carte blanche.

in the land of crosses, the treasure remains. 
thine eyes shyly
peering over the edge, looking upon the page-
       --stained with false icons;
               a misprint of time.
just some free-spoken letters in a row
good_but not enough to 
                    resist this 
          /humbled/fumbled/ unprovable leap of (dis)belief
                   churning what's actual to
                   quell our shine and 
                   release my hand, for thy desires turn 
                              these fickle sails 
                                       that guide the way.

(un)familiar light

After 36+ hours of being awake and an array of experiences, I found myself, once again, driving over the First Street Bridge in LA... but this time at a moment where the usually busy streets were mostly quiet and the sun was just beginning to tint the morning horizon.
Compelled to capture this instance of flux that seemed to mirror my thoughts (as if the universe just knew), I parked my car and walked back to the bridge and watched as a familiar light rose to reveal a world I'd never seen before.

(un)familiar light, originally uploaded by RBRamage.

Making Lines

Making Lines from Rebecca Ramage on Vimeo.

This was a project I did for class, featuring the work and insight of my talented friend, Christian Ramirez.

Click Here to be dazzled by more of Christian's work!

A review of Making Lines:

"Having known Christian for over a decade, this, without a doubt, has managed to capture his essence... in a mere six minutes.

Christian has never been interested in displaying what's beautiful, hip, or flattering. He has always striven, with rigor and without pretense, for truth. Truth in the simple line, and the brevity of our presence."

je me rappelle.

oh, to know that
vibrant glow,
bath of blue and
to feel
crooked
loud
warm
intense and wanted.
all the while, operator:
this on//off machine
stuck
on loop,
one
heart
one
last drag
things move faster,
windows down, through our curves and twists, volume up
carefully, concisely, matter of fact-ly
lust.

In each moment.

Harriet Phyllis Burke, my grandma.

Such a bright, brave heart; always with me, she goes.

|ˌpa θ əˈjenəsis|

             all the blurring lights
and streaming rays of smearing color, 
resemble the inhale - exhale, loop by loop, ascending.. 
just to repeat.
    this pause in the silent flurry -- 
those creaky automatic doors, mechanics rasping, jar open,
 and the stranger asks if i'm alright. 

                 had thine eyes been warning me? 
          // hesitate   hes\i/tate \\

      before the beat... before the green.. 
             and the pace is set again, 
structures and people, time and effort
                                in slashes of motion// 
a blink to eclipse my naiveté ::: 
::: for those quickening footsteps can't be my own?
                                           slow to listen
                    all is silent darkness. 
     where is up? 
   no time to choose.
the murky sky sighs to remind me 
that stars exist outside of your eyes..
.. and this fog moves in, 
like a spiny sea urchin through the enclaves of my senses,
      creeping...       c r e e p i n g .... 
                                         tell me, will it 
                                                    stop?