The unknown artist…

photo of bartender pouring draught beer
Photo by Anna Kapustina on


I know an artist who works her day job so she can toil away awaiting her big break…


The Unknown Artist


She tends bar in the evening

and waits tables as well.

So she can explore her passion:

her art.


During the day she winds metal,

and solders as well

as she creates unique pieces:

her art.


She hopes to see her gems

on the necks of others.

It’s a walking business card:

her art.


She adores clients like me

because I tend to buy

her work right off of her neck:

her art.


When inquiries are made

about the designs that I wear,

I joyfully share:

her art.


She hopes others will purchase

any item she makes,

and experience the love:

her art.


But still night after night

she tends bar and waits tables,

so she can work on her craft:

her art.


Will she ever make it big?

So she can devote all her time

to what drives her passion?

Her art.


Stay groovy…


Copyright 2018 Susie Krivacic

Ramble on…

three women holding clear glasses
Photo by ELEVATE on

So in a search for self-awareness, I bring you the poem below. When originally written, I did not recognize that one of the individuals rambling on just might have been me. After some reflection and much editing, I embrace this piece as somewhat autobiographical…I try to bring new ideas to light, however, I may need to simply stop and listen.


Ramble On


No one listens, and no one hears.

We’ve lost the use of both our ears.

People babble and ramble on.

I sit and listen, stifling a yawn.


They talk and talk and talk all day.

Constantly sharing… “What more to say?”

Verbiage spewed with such great speed.

How many words do we really need?


Opinions are strong and oh so defined.

Contrasting views are hotly maligned.

I listen with contempt and spite

at ideas and concepts that are beyond trite.


Perhaps I should pause and identify me

as one of these ramblers. I should take time to see

all views are valuable and definitely wise.

I must open my ears to recognize.


Stay groovy…


Copyright Susie Krivacic 2018


Getting off drugs is hell…

assorted medication capsules
Photo by on


Getting Off Drugs is Hell


Irritability, flu-like symptoms, lethargy,

discomfort, pissy mood, anger,

and that’s just the beginning.

I’m getting off drugs.


But here’s the peculiar part:

These are drugs prescribed by my doctor.

They are drugs designed to help me.

They serve the purpose of alleviating other symptoms.


What they didn’t tell me is the hell I’d go through

when it’s time to change up my medication.

“So start with one half the usual dose,” the doctor recommends.

“You’ll do this for a few days, and then half the dose again.”


It sounds simple enough until the withdrawal symptoms start.

I’m a bitch. A grumpy, beastly, no fun bitch.


I have to go through this to be ready for a new medication that will “help” me.


You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!

So I find myself pondering an issue.

I’m taking these drugs for medicinal reasons with the guidance of my physician.

So why the fuck would someone take non-prescribed illegal drugs?


You know that at some point you’ll stop taking the drugs (hopefully).

Do you really want to go through the torture if you don’t have to?

Use your head, you idiot…

Say NO!!!!!!!!!!


Stay groovy…


Copyright Susie Krivacic 2018










Burning the bridges…

brown wooden bridge beside green leafy trees
Photo by on

This piece was written many years ago, and some elements still hold true…


Burning the Bridges


Too often in life as we attempt to evolve, we hear a common statement:

“Don’t burn any bridges!”

If we receive an amazing job offer but must leave our current position, we hear it once again:

“Don’t burn any bridges!”


If we are in a questionable relationship, and it’s time to break it off, you guessed it:

“Don’t burn any bridges!”

If we are in conflict with a colleague and must take a stand for what is right, those words can’t escape us:

“Don’t burn any bridges!”


Why? Why must all bridges remain intact?

Have you examined any bridges recently?

Many are in grave need of repair, yet still, thousands of vehicles cross them each day.

Although in life, many feel we must be cautious to not burn these out of date, overused, and dilapidated structures.


We all know I am not speaking of literal bridges here,

but it is an excellent metaphor for life.

