It's Been A While

Hi friends, it's been a while.

Somehow, by the grace of God I managed to get through this semester in one piece, and with a decent GPA to boot. I can't take all the credit, as I was at  the mercy of my amazing professors and relying on the kindness of my friends to distract me and comfort me when I needed it. I reached out to them and managed to stay away from self destructive behavior which could have easily turned both me and my academic career into a hot mess.

Also -- I got an A on my first undergraduate Thesis! That's right, ya girl battled through depression, anxiety, several all-nighters, and lots of trial and error and somehow managed to make a cohesive paper. I'm still exhilarated from it, honestly.

Break has been wonderful so far. One of my very best friends who I have not seen in over two years is back in town, and I have been so hyped getting to spend time with him. I'm currently in D.C. cuddling up with my cat and Jeremy, which is delicious. We are taking the train back to Virginia tomorrow to celebrate Christmas with our families.

After everything, it's still not easy. Christmas is bittersweet and my family is still struggling in many ways, but I am thankful for the good things. I am thankful for what I have achieved so far, and for the deep love and selflessness I am shown every day from my friends and family. Y'all are the bestest.

I will try to post again soon and share my Christmas adventures! Stay tuned, or... you know... whatever the blog equivalent of "stay tuned" is.

Lissa

New Poem: Through The Looking Glass

Through the Looking Glass

Here, inside

Is the scent of death.

My mother said

The roses had died,

The roses have given their final breath,

The roses have bled

And turned white.

I thought I heard

A sound there

That hushed my cries.

Was it the coo of a bird?

Or your silly laugh? Your foot on the stair?

Or the heavy sighs

That you might

Hear from a weary old house

Settling in its tired foundation?

Yet in the mirror I swear,

In your minnie mouse

Pajamas, with boundless elation

I saw you were there

To kiss me goodnight.


This poem is property of Lissa Fulton and may not be used without written permission from the author

A Post I Didn't Plan to Make

When I was twelve, my sister found out that her newborn infant, Ailish, had a congenital heart defect and would need to have surgery right away or else she would not survive.

My family was scared, I was scared. My sister's firstborn, who was just about to turn three, didn't understand much of it yet. We picked her up from the hospital and as my mom strapped her into the car seat next to me I watched her sleepy little eyes droop and her slow breathing as the long drive home lulled her to sleep. All I could think was how precious she was, how lucky we were to have her there, healthy and alive. I thought, in that moment, that I would never take anyone's life for granted again.

But I guess in a way, I did start to take life for granted.

This weekend I had planned to drive home to visit my parents.

When I arrived, I had planned to see my sister and her kids. I planned to take pictures with Ailish, and her little brother. I planned to give them lots of hugs and try to make them laugh.

I didn't plan to anxiously wait for a phone call from my sister at the hospital, wondering if Ailish would come out of her coma.

I didn't plan to see my sister's firstborn, now a teenager, with her eyes welled up with tears after having witnessed her little sister's seizure, and after watching helplessly as my sister and father attempted to resuscitate her.

I had planned to pack up some of my winter clothes to take back to school with me, I had planned to check my mail and open the wonderful things I ordered from Etsy, maybe showcasing them on my Instagram and this blog.
I didn't plan to do all of these things while holding back the urge to collapse into tears, all delight I could have felt for any online purchase, no matter how lovely, now completely dissipated.

When I got back, I had planned to go to a Halloween party, drink some hard cider with friends and have a good time.

I did not plan to, instead, lay curled up in bed, knowing I had just lost my little niece forever. Knowing my sister had just lost the baby that for eleven years she had been fighting for.

In just a little under 24 hours, all of this happened.

It was just one day, and now our lives are emptier, lonelier. They still have to go on, somehow, but it hurts.

It hurts knowing I didn't get that last picture with her, that I will never see her again. It hurts knowing that eventually I will start to forget what her voice sounded like.

I forgot that her life was not guaranteed to us. We were so tremendously blessed to have had her in our lives as long as we did, she could have easily been lost to us much sooner.
And I don't believe in heaven, necessarily, but I like to think that Ailish is at rest now. Maybe she will live on in other ways, ways we can hardly fathom, or maybe she is truly gone forever -- but either way, she is resting now. The battle is over.

