Across the Universe, between the spaces in my mind... is love, thought, peace, freedom, truth, and beauty. Within these things are inspiration, wonder, and endless possibility. Life is never-ending, always moving, always changing, always only in the moment...   "Pour your heart out" it says.   But what if your heart only thinks, or bleeds, or whatever else? What if its all your heart CAN do?   There are so many questions in this life... complex and simple, real and surreal, answerable and some never able to answered by anyone at any age or mind level... ever. These are the questions that can drive a person to insanity. For some people, just some, NEED to know no matter what... and some are content with just living. Able to sit back and say with complete ease to those hungry people...   "Let it be."           I don't know where this came from or why I wrote it. All I know is that I was listening to the song Across the Universe, covered by Rufus Wainwright, when these ever confusing words just flowed onto the page. I don't know what my sub-concious mind was trying to relay out to all of you, but if you have any ideas... PLEASE feel free to tell me what you think. I'm always up for thoughtful conversation...     Peace & Love,   Kaity T.

Between the space…

...Kait... • Apr 24th • 7 comments

if anyone has some... please send them to me at i'm making a collage for that night... and i want to include them... thanks everyone :) hope all is well!   ~kait

new years photos.…

...Kait... • Feb 17th • 1 comments

January 3rd, 2009 You know that saying, "You don't know what you got till its gone"? Well, today i understand, once again, what that means. On December 27th, 2008 a man very dear to my heart passed away. His name was Sponto and he died of a heart attack at age 59. I know thats not exactly young, but its not old either. Nobody was expecting this to happen. Nobody was ready for this. It hit us when our backs were turned, and there was NOTHING we could do to stop it. He died in his art gallery all alone. No one to call for help. No one to hear his last words. No one to say I love you. It was an unfair death in my opinion, but i must accept that everything happens for a reason. I'll be honest, I never had the chance to truly get to know him as one adult to another... but even so i know i love him and i will never forget him. You see Sponto was one of a kind. :) You know those people you meet, the ones you may never see again but ALWAYS remember? Sponto was one of those few people. Even though most of my memories with him are from when i was a kid, he will live on in my heart and my mind as long as i am living. He had one of those unforgettable spirits. Only full of Joy and Love and Kindness. Sponto was an ANGEL on this earth... and now i believe that he is an angel up above watching over all who cared for him. He was an amazing man and i'm sorry to those who never met him... You missed out on some great memories. Never over-look the time you have with loved ones, for you NEVER know when they'll be gone. Tell them every single day that you love them, you'll regret it if you don't. I know i do. I should've called more, i should've kept in touch. But i can't change that now... but i CAN change how i act to others who are still here with me. I'm sorry to all of those i haven't talked to or seen in a while. You know who you are. I'm sorry i haven't been there for you as much as i could have. Just know that i will change and look forward to catching up with each and every one of you. Also know that if you ever need anything, i will be here and i will try to do all i can to make things better. Even if i don't know you well... please know that I LOVE YOU. Sincerely, Kaitlyn

