2) art gallery
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1) N2N PHOTOS
You can either sign up for MySpace or borrow the access info below
a) go here: www.myspace.com/nexttonormal
b) click on "Pics" below the photo in upper left corner
c) sign in using this:
e-mail: kasamotophoto@aol.com
password: photo1
d) you may have to go back to www.myspace.com/nexttonormal and click on "Pics" again.
There are more than 200 PHOTOS!
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art gallery
fans' art, writing, poetry, photography, drawings inspired by N2N
It's Hurricane Season
The hurricane shakes the windows
I huddle on the couch
It surges through my body
Neurons fire, uncontrolled
It thieves from me the beings
Denies me what I love
The doctor says it is a dream
I will never quite be whole
Learn to live with it
It is a part of you
This season is your life
Respite
The room, it's in shambles
The rain drums the windows
The heartbeat is fainter
Once voices have ceased
Beleaguered by demons
Deliver their opus
Admire their handiwork
It's quite something to see
It's time for the pilgrimage
Land of your birth
Years spent in exile
Countries closed borders
Embark on the voyage
There's no way back home
Memory
What is to be done
the machine is outmoded
where do the cogs go
the spokes and the wheels
where is their home now
the factory shut down
What is to be done
it's becomes obsolete
don't hold on too tightly
don't let it go
it's best to forget it
but try to remember
What is to be done
the city is drowning
the life vests are heavy
but so are the cries
What is to be done
it's all placed in boxes
hold them in weary hands
they gather the dust
next to normal
heh, heh
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song: "Are You Alright?" by Lucinda Williams
images from a video put together for the song
Nothing’s more unfair than feeling nothing;
you can’t even miss the life you once had.
Still there’s that one nerve that fires that one spark
for just enough strength to keep you that sad.
So, even The Nothing hurts.
When a loved one dies, most people feel pain,
but imagine if there’s nothing inside.
You cannot feel grief, nor laughter, nor love.
You’re in a thick fog; don’t know if you’ve cried.
Still, even The Nothing Hurts.
You see a funeral
when you see Spring flowers.
You see a waste of time
in a precious day’s hours.
You taste blood and failure,
not the fruits of your wins.
You taste bitter judgment
when your sweet day begins.
You hear screaming children
when a bird above sings.
You hear gunshots rip flesh
when the noon school bell rings.
You feel a knife cut deep
in a hug safe and warm.
You feel violated,
not sheltered from the storm.
Put in a corner, your back to the world,
as if you’ve broken some unspoken rule.
The room empties out, the lights are turned off.
Nothing more lonely, there’s nothing more cruel
when even The Nothing hurts.
Just Another Poem
D.C. monuments: still and stolid, while
at Arena Stage: a rocky road ride.
The white buildings and straight lines of the Mall
are boring compared to the nuts inside.
Up-down-left-right, bright day and darkest night,
insanity and sanity collide.
Living on a latte and a prayer
and the moonstruck mood of a ripley tide.
Given permission to feel, free and clear,
a great gift to have laughed, as well as cried.
Living on a latte and a prayer
and the lessons of an N2N guide.
The Baker’s Wife
Perspective is about the “what if”.
What if the real ballerina in the music box
is the one in the mirror?
What if twirling backwards to the music
is what makes her beautiful?
What if the most remarkable moment of all
is her eating to her heart’s content?
Playing is about the “what you do”
when your brain cries in short-circuited gasps,
when the bread lands (of course) butter side down,
when the meadowlark sings itself to death,
and when you find you’ve starred in a play
in which the last act ends in tragedy,
but the audience is wearing comedy masks.
You strum, pluck, and play it away.
Charming is about the “what you see”.
What do you see in the flaring of his eyes?
I see the light by which I see my beloved.
What do you see in the baker burning the bread?
I see the twinkle in his eye as he starts again.
What do you see in a misunderstood musical?
I see a heartbreak that, when tears clear, propels.
You charm happiness into your keep when you keep
your eye on the bright, the beginning, and the brave.
(above poems by Lisa Kasamoto)
contact: lisa.k@nexttonormal.org