Thank you for letting us fight with you, little one.

Mid-Semester Update/Reminder to Appreciate Small Things

So far, this semester has been a blessing and a curse. I guess that is pretty typical for college. I have been so busy that the weeks seem to fly by, and I hardly have time to just stop and appreciate small things. This post is a reminder, to me and to you, to stop and remember the small things.

This weekend was especially busy. I finished my run as costume mistress for our production of John Cariani's Almost Maine at Fletcher Collin's, and rehearsed for Robin Hood is Dead a wonderful new play by Paul Menzer which will be having its world premier (fancy!) later this month.

I have a lot of big things to look forward to this fall. My thesis is started to come together at last, and I am about to start working on the bulk of it (wish me luck!)
Auditions for a really great play are coming up next month, which I am already preparing for. Also, Jeremy and I might have found our dream house (which we will try and rent if it is still available by the time we are financially able to start moving -- hopefully before Christmas!)

But those are all big things -- wonderful things! But big things. I want to also list a few of the small things. There are a lot of them, but I will mention just a few from the past week.

Making new friends, and strengthening old ones -- this is something I noticed happen today. It was just a conversation, a hug, a smile, but it was worth SO much.

The flowers on the side of the road (I took an awesome picture of them).

Fall in Staunton is too beautiful for me to explain, it's truly an experience. This town is so lovely.

Making art for Mab's Drawlloween Club!

The people who like and support my art. It honestly means so much, even just a simple comment or "like" on Instagram.

The people who compliment my clothes. It makes me feel like a million bucks. I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels that way so I try and return the favor whenever I can.

Evan Peters. He is just so good and talented, like damn.

My boyfriend Jeremy. He is okay, I guess. ;)
He also sends me pictures of Alastor, which make me SO happy.

Raspberry Zinger tea from Celestial Seasonings. Seriously, I love that shit.

Also, I just ordered the fabric for my Halloween costume! I will make a post about the process of making my costume once it is finished (so probably some time next month) stay tuned!

I feel like I need to keep this blog updated with more of my personal stuff, not just my poetry and writing (not that I plan to give that any less attention!) If all goes as planned, there will be more posts like this one in the future. :)

Lots of Love,

- Lissa

New Poem: A Rainstorm Under Two Inosculated Maple Trees

A Black Woman Speaks

In my African American Theatre class, we were fortunate enough to read Beah Richard's play, "A Black Woman Speaks." I thought it was powerful on paper, but watching it performed is devastating, and beautiful, and deserves to be shared with the world.



We live in a difficult and wonderful time in history, and I think it's important that activists and artists like Beah Richards are recognized, and their messages listened to.



I am, like Richards was, an artist and activist

I am, like Richards was, a woman. I will stand with all women, and I will fight for human equality.

New Poem: Tulip

Tulip

The tulip glistens

With morning dew

Its soft petals are flush

With rosy hue

It bends its neck

It feels your soft caress

It hears the secret wishes

You confess.

It does not know

What those fingers need

Or if your eyes

Are filled with greed

Or if your mother’s wisdom

Will bear fruit

Or if you’ll pull its stem

And tear its roots.

In you it plants

Hope of sunny days

Of cleansing, fortifying

Water sprays.

Will you give it a life,

A promise, a pledge?

Or have its juices

Stain your scissor edge.

The tulip glistens

With morning dew

It doesn’t know

What you will do


This poem is property of Lissa Fulton and may not be used without written permission from the author

A Weekend at Hogwarts

So for those of you who aren't familiar with the magical little town of Staunton, Virginia, I am about to learn you a thing.

First off, every second week of September is officially "Queen City Magic and Mayhem" weekend, where the entire downtown area becomes freaking HOGSMEAD FROM HARRY POTTER, along with a few other locations/made-up places based loosely on J.K. Rowling's Potter universe.

This is the town I live in. It's pretty awesome.

Because of the kind of person I am, I knew I would probably enjoy the event the most if I could volunteer at it. Luckily a local fiber shop was turning itself into "Hagrid's Hut" and was in need of some tour guides.

