I don't really have anything extra special to blog about today. I just figured it's been a while and I'm not doing anything else so why not?
I've been doing a lot of Christmas shopping and lazing about these past few days. I've been enjoying the drink a bit too much and I have been listening to French music, at least in a round about sort of way. If you know me, you might know that I'm not a huge fan of the French in general, without real reason or cause. But really, some of the French music isn't terrible. I like it. Hey, the French can't get it all wrong.
I watched an interview of Joseph Gordon-Levitt on Youtube. It was excessively adorable and a bit strange. But it was an interview with Nylon magazine, which I think it kind of a strange publication; though in all honesty I have yet to read it. Either way, back to Mr. Gordon-Levitt. You might remember him as a shaggy haired teenager on 3rd Rock from the Sun or as the suave slicked back dreamer in Inception. I'll admit he caught my attention fully after Inception though I did enjoy his performance in 500 Days of Summer with Zooey Deschanel, a woman I love and hate at the same time. All that aside, in that interview with Nylon, Joseph mentioned that he likes women who speak French. Unfortunately I will never be one of those women. Not just because of my aforementioned distaste for French things. Languages are hard. I believe I should master Spanish, a language that people just assume I know because I happen to have more melanin than others, before I pick up any other languages.
All this got me to thinking, what kind of a woman do I want to be? I mean, I have already realized that I have no idea what I want to do when I grow up (which scarily is sort of right now, sort of not), but I have been thinking about what kind of lifestyle I want to have. I figure if I can manage that task first, in theory, I should be able to work from there to find a job that will allow me to live as I want to. But then again, this is all speculation. As is much of what comes out of my mouth and head.
Either way, I want to be a stylish, though not necessarily trendy, woman. I want to have good taste, in all things. I want to be knowledgeable of lots of things and passionate about a select few. I want to own clever things that are functional and aesthetically pleasing. I want to be able to create clever, functional things. I want to be able to give of myself freely, both in time and spirit.
I want to fall in love with a man who will love me despite the fact that I will be neurotic for all time, no matter how much I try to improve myself. I want to be the kind of woman that attracts a man that will happily surprise me. Someone who can handle my crazies but knows that I'm not really crazy, who will accept that I will almost always drop anything and everything I'm doing to go to the aid of my family. Someone who sees that as a virtue and not some annoying fault to correct or put up with. I want to fall in love with someone that I can just look at and know, not guess or hope but know, that being married to him will make my life better from that moment on.
So yea... I don't know how to be this person I imagine in my head. But I guess I can thank Joseph Gordon-Levitt for making me at least think about it.
Listen to Falling Into Reverie
Monday, December 6, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
More than Words
I have been listening to The Avett Brothers a lot lately. Their song "Paranoia in B Major" has kind of resonated with me these past few weeks. So here are the lyrics (I've bolded and italicized the parts that speak to me the most):
I keep tellin’ myself that it’ll be fine
You can’t make everybody happy all of the time.
I found myself in a place that I've never been;
A place that I thought that I would never be.
There’s people looking back at me
I keep having this dream: I’m at a party
There’s people throwing drinks and screaming, telling me that I don’t belong.
Lately life’s been the same; I find this comfortable place
With all my friends and then my friends start telling me that I’ve always been wrong
And I’m so tired of being wrong
There was a time I could move, there was a time I could breathe.
The crowded spaces filled with angry faces,
It didn’t once cross my mind.
With paranoia on my heels, will you love me still
when we awake and you find that the sanity has gone from my eyes?
I got secrets from you, you got secrets from me
Because you’re so worried about what I’m gonna think.
Baby I’m worried too.
But if love is a game, girl, then you’re gonna win.
I’ll spend the rest of my life bringing victory in
If you want me to.
Deer Tick's song "Art Isn't Real (City of Sin)" has also resonated with me.
I am the dotted line,
And you fill me in with whatever you like.
I am just going through the motions.
I need an old fashioned potion.
There has gotta be some old recipe.
'Cuz I gotta get drunk,
I gotta forget about somethings.
I lived in lies all my life,
And I've been living here for a long, long time,
And I know its been coming down a while now,
When it shows, then you get me on the dial,
But right now you're half way around the world,
Maybe I'll see better days, but I'm not so sure I will.
I'm still hanging round and round.
Sometimes it's a racket, but lately not a sound.
In the bowels of history and time,
I have learned to stay back and never shine.
Now I feel stupid when I smile.
For not a journey, a circus are our lives.
