Sarah Sanguin Carter

Life as Art

[sarahsanguincarter]

Love.

I want to lift you up to the highest place So high above this life we can't articulate The love that exists there, It's limitless. The love that exists now is primitive. It is raw. It is real. It is work To feel the depths of our capacity to forgive and commit,  To reveal the full reflection of the beauty we will breed. In love with you there is no bad. There is no good. What's in me is in you. Love is what’s true.  Connected securely to our hearts we can fly freely On the highest high through the lowest lows Dusting corners and cracks Clearing the path Spinning pain into gold Embracing good from the old Sharing stories that need to be told For our children's lives to unfold In awe and wonder. A beauty never known before The two of us. We. The three of us. Uplift To that place where dreams are true. It’s easier to see through you The light that is always shining Always guiding I'm proposing for this lifetime to be yours if you'll be mine To take a vow to always find our way back to the safety of our hearts In love with the depths of you, In love with your sweetness, In love with your strength, In love with your genius, In love with your craze, In love with your laughter, In love with your pain, In love with your greatness, In love with your shame, In love with your shadow, In love with your flame, Forever love… in blood. Our humanity is everything. We know All we can become is the most we have to give That's the life I want live With you.

[sarahsanguincarter]

BAT GIRLS

Fangs out, Eye to eye between stone walls, Sunlight warns the tips of our wings.

Like me.

You know.

Upside down,

Underneath the stars, There is nothing else.

Remember?

Stillness...

Barely breathing?

There.

In love...  

A death… another day. 

See?

Meant to dream... to fly a moonlit path...

Haunted by daylight’s violent games... Tired eyes.

Like me.

See?

There. There.

Dream… Like me.

[sarahsanguincarter]

NIGHT TRAIN

‘Rhubarb Pie’, my mother’s child, My father’s sin beneath my skin,

I give in to the rain.

I give in to the night train.

All those city lights… Like streamers. All the suckers fast asleep… The meek... 

I don’t belong.

I go.

Going going going going going going going ON Going going going ON Pretending. Shit. Here we go...

All the way...

To the stage! Hurray!  Hurray!

Applause! Applause! 

Another drink. I think. I think.

“Piece of pie, ‘Wonder Child’? Money making upper lip, Super chipper cheap trick, Tender loving puppy eyes…” Made me wonder why…

This race…

If the swimmers stopped to float…

Where would they go?

Without worry… To the moon? With the water… or without? 

Wheels screeching their highest note!

On the night train.

Far away… up… above… Him and Her… Again… I go… going going going ON

To this again… And them. Shit.

Him and Her and Them… Here again. 

They are me and I am them. Here again. 

Me.

My relentless destination… Where upon arrival 

The truth begins again and never ends.

[sarahsanguincarter]

RISE

in turn we take we lead we leave in wake we break the mold create in turn we rise we teach we lead we leave awake we rise we share in light in love we break the mold create in turn we take to give we’re here to feel to hold to love listen within listen within and rise to take your turn.

[sarahsanguincarter]

Angry Word

Leave me with an angry word to hold onto. An angry word is rarely a last. Like a stone in the ocean I will keep your angry word in my heart. Over time it will soften with waves of sadness, Crumble with vulnerability and become an indistinguishable grain of sand.

A piece of you.  

Leave me with an angry word to hold onto. I know you will be back. Like a cocoon,  I will trust your angry word and wait patiently 

I understand it is unfinished, unformed and on its way to a truth unknown.

A gem.

Leave me with an angry word to hold onto. As if to a kite string unravelling I will know you are not far, but flying off, up closer to the sun to burn in your own righteous glory. You are safe to fall, a crisp and scattered web of red silk, into my hand. I have been watching you behind dark and heavy clouds, feeling you, twitch and shake, purifying in the wet storm. Let me smooth your split ends as you rest in the softness of my steady pulse.

Be still.  This is love.

Do not leave me in silence, Weigh me down. I want to hold everything alive in you. Trust me. I am as strong as all my fathers and as deep as The Great Mother. Like the universe expanding Without gravity between our stars, distance only grows. Do not mistake that space between us for peace, my old friend. That air is deadly, thick with ambivalence blanketing a confusion so dense you will never find my eyes.

