But I’ll be up all night until I know you’re alright. You set this town on fire, you melted the ice.

I have always been obsessed with conjoined twins both aesthetically and psychologically. This is a photograph I took of myself a few days ago imitating one of my favorite concepts.

It has been nearly a year since I updated this blog.

Perhaps it was simply that I was facing most of my demons by turning them into something beautiful on paper. When I stopped updating this blog I was knee deep in charcoal and imagery.

To this day it has always been easier for me to speak with images than with words.

Where have I been?

Or rather, where should I begin?

In the past year I have-

Had a near death experience, which was very severe and the love of the one who caught me mid seizure helped me escape that strange abyss of stars and subconcious.

Become obsessed with out of body experiences, conjoined twins, cycles of life and death, gypsies, dreams, and healing from the inside out.

Become a blonde (my hair color naturally is a weird dark blonde/light brown so going really blonde didn’t look that odd as you can see in the photograph above).

Become much more angular physically, more bones than girl; but  at the same time I’ve become much softer and more understanding internally. Strange how our hearts can either turn cold or grow warm with time (luckily mine became warmer).

Turned 23 on april 8th.

Have had the greatest pleasure in making friends with people who are truly talented and supportive. I have learned a lot from them.

Participated in a group show in Tokyo *two paintings were exhibited*

Gone to school, studied science (anatomy and the female reproductive system, as well as the process of the formation of the fetus in utero in particluar), and then left.

My mother, who I have written about a lot, was in a car accident this summer-in her already frail state she slipped into a coma, woke up, had a tracheostomy which limited her communication further, cannot move, in the hospital.

And despite all of that, she’s still the most beautiful person I know.

I learned a lot about what love really is, about pain, and about my own heart and its fragile tendencies.

I went to los angeles, portland, seattle, and new york.

I am in new york.

I make most of my living off of my illustration and tattoo design work.

But I could not do that without the help of those I love.

I will have to start posting on here as much as I can again.

For now I will leave you with something I wrote awhile back, seriously months ago….and I have the answers to the questions that I ask here now…and understand that love goes far deeper than the left ventricle, and that by facing my darkest fears I am no longer afraid. Love forces you to face yourself and grow.
This was written during a time when I was questioning linguistics and the power of words-and how easily words can be twisted and misunderstood.
You see what you want to see.
Which causes one to question, what is truth then? What is really there? Do we see the same thing?

I am very happy to be alive even in these difficult times.

They say parents with baby girls have bad karma….

Over and over I pick at a wound that never seems to heal. It reminds me of my mother’s bedsores, always fresh and carrying within the smallest vessel the threat of death, a constant reminder that life is never really fair.

I don’t even know what to think anymore. I read once that the left mind is adept at language but unable to determine a situation by sight, while the right mind can capture everything in a visual space but be unable to put it into words…carrying mysteries and a dialogue between the two sides that doesn’t always work. Apparently when there is damage to the left side of the brain females are more likely to recover and regain the ability for language more often than males.

The concept of communication is tricky. I’ve lived in countries where I had a limited ability to verbally communicate, but communicated more honestly visually. Straight and to the point.

I did my best modeling jobs for companies that did not speak any english, save for “move to the right. look at the camera” it was all gestural posing, all hands and eyebrows.

Language is strange, it unfolds in a way where things can get lost between the periods and spaces. One can pick apart and dissect a conversation and never really understand what was said.

The concept of lying is something I will never fully understand. One often lies when they are afraid, or trying to protect something. But then there are lies that are deliberate, cruel, and out of spite. I had never really experienced the latter, although the former was always familiar in some sense.

In the past year the shell of belief that I held cracked. I found that suddenly the foundation I had built for myself was false, a complete delusion. I realized what true loneliness was, in a sense betrayal left me alone more than death could. Perhaps it was a death in its own right, a death of the life I thought I was living.

It’s funny how selfish people are, how impossible it is for them to comprehend the effects their actions have on others. For some, the only person who matters is themselves. I wonder if that is the loneliest place to be? Or are they fullfilled in this manner?

