…throw fear of success into a forgotten place and channel expression from a space of celebration…

start listening baby

Makenzi Martin

The hole

The individual tendrils of aged carpet licked my fingers with their soft tongues. When they knew I was lost in the moment of another sensation, they vined up my fingers and griped my hands before descending back below the floor. Like a crooked wick warms a single section of wax, one side of my body began to melt. I was a shapeless vessel draining down their soft stems, down to their roots buried deep in a pitiless vortex. Each moment held less form than my dissolving body. With each frantic grasp at consciousness, my body and time were partially renewed, only to helplessly melt again.

I was found in a field where grass replaced the synthetic arms of carpet. The grass too, vined up my fingers and consumed my body, but it reminded me not to fear. And without a fight, I decomposed into the warm soil where I found I had always lived.

-Aidan Sullivan

Pick apart my mind

Makenzi Martin


Aidan Sullivan

Leaving the Garden

My garden was perfectly maintained with pesticides and chemicals that made all of my plastic flowers look perfect. Everyone applauded my garden but they did not know the soil was calling for mercy, crying to be cared for.

When the scream became too loud and painful to ignore, I burned the garden down and ran to a barren desert with no beauty and no life. No desperate ground to scream mercy to my soul. No false flowers to fawn over and distract from pain that was asking to be treated. 

In time, my mind silenced, and I realized that this lonely desert also bore no fruit. So I sought the deep green forest where real life, full of passion, beauty, and fright, grew in and out of each other from every inch of singing soil. 

The risk of solitude whispered warnings from deep in the black trees. But in one moment, I found more companionship in the presence of the wild woods than I had ever felt in my perfect garden

-Aidan Sullivan

Art For a New Earth

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