Do not turn away. Hit me.   I stepped into the ring with you, remember? We were smiling at each other from far corners, eyes locked, bandaging wounds from yesterday. I took off my cape. Look at me. I am naked and not afraid of your skin. Our fists are cushioned, remember? I intend to live through this. I want to taste my blood on your cheeks.  We are so close.

And now you give up?

I need your angry word, That darker shade of green, that glimpse of shadow.

It has been missing.

You see?

Against your silence, I am left with my own frail attempt to keep you... An impotent sketch longing for colors only you can stir. 

We have come this far.

Leave me with your angry word if that is all you have left for me. I will hold it faithfully as you rest in peace.

[sarahsanguincarter]

I’m not searching for meaning, or purpose, or happiness, or you, or it, anymore, but a deeper, and deeper, sense of peace with aloneness. The inevitable. 

I stare at myself these days... seeing nothing... emptiness overwhelming a tendency to perceive.  

At peace... I exist purely.

[sarahsanguincarter]

Why don't I believe you?

It doesn't matter what you say … I don't like the flavor of your tongue … soaking and swirling in a pool of jealousy and unworthiness … ignorance.

Your tongue is too pink … Stick it out for a while then try to speak … 

See how perfect your words are after you let your tongue hang out to dry in the bitter air, after you've let it burn in the sun, and soothed your raw and wounded flesh with that soft cheese you found perched on a mousetrap positioned on the sidewalk along some street paved with gold … Snap … Find your words now … 

How safe am I with you now? … Say it … Choose your words wisely my dear.

Let your tongue tremble with eruptions from your deepened heart and sing me something to make me listen …

Now …  I want to know how you really feel about all this … and me … unknown.

Who the fuck are you to say I am special? … Lick all their pretty salty cheeks and kiss me when you return … so I can taste the truth ... and them.

Tell me after you've sucked them dry …  that mine is the only sweat that can feed you from now into eternity ...

Now … tell me to stick out my tongue and let the world coat it and crack it … then tell me you like the way the world tastes on our lips. 

Say it … when I come home to you bleeding through my smile … 

Maybe then … I will believe you.

[sarahsanguincarter]

Inauguration

With closed eyes her tender body settles. She smiles to herself in bliss. Unfamiliar with her essence, The outside world violates this gentle inauguration. She grieves for never having met the simple pleasure of being.

[sarahsanguincarter]

Women Know War And Roses

Silently, We know our strength Mysteriously, We forget We abide We apologize We are too much We warn you Keep us small Keep us hidden Keep us separate Or else ... Get close and our blood will stain your finger tips. We teach With death … Life. With pain … Pleasure. We ache to protect innocence. We know the difference between what's real and reality. We sense moments that don't want to be heard or seen, and numb our tongues in the name of peace and safety Some days … We blush. It's beautiful To be a woman, To know beauty is to be in touch with every shade of it.

Sweat and tears under twisted tierras …

Sedimentary layers of life broken down into generations and restorations of gems kept, found, and passed on through dowries, and stories ... 

Glorious complexity unravelled by genius. 

Then, like sand thrown back into the sea by little angels we call our children ... 

We purify.

That is what beauty is. Grotesque labor distilling red pigment to paint simple sweet talk. That is what beauty is.

I know she knows. Her belly, her wrinkles, her warts and corse hairs Exposed ... She has held me and smiled. She has wrapped me in soft cotton, loved me and sent me off into the world infused with magic, black and white. She has told me without words ... My purpose is to build a home for what is to come To plant seeds in fertile soil, rich and facing the sun. Where there is nothing good, she has told me ... I exist to create. We all do. Destruction in our wake as we elevate all life.

To protect.

My mother has taught me everything I know. Forgive me, I drank her toxic milk, and my spirit knows war. Her spirit knew it better. She was the one who taught me to join hands, and never let go of my girlfriends ...

Swinging and singing in harmony down the open road to dreams coming true. She was the one who taught me to swim Splashing and laughing … While they march. Sisters, we are water. Powerful only in depth and unstoppable with collective force. We are moving mountains and reshaping the face of the Earth. It's true! Let's put our hands to our hearts and melt the cold words we have spoken to one another. Together … We can no longer hide, abide, or be set aside. Take pride. Bring life. Love ... Beauty ... Hope ... Give and share all of what we know ourselves to be. As bundles and bundles of roses We stand strong. They can't ignore the smell of truth.