A large part of me was cracked open this past year and taken apart. I felt like one of the bodies in the anatomy classes of Versalius, open in the middle of a stadium for all to see. Perhaps it was like that, perhaps I was just some study for the ones who performed the procedure. Here was my heart, watch how thin the layers of the right atrium are when punctured. The human heart thrives on an all-or-nothing law and, if stopped, the entire body will shut down within a matter of minutes.

And then you wonder why I had such difficulty in maintaining function once you had pulled on the aorta and eaten away at the left ventricle? Once my chest had been cracked open for the simple concept of study?

Humans are complex and yet so simple in their departure.

I have spent a long time trying to pull my heart out of the jaws of a coyote ever since that initial dissection.

You you you-could mean so many things;

Death, destruction, lies, cruelty, the blackest parts of winter….

or love.

oh and through my dark dark winters I finally understood the concept of color.

My work, which was mostly charcoal before (which I also loved for its own sense of luminescence.) is now drenched in soft, colorful tones….like light through a prism.I have a lot more.

Some links to check out-

for my stuff (more art, etc)





for some people I admire (just a few for now, I will post more later.)







I will post more soon, no more hiatus.



~ by volatilestructure on April 12, 2010.

10 Responses to “But I’ll be up all night until I know you’re alright. You set this town on fire, you melted the ice.”

  1. Nice tattoo pic. Can I use it on my blog?

    • oh thank you-yes sure just send me the link.
      you can credit me by linking here. ^_^

    • also i designed all my tattoos–that deer is a very special drawing of mine, which in a way might be an interesting side note.

  2. you’re amazing. this is really strongly written. I can’t wait for the daily writing!!

    • i love you.
      i got your package! ryan was like, wow she’s really talented, these are beautiful.
      and they are!
      sending you something back.

  3. I love you lil one…so wonderful to read your ‘depth’…we have experienced the open heart syndrome…no fun for the living…mine had been going on for over 7 yrs., and yes I survived…barely… I 1ove the way you worded the feelings of ’emotionally numb and broken’. Related big time Mika…I am as you…on the mend…life is for living, sick of the ‘hollows’ who somehow ‘enjoy’ seeing people squirm.
    hugs and so much love,

  4. afterthought…I was a bit overwhelmed in regards to the news of your Mother’s newest struggle. I am Blessed for being alive and I do tell myself daily I am grateful but Mika I do/have/almost certainly still will take my life for granted…hard to explain why, just it is how I tic inside I am my worst enemy. I try to help everyone else but myself,always putting myself last, woke up one day and shit. I’m 52…UGH Bless your Mother…my goodness, how does so much sadness fall upon individuals…one day I hope I can understand this…btw, I’ve called you a few times with the NY # and never connect.
    I love you Mika,
    you are a very special human,

    • jo-
      you have been inspiring to me and your support and belief in me has helped me so much these past two years….i think that you definitely live life in such a beautiful way, all of your photographs i’ve seen, the tender ability you have to find art and beauty everyday, and your empathy and compassion for others–these are rare gifts.
      my mother is the core to what keeps me going, even if she does not know it…i have a hard time expressing it to her in words so images, the paintings i’ve given her are my way of really telling her, she’s always surprised by what i produce…but i hope that the pretty paintings and the stars i’ve made that hang in her window catching light at the hospital give her hope when she wakes up in the morning.
      i know i would not be trading comfort for the sake of following my dreams as an artist if i were not dealing with what i’ve been dealing with, i realized a long time ago that life is too short to wait for things to happen…you have to take risks, even if they scare you.
      i’ve just been so blessed along the way, with so many friends and souls from all over who have helped me.

      but what keeps me going even more is when people tell me their own stories.
      it just means so much to me.
      i think i should write my next blog about that.

      anyways, you’re beautiful.
      i know we will meet one day.

  5. I love you up to the sky!!

  6. hope this year conjoins your broken parts again!

    i always loved your art!

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