Dec. 27th... the …

...Kait... • Jan 6th • 2 comments

THE REAL STORY OF THANKSGIVING by Susan Bates Most of us associate the holiday with happy Pilgrims and Indians sitting down to a big feast. And that did happen - once. The story began in 1614 when a band of English explorers sailed home to England with a ship full of Patuxet Indians bound for slavery. They left behind smallpox which virtually wiped out those who had escaped. By the time the Pilgrims arrived in Massachusetts Bay they found only one living Patuxet Indian, a man named Squanto who had survived slavery in England and knew their language. He taught them to grow corn and to fish, and negotiated a peace treaty between the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag Nation. At the end of their first year, the Pilgrims held a great feast honoring Squanto and the Wampanoags. But as word spread in England about the paradise to be found in the new world, religious zealots called Puritans began arriving by the boat load. Finding no fences around the land, they considered it to be in the public domain. Joined by other British settlers, they seized land, capturing strong young Natives for slaves and killing the rest. But the Pequot Nation had not agreed to the peace treaty Squanto had negotiated and they fought back. The Pequot War was one of the bloodiest Indian wars ever fought. In 1637 near present day Groton, Connecticut, over 700 men, women and children of the Pequot Tribe had gathered for their annual Green Corn Festival which is our Thanksgiving celebration. In the predawn hours the sleeping Indians were surrounded by English and Dutch mercenaries who ordered them to come outside. Those who came out were shot or clubbed to death while the terrified women and children who huddled inside the longhouse were burned alive. The next day the governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony declared "A Day Of Thanksgiving" because 700 unarmed men, women and children had been murdered. Cheered by their "victory", the brave colonists and their Indian allies attacked village after village. Women and children over 14 were sold into slavery while the rest were murdered. Boats loaded with a many as 500 slaves regularly left the ports of New England. Bounties were paid for Indian scalps to encourage as many deaths as possible. Following an especially successful raid against the Pequot in what is now Stamford, Connecticut, the churches announced a second day of "thanksgiving" to celebrate victory over the heathen savages. During the feasting, the hacked off heads of Natives were kicked through the streets like soccer balls. Even the friendly Wampanoag did not escape the madness. Their chief was beheaded, and his head impaled on a pole in Plymouth, Massachusetts -- where it remained on display for 24 years. The killings became more and more frenzied, with days of thanksgiving feasts being held after each successful massacre. George Washington finally suggested that only one day of Thanksgiving per year be set aside instead of celebrating each and every massacre. Later Abraham Lincoln decreed Thanksgiving Day to be a legal national holiday during the Civil War -- on the same day he ordered troops to march against the starving Sioux in Minnesota. This story doesn't have quite the same fuzzy feelings associated with it as the one where the Indians and Pilgrims are all sitting down together at the big feast. But we need to learn our true history so it won't ever be repeated. Next Thanksgiving, when you gather with your loved ones to Thank God for all your blessings, think about those people who only wanted to live their lives and raise their families. They, also took time out to say "thank you" to Creator for all their blessings. Our Thanks to Hill & Holler Column by Susan Bates There are still Wampanoag Indians living in Massachusetts. In 1970, they asked one of them to speak at the ceremony to mark the 350th anniversary of the Pilgrim's arrival. Here is part of what was said: "Today is a time of celebrating for you -- a time of looking back to the first days of white people in America. But it is not a time of celebrating for me. It is with a heavy heart that I look back upon what happened to my People. When the Pilgrims arrived, we, the Wampanoags, welcomed them with open arms, little knowing that it was the beginning of the end. That before 50 years were to pass, the Wampanoag would no longer be a tribe. That we and other Indians living near the settlers would be killed by their guns or dead from diseases that we caught from them. Let us always remember, the Indian is and was just as human as the white people. Although our way of life is almost gone, we, the Wampanoags, still walk the lands of Massachusetts. What has happened cannot be changed. But today we work toward a better America, a more Indian America where people and nature once again are important."

Thanksgiving... n…

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The Beatles

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zombie lovin'

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looking for a way…

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toy doll

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...Kait... • Nov 6th • 0 comments