Faith and forgiveness ...

We have served our time ...

Crying behind closed doors.

Now is the time to blossom ...

Conquer ignorance 

Unarmed

And make them stop to take us in ...

Seduction. 

Violence.

Dignity.

Depth.

Peeling away thick skin. 

Ripping into righteousness

And screaming until innocence is all that’s left.

Tenderly, we will kiss, encourage, and open ... 

Understanding 

And patient with Divinity.

With Love No matter what We will find the spark. Pure light ... It is right there ...

In each of us ...

And we are in every living thing.

This is our secret.

Our purpose ...

Creation

Deliverance

Growth

and Glory ...

We come and give and go with Grace.

We shine and shine and shine and shed and tremble to touch 

… to reach … to hold … to breathe ...

Greatness only takes a whisper to blossom.

Together … we serve. ~ S ~

PLEASE SHARE THIS WITH ALL THE WOMEN YOU LOVE …

[sarahsanguincarter]

A Force of Nature ...

He collects beauty. 

He doesn't let it go. 

He devotees himself to creation and recreation, 

Appreciation, 

Curiosity, 

And new ideas.

… he allows that which is provocative to turn him on.  

He keeps it all to himself.

She feels the depth of life within her and follows her heart, 

A force of nature. 

She collects nothing but rather has a sense of everything in each moment. 

All she is is beauty. 

She shares it.

They sit apart from one another in the same house at the same time. 

He's collecting information ... 

Searching and finding and keeping. 

She wonders how much porn he peruses, or if it's more than just perusing. 

She wonders if he's into men fucking men. 

She wonders if she's pregnant.  

Sometimes she just sits in front of her computer because he's sitting in front of his and she doesn't want to look like she's not doing anything other than thinking about him.  

She wonders if he competes with her focus when it's there ... or feigned … like she spins out around his. 

She wonders if he is more comfortable tonight because she's a little insecure.

She notices she's more secure when he shows those little signs of insecurity.

He wonders if she's happy.

Relationships fascinate her.  

Fascinate is an understatement. 

If she's not careful relationships haunt her, overwhelm her, overtake her ... they torture her.  

He wonders if she loves him.  

She wonders what he's thinking.

She is beauty.

He doesn't let go.

[sarahsanguincarter]

Be brave.

Somewhere in the distance I love you. A brokenhearted hero  In the darkness of a dream. Coddled by your strength, I melt. Be brave. Like, Sleeping Beauty, Locked away,  Waiting in a cloud of innocence. I trust. Be brave. Somewhere in the distance you're fighting, Pulling me through the deepest layers of my core,  And punishing me for not knowing my worth. It hurts. Be brave. Somewhere in the distance you'll love me. Unlock my heart and chase me when I run. Untie my wings and find me in the stars. Run your fingers though my hair and grab hold of what's yours to protect. Be brave. Somewhere in the distance I am warm in the softness of your soul.

[sarahsanguincarter]

It Started To Get Weird.

This story begins at the end of an illegal photo shoot in Topanga Canyon, California. We didn't have a license to shoot in the park, but fortunately, the very nature of our shoot was inconspicuous.  We were buried in the dirt, camouflaged by tufts of grass and moss. We were so well hidden our stealth production succeeded in running from 8am until sunset, which was much longer than we'd planned to endure.

At first, it was eerily comforting to lay in the shallow graves we'd dug for ourselves. There was a sense of being 'one with the earth'. At some point, however, it started to get weird. Maybe it was simulating mandragora roots for so many hours, or maybe it was simply having to control our bladders for that long, but by the time we emerged from the soil we were uncharacteristically loopy. The sight of us wandering around like drunk jolly green giants similarly tripped out our crew until the six of us were sharing in this naturally altered state.  It was a primal feeling, as if we were a bit too connected to the earth and its many wonders.

Perhaps we had successfully channelled the spirit of the mandragora root as we had set out to do.  It seemed possible that life would offer some kind of uncommon consciousness in such a scenario, exploring and embodying a rare myth. Whomever discovers the root and pulls it from its place in the earth will be blasted by a mind altering, if not death inflicting scream, but once the scream is endured the root offers a slew of magical and transformational remedies.