I can't make up for everything I waste,
And I know that I could never afford a taste,
Of anything that your lovely hands make,
It eats away before the soul brake.
Just because it brings a smile to my face,
such a bad memory, you just can't erase.
I know of a City to steal from,
And I know of a City to cheat on,
And I know of a City of Sin,
And that's the place I wanna meet you in,
And say hello all over again,
Romance me and take it back to the beginning.
Both songs speak to me because I have really felt lost these past few months. I'm not one for wafting around and pretending that I wanted to go to art school when pastry school didn't pan out made me slightly crazy. I guess I knew in my heart that I wasn't ready for art school and I'm pretty sure it's something that I'll never do. I just don't take it seriously. I mean, art is for me. Not for anyone else. Definitely not for someone else to judge (even though that's part of the viewing process). Maybe one day I'll be ready for that but it's not today.
Once I stopped ignoring the fact that I didn't feel like AI Portland was a place I could see myself taking classes in, I really didn't want to admit that I don't know anything, especially what I'm good at. I also didn't really want to come to terms with the fact that I won't love or want to keep the first job I have post college. I'm 23; there's time to figure out what I'm good at. I guess I'm not really that good at being uncomfortable and I have already had a few jobs that have made me wish my car broke down on the way in so I wouldn't have to go (despite the obvious headache that would accompany a broken car). I hated every minute of it and I don't exactly want to go back to that (but honestly, who would? Still people do it every day and for years!)
I guess it all goes back to the idea that I want to be the exception to the rule, not the rule itself. I wanted to be the one person that found out what they wanted to do with their life right out of college and, on top of that, found a good job (that paid well!) and actually was hiring. But no, that's not me and I'm certain that person doesn't exist.
Maybe the problem is that I'm good at lots of things and now it's time to choose something to do and there are just too many options. That sounds like a high class problem.
It's ok to have multiple jobs in a lifetime. It's even ok to be discontent, as long as it isn't forever. I'm just scared that I'll be discontent for the rest of my life and not even realize it.
I keep tellin’ myself that it’ll be fine
You can’t make everybody happy all of the time.
I found myself in a place that I've never been;
A place that I thought that I would never be.
There’s people looking back at me
I keep having this dream: I’m at a party
There’s people throwing drinks and screaming, telling me that I don’t belong.
Lately life’s been the same; I find this comfortable place
With all my friends and then my friends start telling me that I’ve always been wrong
And I’m so tired of being wrong
There was a time I could move, there was a time I could breathe.
The crowded spaces filled with angry faces,
It didn’t once cross my mind.
With paranoia on my heels, will you love me still
when we awake and you find that the sanity has gone from my eyes?
I got secrets from you, you got secrets from me
Because you’re so worried about what I’m gonna think.
Baby I’m worried too.
But if love is a game, girl, then you’re gonna win.
I’ll spend the rest of my life bringing victory in
If you want me to.
Deer Tick's song "Art Isn't Real (City of Sin)" has also resonated with me.
I am the dotted line,
And you fill me in with whatever you like.
I am just going through the motions.
I need an old fashioned potion.
There has gotta be some old recipe.
'Cuz I gotta get drunk,
I gotta forget about somethings.
I lived in lies all my life,
And I've been living here for a long, long time,
And I know its been coming down a while now,
When it shows, then you get me on the dial,
But right now you're half way around the world,
Maybe I'll see better days, but I'm not so sure I will.
I'm still hanging round and round.
Sometimes it's a racket, but lately not a sound.
In the bowels of history and time,
I have learned to stay back and never shine.
Now I feel stupid when I smile.
For not a journey, a circus are our lives.
I can't make up for everything I waste,
And I know that I could never afford a taste,
Of anything that your lovely hands make,
It eats away before the soul brake.
Just because it brings a smile to my face,
such a bad memory, you just can't erase.
I know of a City to steal from,
And I know of a City to cheat on,
And I know of a City of Sin,
And that's the place I wanna meet you in,
And say hello all over again,
Romance me and take it back to the beginning.
Both songs speak to me because I have really felt lost these past few months. I'm not one for wafting around and pretending that I wanted to go to art school when pastry school didn't pan out made me slightly crazy. I guess I knew in my heart that I wasn't ready for art school and I'm pretty sure it's something that I'll never do. I just don't take it seriously. I mean, art is for me. Not for anyone else. Definitely not for someone else to judge (even though that's part of the viewing process). Maybe one day I'll be ready for that but it's not today.
