf them.
Just like we did.
And there's nothing to see, now.
Sunday, 3 April 2016
'They're beautiful.' You said quietly, wide eyes alight with wonder as I cradled the vibrant, dripping bouquet in my arms. 'I wish somebody would buy me flowers! Who are they for?'
'They're for me.' I smiled, 'why don't you get some for yourself?!'
'Oh... I couldn't do that- I'd feel silly! It's not even a special occasion!'
I drove home thinking about your forced, half-smile. The way you immediately denied yourself of the nice thing. How, in the look that followed, my 'me' was your wrong answer. I was odd to you. Selfish, perhaps.
Monday, 28 March 2016
(*Photo credit to L.Rutherford*)
Compliments. If you think a fellow human is a total bloody marvel, you ought to go bright-eyed and beaming in telling them. Your effortless words could create a positive space within their brain to think differently, give them that confidence boost they desperately needed, or simply punctuate their day with a moment of all-encompassing joy. Think her eyes are beautiful? Tell her. Love the way he talks with fierce enthusiasm about that awesome thing? Let him know. Reckon she's one of the most talented, soul-stirring writers you've ever stumbled across? Champion her! (Oh hey, Laura Jane Willams, you frickin' incredible woman...!)
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