What you witness in our short may actually be this mystical energy expressing itself.  With little to no conceptualizing we whimsically became Mandrake, Mayapple and Nigrum under the spell of Mandragora.  We hardly had to communicate. We really were just playing. It felt as psychedelic performing as it looks in the edit. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rnpMcEJ6Rrg&list=UU_iTTC6RDL7u35gs1I4EiQQ

SANGUINDRAKE presents #Mandragora Starring #DavidDrake as #Mandrake , #SarahCarter as #Mayapple , and introducing #KevinBarth as #Nigrum Directed and edited by Kevin X Barth Produced by Sarah Sanguin Carter Camera Operation #DanielJung and #BradenFriedman Hair and Make Up#ShyannSwisher

[sarahsanguincarter]

Wrong.

I heard purring. I had been seeing and hearing things that weren't there more than usual the past four days. Due to my active imagination, it is quite normal for me to assume something exists which, in fact, doesn't. Maybe I'm being presumptuous, but I do think everyone hallucinates now and then. Right? You've heard and seen the non-existant, haven't you? I'm not schizophrenic. I worry about it though. I often find myself doubting my sanity. People can become paranoid schizophrenic in a moment. That's terrifying. Insanity, to me, is more haunting than death. So, I've been watching it. You know, like, I heard purring where there was no identifiable source and I started to break it down.

I tried to deduce whether or not I was hallucinating, or if there was some cognitive explanation other than there being a purring cat in my vicinity, which I didn't initially exclude as possible. When I heard the purring this morning these were my given circumstances; I was scrolling through Facebook and I saw a picture of my friend holding her new kitten, who I had met, held, and who had purred in my lap just yesterday. At the time I heard the purring, I remembered I had also knocked the kitchen table where I was sitting, which could have made my breakfast plate rumble against my laptop, like a purr. So, perhaps the sound of the plate vibrating registered as purring in my mind because I was simultaneously looking at the picture of my friend's kitten and remembering the sound of it purring. I reacted to hearing purring by wondering if there was a cat in my kitchen before my rational brain kicked in with reasonable doubt.

This kind of misconception must happen a lot, and in situations where we might not even think twice about what we imagine to be true … overhearing conversations, assuming we hear things correctly, reacting emotionally to misunderstandings, and formulating false conclusions to justify our feelings, or in some cases, our behavior. Reacting to something that didn't happen is often considered insane when even for the most level-headed among us it's a common occurrence. Some of us are super charged with imagination, complicated wiring, rich with emotional memories, and some of us don't yet have dominion over our extremely sensitive natures. There are a number of reasons why we might be inclined to creatively interpret life.

If we can confront our propensity for drama with openness, courage and enough humility to explore the finer details of the reality at hand without clutching righteously to our experience, then we have a hope in hell to build self-trust. Otherwise, we get stuck in scenarios that keep us hovering above any kind of solid foundation, grasping for collusion or self-sabotage to hold us down:"No, really, I swear, there's a kitten in the kitchen! I heard it. Help me look! Are you calling me crazy?" Either that, or pleading insanity: "I must have real problem. I actually heard purring. It was loud. It was real. I'm scared. I need to see a neurologist. I am no longer capable of functioning responsibly. I need medication."

As much as we don't like to admit it, I wonder if we can all relate to reluctance to the middle ground. We hesitate to take the time to break apart the pieces of our absurd puzzle work, to discover a simple missing piece or an obvious truth revealed when care is taken to fit the pieces together a different way. This process is especially difficult when our faulty interpretation of reality inspires drama. After an elaborate display of emotional conviction, mundane explanation can be quite humiliating.

This sobering realization was what hit me hardest this morning.  Once my rational brain decided there was no way I could have heard an actual cat purring,that there was no cat in my kitchen, then my paranoid tendency piped up to convince me I was going nuts. I skipped over the middle ground, the grey area, the complexity, the individual puzzle pieces, because therein lies the greatest threat of all; to be wrong, not crazy, not right, but wrong.

Being wrong is the hardest position for us dignified human beings to accept. We are open to believing the most outrageous bullshit to justify our actions, or legitimize our feelings. From this point, I could go on and on and on. I might even be onto a great thesis I should revisit at some point:'The extent to which we avoid logical understanding and simple explanation to maintain our irrational and inappropriate emotional and behavioral experiences as rightful, is devastating. Avoidance of open and grounded consideration of that which may make us wrong is destructive not only to ourselves, but leads to justification of violence and corruption in society.'