Once I stopped ignoring the fact that I didn't feel like AI Portland was a place I could see myself taking classes in, I really didn't want to admit that I don't know anything, especially what I'm good at. I also didn't really want to come to terms with the fact that I won't love or want to keep the first job I have post college. I'm 23; there's time to figure out what I'm good at. I guess I'm not really that good at being uncomfortable and I have already had a few jobs that have made me wish my car broke down on the way in so I wouldn't have to go (despite the obvious headache that would accompany a broken car). I hated every minute of it and I don't exactly want to go back to that (but honestly, who would? Still people do it every day and for years!)
I guess it all goes back to the idea that I want to be the exception to the rule, not the rule itself. I wanted to be the one person that found out what they wanted to do with their life right out of college and, on top of that, found a good job (that paid well!) and actually was hiring. But no, that's not me and I'm certain that person doesn't exist.
Maybe the problem is that I'm good at lots of things and now it's time to choose something to do and there are just too many options. That sounds like a high class problem.
It's ok to have multiple jobs in a lifetime. It's even ok to be discontent, as long as it isn't forever. I'm just scared that I'll be discontent for the rest of my life and not even realize it.
Here's to the Future
I hate spraying air freshener and, because I have to walk through it on the way out of the door, end up smelling like "Tahitian flowers" when I emerge from the bathroom.
I appreciate the fact that I might be one of the only people who ever thinks about this more than a fleeting moment but it's something I think about every time I spray air freshener, which mean every time I feel like being kind after I poop.
I am currently sitting at the Columbia public library, listening to La Roux's "Bullet Proof." This song makes me think of England because La Roux always played at Sugarhouse and one of the girls definitely played at least one La Roux song every time they went out (read: every night of the week).
I have no idea where that intro thought came from; in all honesty I started writing this post about two weeks ago and that's where I started. Since then I have decided a few things. Most importantly: I am going to stay in Columbia and pay off my loans at a VA job. Well I just found out today that I do not qualify for the one job I am basically a shoe in for. Sigh. Such is life. On the upside, I have found at least five other jobs that I can apply for. Not to mention one other job at the VA. Of course the five other jobs are open right now. Not in three months like I want. But yea...I'm working on it. That said, I just turned in my deposit and application for an apartment. So I guess that part is covered. Unless of course I get turned down, which is entirely possible though unlikely.
I am suddenly freezing in here.
There is a heap of things that I'm meant to be doing. Most specifically, my art project because yes, I am still taking a class. I'd be a professional student but I'm actually ok with not going to class all the time or having homework. I mean I guess I do have that but it's entirely up to me at this point to do more work. I have finished one print (something that Chris said was flawless-shocking to me too) which really was the only thing I had to do for the class. That being said, I'd really like to make several more. I have ideas, but then again I don't really.
I hate Google Instant.
I feel excited about the future. I guess I'm excited about living on my own with my cats. I don't exactly want to work every day (or take classes for that matter) and I think it will be a challenge. I sometimes worry about how I'm going to make money but then I remember that I don't exactly have to love my job. I just need one. I can do that.
I appreciate the fact that I might be one of the only people who ever thinks about this more than a fleeting moment but it's something I think about every time I spray air freshener, which mean every time I feel like being kind after I poop.
I am currently sitting at the Columbia public library, listening to La Roux's "Bullet Proof." This song makes me think of England because La Roux always played at Sugarhouse and one of the girls definitely played at least one La Roux song every time they went out (read: every night of the week).
I have no idea where that intro thought came from; in all honesty I started writing this post about two weeks ago and that's where I started. Since then I have decided a few things. Most importantly: I am going to stay in Columbia and pay off my loans at a VA job. Well I just found out today that I do not qualify for the one job I am basically a shoe in for. Sigh. Such is life. On the upside, I have found at least five other jobs that I can apply for. Not to mention one other job at the VA. Of course the five other jobs are open right now. Not in three months like I want. But yea...I'm working on it. That said, I just turned in my deposit and application for an apartment. So I guess that part is covered. Unless of course I get turned down, which is entirely possible though unlikely.
I am suddenly freezing in here.
There is a heap of things that I'm meant to be doing. Most specifically, my art project because yes, I am still taking a class. I'd be a professional student but I'm actually ok with not going to class all the time or having homework. I mean I guess I do have that but it's entirely up to me at this point to do more work. I have finished one print (something that Chris said was flawless-shocking to me too) which really was the only thing I had to do for the class. That being said, I'd really like to make several more. I have ideas, but then again I don't really.
I hate Google Instant.