People are so afraid of harming contacts or relationships that they hold onto them long after they have run their course of usefulness.

They’d rather stay on that bridge no matter how bumpy or unstable it is than risk taking an alternate route.


Well, I am in favor or burning these antiquated structures that exist only in our minds…Hand me a match!

The one way to create an authentic fresh start is to remove the former bridge from our path and then find or build a new one.

Is this frightening? Yes…Is this difficult? Yes…Is this possible?



So step away from those colleagues, organizations, friends, and habits

that have been holding you back from what you were authentically meant to be.

Clean up the debris from the fire.

Get out the wood, hammer, and nails, and start to build your new bridge.


You control this structure.

Build it with a strong foundation; Build it using the most excellent materials.

Once completed, it will guide you to the future you were meant to have…not what others expect for you.

If you refuse to be who those around you expect you to be, they’re in for a surprise…and so are YOU!


Stay groovy…


Copyright Susie Krivacic 2018









close up photo of gray concrete road
Photo by Max Andrey on



As I drive down the boulevard for the hundredth time,

I’m struck by the lack of progress on the roadwork.

It seems this street has been under construction forever,

and I’m tired of it slowing me down.


I wonder why on some days there is a bustle of activity,

and constructors work up a heavy sweat making progress.

I can almost see results within a matter of days,

and I imagine how smooth my drive will soon be.


Yet other days the entire project is at a standstill.

Machinery does not move an inch,

workers mill about producing nothing at all,

and drivers offer never-ending complaints.


If you ponder this, it mirrors life.

For we have not just days but years

when our lives are under construction.

Our life project ebbs and flows.


Sometimes we are busy with production:

college, new job, marriage, building a house,

having children, watching them grow,

paying the mortgage, taking vacations…


Other times our life moves at a much slower pace:

Between jobs, lack of wellness, financial problems,

retirement, hanging with the grandkids,

reunions, passings…


If we look at the roadwork for what it really is

we may find ourselves more patient about the work to be done.

Because our life, like the road, is continually under construction,

and our road will take an extreme amount of time to complete as well.


Stay groovy…


Copyright Susie Krivacic 2018




Right, left…

person holding string lights photo
Photo by David Cassolato on

It’s Friday, so let’s get whimsical. Just a silly little chat between my right and left brain…


Right, Left


“Hey, right side,

I’m better than you.

I organize and analyze,

which you can’t do.”


“Hey left side,

you have the skills I lack.

But I’m creative,

and we really need that.”


“But right side,

I make more money than you.

There’s a dollar value

to all the things I do.”


“To the left I say

you have funds on your side.

But I’ve got self-expression

which I don’t have to hide.”


“You know right side

I’ll take my money any day.

Because life is expensive,

and I’ve got bills to pay.”


“Well left side

you have many things,

But my imagination is stronger

because it gives me wings!”


Stay groovy…


Copyright Susie Krivacic 2018






trees in park
Photo by Pixabay on




Eyes closed or open?

I have no way to know.

It’s been dark for so long,

am I above or below?


I view faint shadows

which are leering at me.

Are they stuck here forever

merely standing to see?


I’m feeling so trapped

as the wood grazes my nose.

I can’t feel my legs.

My whole body has froze.


Where’s the soft pillow?

Where’s the cushy bed?

Is it all for a show

to honor the dead?


Is it there for survivors

as they glance at the box?

It’s the illusion of comfort

as the coffin closes and locks.


I feel a slight bump

as the pallbearers’ stride.

I’m placed for final rest

but not sure if I died.


I hear the ominous sound

of the dirt as it drops.

It hits the coffin lid

as I try to scream, “STOP!”


Life can’t be over,

as there’s so much to do.

It’s gone in a blink.

How is my life through?


Why is life ended?

Why is it done?

Solving this mystery

is priority one.


Stay groovy…


Copyright Susie Krivacic 2018