We were encouraged to dress up. I didn't need encouragement tbh

I made a character for myself named Margot (a Beauxbatons alumn). The older gentleman who co-owned the fiber shop kept forgetting my name and eventually began introducing me as "Lady Morgan, Lady of the Lake" so I just went with it (even though Morgan Le Fay and the fairy who gave King Arthur Excalibur which he seemed to be referencing are very different entities... aren't they? Does he know something I don't know? Does he know something he doesn't know? Do any of you know?)

The shop was absolutely beautiful, and the owners had created a "life size" paper dragon which they hand painted with reflective paint and bathed in UV light for an appropriately magical glow. He was a rakish fellow who managed to freak out more than a few small children. My kind of man.

large scaly boi, breathy fire boi, my good green boi

I did manage to steal some time and walk around town, of course. There were a LOT of people who attended (roughly 20,000 in a town whose population is only 24,416 according to Google) and it was kind of overwhelming, but the decorations and cosplays were on point.

There was even a 3D sidewalk chalk artist who made this in the middle of Beverly St.

There was a lot more that I didn't get pictures of but rest assured, it was such a fun and CRAZY weekend. It was like Halloween in September and even with the overwhelming crowds, I loved it and it went by much too quickly. Ya girl has to return to the muggle world now.

New Poem: Ballad of Bilquis

This post is slightly NSFW, even though I wrote it while at work *coughs awkwardly*

Ballad of Bilquis

In a nicotine stained bar room

On the corner next to the shop

With one-room flats rented up top

He waits, overstuffed, in the gloom;

That ragged wolf with eyes that shine,

That through urban prairies will creep

In search of some innocent sheep

To lure his way, to mark her fine

White wool with his sharp yellow teeth

And watch the light dim from her eye

And hear her desperate dying cry,

That wolf is now waiting for me.

And I meet his gaze with blushes

And I bare him my supple chest

He can imagine well the rest;

A Syrinx among the rushes.

And I give him a cherry smile

For the rank words slathered on me

And I will pout and I will tease

For every voracious and vile

Touch from his groping, greedy hands.

On the stairs we hurry up

I promise he may drink my cup

And rape and pillage all my lands

I promise to suck and to kiss

If he would please lie on this bed

And wrap my arms around his head.

He arches back in total bliss

Unaware of my eager blade

Till it buries beneath his skin.

Joyfully the blood may begin

To run, and his sick glimmer fade

But not before he sees his doom,

The face of all those he defiled

Bright with vengeance, flush and wild

The once consumed that now consumes.


This poem is property of Lissa Fulton and may not be used without written permission from the author

New Poem: "Underage Drinking"

A new poem for class (first draft, just like the last one)

Underage Drinking

At twelve I had my first taste

A bottle of Jack in leather

With hair like honey bourbon

It bit and stung but still I drank it up

I was hot blood, head dizzy,

An alcoholic animal

Fighting blindly

For a taste of forbidden fruit on the tongue.

At fifteen I thought was ready

To hold spiced rum

Warm in my heart

To sing songs to Bacchus and Smirnoff

With lips like liqueur

Spilling over my glass

I gorged on the taste

Of bitters dulled in rich fruit flavors

At four I tripped in the morning mist

Alone, groping for home

Mouth open to find

The last dregs in my cup all drunk up

A churning, fermented ocean

Rising in my belly

The sweet turning sour

And drunken memories wretched up on the floor



This poem is property of Lissa Fulton and may not be used without written permission from the author

Home at Last

Staunton, Virginia has become such a home to me over the past three years. It's beautiful, and mountainous, and full of creative people. It is also the first place I have established myself independent from anyone else. My sheets are on the bed, my rugs are on the floor, my knives and spoons and forks are in the drawer, etc.
It's funny how mesmerized I get by the idea of my own independence, the physical manifestations of it that I see every day. It's also ironic, because obviously I'm not here living completely independent from everything else! I have such an amazing support group at college which I don't know if I will ever be able to find again. I have friends who will pick me up when my car breaks down (Emily saved my butt that night), or buy me a cup of tea (too many of you to count), or give me granola bars and cookies when I'm running low on breakfast food (thanks Layla!)

But I think that's how life should be: A healthy mix of looking after one another and being looked after.

- Liss