I want a different body, but I'd rather have a mind that didn't care.

Victoria Secret says I'm a 35D. I'm pretty sure I'm an artist.

I've never wanted my boobs to define me, never thought they could. Recently, I realized how very much a part of me they are. How the shape helps to make the woman. Only looking at me, at my breasts, the story isn't visible to the random passerby. My boobs do have something to say. It's time the world heard them.

Mold #1 already sold at: a production of The Vagina Monologues, 2006



There are two briefly stated reasons why I am making molds of my boobs and attempting to sell them with fifty percent of the profits going to benefit the American Cancer Society. First of all, for those members of my family, any friends, and generally anyone who suffers, or has suffered from, some form of cancer. Second, for myself - to attempt something worthwhile and take a risk that although it may seem small to others, leaves me vulnerable in that moment when I open the page for viewing. Nothing quite like asking others to like and buy what's mine.

You'd probably have to be pretty strange to buy a random pair of boobs online, or pretty cool, in my opinion. Not only will the money go toward a good cause but you'll have a great talking piece for the coffee table, perhaps a fancy new candy dish, or just a great rack. However you look at it, at them, you can't lose and you can certainly give.

Follow the link to the right, "Buy me," for my eBay profile which also answers that question, "why?" In fact, go ahead and explore all those links.


Tomorrow may never come...

Imported directly from my Myspace profile you can see that I spend quite some time worrying that tomorrow will come too late…

Check this. I've been thinking about how pointless I find everything most of the time. How on any given day all I want is to go somewhere and start living because it feels like I'm just rotting in this skin. But moving takes guts and leaves people behind. That dream I have, the one almost every friend has too, the one where I move to the new city and have a real life, meet new people, miss old people, become a new person... I keep saying after I graduate, someday, but there's that song and someday never comes. My goal and declaration here is that I will not run away someday, but that day. This is where I hold myself accountable for the misery I encounter for not making that day, today.

In other aspects of the phrase… it was Memorial Day not too long ago. Those we love gone and going… The thought that this sunset could be the last I'd ever see makes me long to watch it with arms wrapped around friends… friends I haven't spoken to in weeks. Did I tell them I love them? My niece is only four, I haven't gotten to know her, nor her I… it feels like there isn't enough time in the world for all the people I want to love. But perhaps time is man-made and I can stop counting minutes and start writing emails. Tomorrow may never come so I'll value each day, my entire life, and try even when it's hard, when it hurts, to remember the times I wanted to live and the people I have and will love.

And here's a chest to hold this thought.

Mold #10 sold: $10 donated to the American Cancer Society


A song

~my inspiration

There was a time when I sang the body electric… when I found soul and dreams more important than thin beauty. The more I sang the more my own body shown, the more the universe within whispered through. But of late I run and eat for all the wrong reasons and I'm not buying any love. No matter what shape a person becomes, a thought, a feeling, can alter the view, not just out, but coming in.

Walt Whitman sang the body electrified by soul, words, and passion. A body is a home, a woman, a man, a future - no matter the shape, color, or wear. The body portrayed in the magazines and movies of today is less of a "divine nimbus" and more a tribute to meat than soul. We speak more than words, but entire galaxies with the motions and postures we extend.

The body is not meant to be seen for the bra or waist size, but for the universe of soul it reflects, hides, is. I'm tired of wanting your judgment, apologize for how I've let myself fade… I too, will sing the body electric again.

~ Walt Whitman "I Sing the Body Electric."

Mold #9 sold: $31 dollars donated to the American Cancer Society


all said with love...

I'm so sorry I ever hurt you. I hate that you kissed her. I hate you for making me cry. Because I'm jealous, because I hurt, because I'm alone…

I wanna make promises, I wanna say forever, and even if it falls to shit that's how I'll live because it makes you stronger. Hold me…

I hate you, for making me hate myself. Regret. Memories. Let go already! I just want to go back to the way things were…
Maybe we're through. Make me feel again, anything. Why don't you want me? I love you, I think about you all the time…
I feel pink. Torture…
With love, more than I ever would have imagined.

Am I the one holding the needle?

Mold #8 sold: $10 donated to the American Cancer Society