Artist Name: December Belle
Zodiac: Sagittarius
Element: Fire
About December Belle :
As an artist, she believes we are the conduits for divinity and beauty to express itself. Art is our connection to the divine, and when the muse blesses us, the artists, with its message through inspiration/epiphanies/experiences, it’s our duty to express that truth to enlighten the rest of humanity.
Aside from writing, her other passion is dancing, which is what she's currently focused on. December also makes artworks/collages as a form of recreation.
Most of her writings tend to cover the emotional turmoil of the human experience (in the area of human relationships). Being incredibly sensitive to feelings, She uses her ability to write as a means to kind of detach herself from her emotions so she doesn’t drown in them, which tends to happen a lot, she said. In a way, writing has become a form of healing for her, as she takes apart this incredibly complex experience, to look at it from a different perspective—that of an artist’s—and to create something beautiful out of it, something poetic.
As an empath, putting out her works for people to read and experience is also her way of being a source of comfort and maybe even healing for those who are trying to sift their way out of the madness of their own emotions.
Major influences: Neil Gaiman, Charles Bukowski, Jillian Banks (Banks, music artist) ,Elena Tonra (Daughter, band), Lana Del Rey (music artist)
Earliest influences: Meggie Royer (writingsforwinter.tumblr.com) and Clementine von Radics
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Seven Years In seven years my body will only carry you in fragments and echoes, in dreams left unrealized, nostalgic and unsettling in the morning. Some days it will remember you in the places you frequented — a tiny strain on the curve of my neck or in the lengthening of the spine — but the nights that will pass will alleviate the pressure Until one day the atoms and cells that compose my being will rearrange themselves to a newer version of me, no longer tainted by the shape of your mouth or the slow burn of your hands running through every surface of skin accessible to you. And the makeshift shaft you built inside me will once again be renewed, remodeled for its original owner; she will be a stranger to us both but one I’m willing to meet, one you no longer have hold over. And what’s left of you will only run in the ink this paper will carry, dried out in the sun. And when it reaches your doorstep, I hope the remnants will seep through your fingers, reminding you of who you were to me: a sacred love song a tragic art film a jar full of tears that lit up my darkest hours. I hope you remember who you were because I loved you with all my wounds because I just spent a lifetime trying to forget you. -d. not ur muse I want you to take it back I want you to take it all back The angry words The emotional trauma The projected guilt The shame Take it all away from me Tear it out of my limbs I want you to take them all with your bare hands Peel them off my skin I can no longer carry this reinvention story for you This scarred love letter wobbly on its knees She is not anyone I can learn to love She was never me She was just a plaything Whose strings you could happily pull when it suited you Take her away from me I can never be her Stitch her to someone else You were never for me anyway. -d. |