a world created by the dance of my hands.  With grace and humility, I'll perform my dance for thee.  For best results, please set your view text size to "smaller."
				WITH THIS SITE I INTEND TO STATE MY WORK’S PURPOSE; however, at the moment my mind wanders and flowers and twists and turns, and I am unable to pin a poetic thought of it down. I do not know if I will be able to take lingual control enough of my purpose to wrap it up and send it to you, my reader and patron. Indeed, I wish to impress upon you who I am. For as long as I may, I will struggle to offer sincere words, vivid photographs, and graceful phrasing. See, here: it all started when the world flipped over and the contents of my life spilt to the floor piece by piece. What was light became dark, what was sweet became sharp, and all that was good rotted. What I cared about suddenly disappeared, and the small things of the world I hadn’t before noticed were big, powerfully present, and very much needing to be known and understood. The people I loved changed; the stars changed; the moon changed. I watched these events happening, and I felt a raw, hot terror. My mind burst as into flames, and the soul followed. I didn’t know how to deal with these events, this strangeness, this journey called Truth, or Life. I stopped enjoying myself. I stopped laughing, singing, and almost speaking. I ate little food and got very thin. I became a human doll void of breath and artistic inspiration, or the dance. Then, I was suddenly very hungry. I wanted everything: beauty, appreciation, money, noise, fame. I moved to California to be a movie star, but had no desire to shine. I worked menial jobs. I started eating again. I ate everything in sight. Bulimia. I got fat and pretty. The men watched the curves of my body grow with dark, mad eyes. I contemplated those eyes. I considered being a stripper. I smoked too many cigarettes. I obsessed about the coming of death and dying. Blackness. Loneliness. I came home to Pennsylvania. I got an office job and hated it. I moved to New York City to be an artist, dancer and poet: a woman free and spirited and independent and alive. There, in the city, I almost felt calm; I was becoming myself again. Then I started to ache for literature, for words and lingual expression. I ran home to my mother. On this website, I offer myself to you. You are my purpose. I have little money and few resources. I have my past actions, my hopes for the future, and my eager mind of today. I would like to earn a Master’s in English and Comparative Literature. I want to learn the beauty that is language. Language, the thing that separates us from the animals. Language, the thing that proves our humanity, wit, and mental sophistication. As a woman of this world, I need to be recognized as a worthy being, female and artist. I’ll require the training and validation that further education can provide. I'll also require your attention and support. Somehow, I’ll gather together all the credentials needed to be whom I dream to be: She, the woman in white standing proudly at my window; She, the woman from my youth who has been watching me with dignity and grace all the years. At this moment, my writing hand holds a blue plastic pen. The pen scratches along the page leaving dainty little squiggles which form words. I have become fanatical about the shapes and meanings of those squiggles, and also about the whiteness of each new page. At 27, I have young eyes, awesome dreams, and a humbled and aged body. I have shortcomings, faults and stupidities. I have unknowns. I have everything and nothing all at once. Yet, it is language which is the thing that so inspires and ignites that I’ll say goodbye to all other vices should I be blessed with the opportunity to conquer the ways of its great way. I’ll make this human world proud. I’ll give my writing, art, energy and soul. I’ll give and give and give, to you, to you, to you. .. . . I would like to extend a special thank you to my brother and financial advisor, Adam Eyth, for purchasing this website for me, and for helping me in so many ways. VISITOR