Steph Davies: Words.

"home is a place you grow up wanting to leave,

and grow old wanting to get back to"

-John Ed Pearce

I'm working on a book and online gallery project, if you feel inspired, please feel out the included survey and send it in to the email address shown, thanks!
The Home Project

Please answer any of the following questions that you feel inspired to answer and send it in to: homeproject@stephdaviesartmusic.com Please sign here as your first name or “anonymous” depending on how you would like to be credited in any future publication:

1. How would you define “Home”?





2.Are there any songs that reflect an idea of “Home” to you (please list title and artist and if you’d like, any reasons as to why)





3.Are there any quotes about “Home” that you find especially relevant (please list quote and author of the quote and if you’d like, any reasons why you find this quote about home to have relevance)





4.Are there any books or stories about “Home” that have a place in your heart?






5. If you’d like to send in a drawing of “Home” and whatever that looks like in your eyes please include your name and mailing address here & Steph will send you a blank postcard and a return envelope so you can send her some artwork (your work will be included in an online gallery and considered for later publication)



Thank you so much for participating in this survey for the “Home Project” for all the latest news on this & other projects please stay tuned to www.stephdaviesartmusic.com or follow her on twitter www.twitter.com/stephdaviesart

found a black, black feather

in the white, white snow.

entangled in my lover's lair

you'll find remnants of my hair

and notes that he's left hanging there

a feather I have drawn.

massage therapy

muscles turned from hardened steel

to soft masses of pillow soft

Four hours less of the work week

shall I say or shall I go (now)

Tom Waits family portrait album

farwell to our fine furry kitty houseguest.

Everyone needs a feather in their cap.

I feel like I'm standing on the edge of something

the edge of everything, really.

With a soft-spoken confidence

that if I fall, I'll fly.

And with these wings,

I'll soar.

balloons floating up in the sky

entangling themselves in the power lines

causing a burst of light-

explosion of fireworks

lights out

It's a brand new year.

decisions to make

options

choices

a whole map of paths to choose from

ink pen in hand

a lovely kitty guest to draw portraits of

feeding carrots to the elk

getting up close with the buffalo

the lazy haze of the post-holiday

mini peppermint patties

the subliminal silver lining

home for the holidays

christmas turkey dinner

storage unit reality tv

cuddling up for warmth

chocolates & caramels & sparkling wine

christmas eve

buttons & long hair

white elephant weddings

old men who toss their batteries into their shopping baskets with flair

flying home

the blackbird bar

pinball quarters

snow

the walking dead

"she knows"

guitar strums & photobooths

Tonight at dinner...

Matt: "You have the prettiest eyes"

Me: "Oh, Thanks!"

Matt: "They're so big and happy and sad at the same time."

idea: a book of firsts

two days off to look forward to

payday means new art supplies

a trip to waukesha to look after kitty

mulled cider

baby pictures of Matt to put in my locket

when waking up feels like sleeping in

the cold is bearable

radiohead on store speakers

the way it feels when everything starts to fall into place

leaving presents for people

a pocket full of change coming on

eleven days to Christmas

(I'm not counting down, I just know)

sunrise dance parties that cause my brain to unravel from its sleeping nest

the sun is shining & it casts shadows on the cold winter ice

latenight pinball adventures & photobooths carry on from the night before

I've got to find a box big enough.

cold wind burning through my veins

racing a clock with no hands

waiting rooms-how could I have expected not to wait?

snow & ice & salt

old U2 songs on the muzak

(singing me to wake)

christmas cards are starting to arrive in the mail

a forgotten piece of artwork (look up & there it is)

The Beatles' White album

the sound of snow being shoveled

it's cold as hell

(I know.)

Love

A woman fell in love with a man who had been dead a number of years.

It was not enough for her to brush his coats, wipe his inkwell, finger his ivory com:

she had to build her house over his grave and sit with him night after night in the damp cellar.

-Lydia Davis

I highly recommend The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis...beautiful short stories, can't get enough.

kickstarted!

recommended reading

sun reflecting off the snow

so cold you grow numb & then almost start to feel warm again.

finding inspiration in the album artwork of Likkey Li,

an artist I've never really heard of or listened to,

but there's this collage element & I'm really interested in it.

walking to work

snow underfoot

thinking about my ever-growing hat collection

remembering how to breathe (1, 2, 3)

and the release that comes

the relief that comes

Thinking I should meditate

(which is, in itself, a kind of meditation)

and on it goes

and so it will.