All I set out to express here today, however, is my personal triumph this morning. I heard purring, and I am proud to have proven myself only to be wrong, and not to be insane.

[sarahsanguincarter]

Guest House. 

[sarahsanguincarter]

I AM A DANCER

This is me.  This is me dancing for you.  This is you.  This is everything.  To be witnessed with my arms wide open,  My chest rising and falling to the rhythm of the universe, My universe within, The universal rhythm In me, for you, to see.  To feel.  You. Trusting the sounds and shudders, erupting beneath me.  Beneath you?  Knowing my shell will eventually break  Into a million tiny particles.  I might even hurt you.  Surely shards of my armor will get in your eyes. Dust, unwelcome in the cracks and dark corners of your body, Will find their way into you, and rest.  Stand close and watch my walls crumble. Pieces of me will fly into your ears Between your toes and your teeth And so far into your lungs  They will dissolve there and be  With your every breath. If you stand close to me while I dance I will crawl under your skin and never leave you.  I am so naked so raw so shiny so wet you will see it all. I mean you.  You will see you.  See all the parts we share,  That slithery helpless part  We have necessarily taught to walk and talk and clothe and intellectualize and house and shut up and shut out and focus and wade and wait and work and work and work and work … To protect. Relax. Uncover. Discover. See?  My dance is a glass calm reflection.  You forgot what it felt like to dance without moving. I am dancing Without stopping,  Without saying no,  Without trying to get it right.  You pretend, I am not like you when I move like this.  When I make these sounds,  You put your hands over your ears,  You turn your back.  This dance is dangerous,  It's crazy,  It's humiliating,  It's primal,  It's unsophisticated.  This dance will shatter everything we've worked for. This dance feels so fucking good There is no turning back.  Heroin. Not you? You don't touch the stuff? You've never wondered? You're not a dancer?  I am a dancer. Hahahahahahahahaha.  We all are. We hear the same chords, the same dissonance,  Like it or not, we are in harmony. This is the song.  We sound like this. We look like this. We smell like this. This is it. Like it or not. You're a dancer. Dance. The universe rocks us all with the same basic rhythm.  Move. Feel. Sing. Let me in. Let me see. I am curious. This is my dance. Watch me. Wonder.  Show me. This un-crafted dance takes no skill, only courage.  You have it. Surrender.  Let go, … Practice.  This dance is joyful, graceful, tender, and wild.  This dance doesn't end once it begins,  Of course,  It takes endurance and that initial leap of faith.  The first step is simple.  Say yes …  To everything  … every ugly spastic movement,  Every sensual impulse,  Every blissful explosion.  Then trust.  Trust you are good.  Trust you are beautiful.  Trust in your completeness.  In your total freedom,  You are love.  Trust your deepest desire is only to learn,  You are curious.  You are playful.  You are a creature of the universe.  Your only purpose is to play your part. Trust your steps will be toward compassion. This is all you are.  You are intrinsically connected to everything and everyone.  This dance is only good.  It is everything. It is wonderful.  Wonder. Let yourself be in it ...  Your greatness,  Your generosity,  Your light.  Your heart and your eyes will open wider to keep you alive  Moving the way you are.  You'll have to be stronger,  Everyone needs you.  Everything relies on you.  You deny it? I am your mirror. Dance for me.  One day you will forget I'm there. You will be alone on stage. You will make the universe weep. Your audience will be so in love with you They will grieve for having lived without you. They will long for more of you. At that perfect moment, Your moment, You will erupt. You will explode. You will shine so bright Those brave enough to keep their eyes on you will see rainbows. Those brave enough to feel you will stand for you, Scream for you, Dance for you. This is my dance. I am dancing for you. Dance with me.  You are wonderful. Teach me. The truth,  … and nurture.  It is sweet.  It is powerful.  It is in rhythm, In time, We grow. I am a dancer.  I am dancing for you.  This is my dance.  This is me dancing for you.  This is you.  This is everything.

~ S ~ 

Photo Story by Susan Yee http://www.susan-yee.com