Spelunking about an abandoned motel in Salton Sea Beach, taking pictures, I stumble upon this heart…
I didn’t snap the photo at first. I just read the poem. Over and over and over until the words became carved.
“I’ve felt those words before.” I thought to myself. I grew increasingly curious about the origin artist as I began seeing more and more of those hearts around the disintegrating landscape. They were a poignant addition to the surroundings. Their messages were resounding.
“My ex-boyfriend, the one I wrote Cancun (& some of Fury about), used to call me Boots simply because I own like 200 pairs. When I started to publish work & do art for the poetry, I decided to use the nickname since essentially Boots was created as an outlet for the pain the end of that relationship created. It’s bittersweet to use because it reminds me of him but also it’s also a symbol of strength for me. It reminds me that even when I am weak I have created something beautiful out of the loss.”
With the love of a dog, cans of paint and the words of stories, Boots travels and paints a path of heartbreak, loss and pain but also hope and love everywhere she goes. If all that glitters is not gold, her glitter is definitely gold in a, sometimes, seemingly dark world.
With her permission, I proudly present some of her work.
[Best_Wordpress_Gallery id=”20″ gal_title=”Poetry by Boots”]
I’ve fallen into a bit of a rut lately. Missing my family, being on the road, & spray painting everyday. I’ve been drinking too much. Sleeping whenever I can. Eating terribly. This morning I woke up to my dog licking my face & the pile of work out clothes that have been laid out for weeks.
Don’t focus on how many days you let depression overcome you. Remember the strong ones when you didn’t let it win. Seeing how happy my dog was after his hour sunrise walk was worth it. For today, I won ❤️
I told my dad that I think I might share too much or talk about my ex a lot in interviews. He said, “what else can happen? You already broke up. At this point everything you say is in the past. It’s not new stories. He’s heard it all. What else can you lose? Nothing. You can only help people feel not as alone.”
One sec, while I take a break from cutting onions. Boots has a gift of poking me in the feels. I ♡ you, Boots. Please keep painting.
You can see most of her work here on Instagram: instagram.com/poetrybyboots
If you’re like me and would like to learn more about the woman “in the boots”, there is a great article on her by Tunnels Magazine here: ‘These Boots Were Made for Writing’