Haven't been on in a while... so i thought i'd say... HELLO... How have you been??? Great i hope, and if not, don't worry... things will get better ;) O! right. This is an update!!! SSSSSSSssssssssooooooooOOOOO Mark is officially finished with the painting. After hours of work... make that DAYS of work... he is finally finished! :) Still not up on my wall, but it will be by tomorrow night. SO EXCITED!!! Seriously, new art, new inspiration FINALLY being put upon my wall! I will look at it as a reminder of a new start, a new me, a new life... I know that probably sounds weird, but after all the shit I've been through in my life... its nice to know I've finally reached a place of complete and total happiness... and its all because of Mark. I don't want to be the gooshy girlfriend, raving on and ON about her boyfriend, but seriously if you know Mark, you know what I'm talking about. And if you don't, get to know him! He's wonderful and genuine and such a light in your darkest times... He's kind and caring, always wanting to help, completely and totally inspirational... I mean, seriously, its hard to put into words all the things he is... I am SO blessed to have him in my life and I'm so glad I'm becoming friends with his friends... Jeff, Ashley, Chris, Joe, Hazz and whoever else I have the pleasure of getting to know in the future. Seriously, there is NEVER a dull moment with these people, whether we are creating and having intellectual conversation or just hanging out and listening to music... Its completely enjoyable. I mean they all have such great personalities!!! And they all bring something different to the table... I'm still getting to know each one of them, but I'm stoked to see what else I can learn from them or of them. So to Jeff, Ashley, Chris, Joe, Hazz and Mark. Thank you. Thank you for being you, Thank you for being so welcoming, Thank you for being in my life. YOU ARE AWSOME!!! Sorry for the random tangent, but the box to the right of this did say, "pour your heart out" :P Anywho, gotta go to bed now... school in the morning. So sleep well and sweet dreams kids... See you in neverland.

updating the syst…

...Kait... • Oct 20th • 5 comments

Who's to label you???Your parents? Your teachers? Your piers? Your... TESTS?Have you ever really thought about how much power a little piece of paper holds? More than you know... or choose to know... Think about it, grab a magazine off the street. Tell me if you find these list of things...1. A section on this seasons fashion and make-up... telling you how to dress or look if you want to be "HOT"...2. A new-egde ground breaking story... telling you what to question, what to think about, sometimes even how to think...3. A random test... saying, "If you take this, you can find something new about yourself that you never knew about before."I mean what a concept. Why think for yourself, when the world can do it for you? Right? I mean, you let all of those little things effect you. You're always thinking if I look like this, act like that or think like them i'll finally fit in. But the thing is, when you do that, you're not searching for who or what you are, but who or what other people expect you to be. So why let a little piece of paper hold so much power when you can find out so much just by asking yourself the hard questions and taking a chance to truly stare into what I like to call, "The Looking Glass"...Don't let yourself become just another paper doll, cut out from the pages of another persons book... Why not write your own? Go on... Think about it...>Alice<

...Paper Dolls...

...Kait... • Sep 24th • 0 comments

Thank you to those... who always have an ear to listen.Thank you to those... who always have a shoulder to cry on.Thank you to those... who always believe in their friends.Thank you to those... whom I can trust with my life.Thank you to those... who make each day a reason to get up.Thank you to those... who constantly stay optimistic and constantly need to learn more from the world.Thank you to those... who are open-minded and aren't afraid to have discussions on religion or politics and have a calm mind to be able to accept that not everyone has the same views.Thank you to those... who always make time for the people they love, no matter how busy they are.Thank you to those... who constantly remind me that God is always there for me, even in the worst of times.Thank you to those... who accept me for who I am and keep me accountable for my faults.Thank you to those... who are my friends.I don't know if I tell any of you enough, but I thank you for choosing to be in my life and for blessing me everyday with a smile, a laugh, and a caring heart. I love you all and once again I thank you. You make everyday worth living!xx:Kaitlyn Terrill:xx

... Thank you to …

...Kait... • Sep 24th • 0 comments

.: note: the ending line has more meaning than you think.. so think harder:.   The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new     material his impression of beautiful things. The highest, as the lower, form of criticism is a mode of auto-     biography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt     without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the     cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty. There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books     are well written, or badly written. That is all. The nineteenth-century dislike of Realism is the rage of Cali-     ban seeing his own face in the glass. The nineteenth-century dislike of Romanticism is the rage of     Caliban not seeing how own face in the glass. The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the     artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an     imperfect medium. No artist desires to prove anything.     Even things that are true and can be proved. No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an     artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style. No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything. Thought and Lnaguage are to the artist instruments of an art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art. From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the     art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the     actor's craft is the type. All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work     is new, complex, and vital. When critics disagree the artist is in accord with himself. We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he     does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless     thing is that one admires it intensely. All art is quite useless.                                                                             Oscar Wilde

...the preface to…

...Kait... • Sep 23rd • 2 comments