I feel excited about the future. I guess I'm excited about living on my own with my cats. I don't exactly want to work every day (or take classes for that matter) and I think it will be a challenge. I sometimes worry about how I'm going to make money but then I remember that I don't exactly have to love my job. I just need one. I can do that.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Working...?
Strangely, while I'm working I always think about things and get ideas for print or life issues get sorted/tangled. I think it's funny in a way. I mean I'm meant to be thinking about the task at hand but what I do is often repetetive and mundane so my mind has a chance and the ability to wander onto almost anything.
Time for a piece of truth:
I'm afraid to go to pastry school or art school because I'm pretty sure that I'm not really good at either thing. I'm scared of failing. Going to art school means I have to embrace art in a way I've never done before and I don't know how to. I'm scared that I'll continue to treat it as a hobby where everyone else treats it as life.
The honest truth is that I dont know what I want to do in my life and I'm pretty sure I'm not really good anything. Except maybe those mindless tasks I complete daily (if completion equals good).
Sidenote: (An update on the independently wealthy scheme) My roommate JP gave me some sound advice regarding marrying a wealthy man: Stop hanging out with artists.
Time for a piece of truth:
I'm afraid to go to pastry school or art school because I'm pretty sure that I'm not really good at either thing. I'm scared of failing. Going to art school means I have to embrace art in a way I've never done before and I don't know how to. I'm scared that I'll continue to treat it as a hobby where everyone else treats it as life.
The honest truth is that I dont know what I want to do in my life and I'm pretty sure I'm not really good anything. Except maybe those mindless tasks I complete daily (if completion equals good).
Sidenote: (An update on the independently wealthy scheme) My roommate JP gave me some sound advice regarding marrying a wealthy man: Stop hanging out with artists.
Friday, August 20, 2010
I'll Let You Think That I'm Yours When I'm Not
So a lot has happened in the past week. Upon returning to work, I was greeted with an email of epic proportions: I needed to hand in the proof that I am a student. Well, no problem I thought. Just get that acceptance from AI Portland. Done.
...
Right, except AI Portland didn't listen to me and I was accepted for fall. Hm...how do I explain that to work? I know it says fall but classes don't actually start until January. Despite a phone call and an email requesting a phone call back or a fax with the correct info for work, Portland has yet to respond to me.
So I am a Mizzou student for one more semester. I am taking a one credit course with my amazing print teacher, the great Chris Daniggelis. It's an independent study print course and I am excited to be working again, both in print and at my actual job. I will spend the semester learning and pushing myself to make more and better things to strenghten my portfolio. Maybe I'll go to an art school in Portland.
I am still planning on moving to Portland. Whether I go to AI or somewhere else at this point is completely up in the air. But I'm glad for this time at Mizzou with Chris. I clearly need it.
School starts on Monday.
...
Right, except AI Portland didn't listen to me and I was accepted for fall. Hm...how do I explain that to work? I know it says fall but classes don't actually start until January. Despite a phone call and an email requesting a phone call back or a fax with the correct info for work, Portland has yet to respond to me.
So I am a Mizzou student for one more semester. I am taking a one credit course with my amazing print teacher, the great Chris Daniggelis. It's an independent study print course and I am excited to be working again, both in print and at my actual job. I will spend the semester learning and pushing myself to make more and better things to strenghten my portfolio. Maybe I'll go to an art school in Portland.
I am still planning on moving to Portland. Whether I go to AI or somewhere else at this point is completely up in the air. But I'm glad for this time at Mizzou with Chris. I clearly need it.
School starts on Monday.
Friday, August 13, 2010
I'm Here for Liquor and Dessert
I'm 23 years old.
I've spent the last week at my mom's, watching my nieces. We have had fun. I love my nieces and I appreciate spending so much time with them.
That being said, I need to get the fuck out of here. Seriously. I can feel myself getting stuck here. Overspending (so much for the budget), wasting days doing nothing, not thinking about my future. I'm trapped in the same crap with my mom, arguing about nothing. My mom actually made me cry at dinner. My birthday dinner. It's stupid but true; she spent the entire dinner not talking to anyone. It was just me and my nieces. At 23, I cried. My feelings were hurt and I felt stupid.
She apologized the next day.
That said, my brother and sister are back in town tomorrow. I'll be out tomorrow night. Happy birthday me.
I've spent the last week at my mom's, watching my nieces. We have had fun. I love my nieces and I appreciate spending so much time with them.
That being said, I need to get the fuck out of here. Seriously. I can feel myself getting stuck here. Overspending (so much for the budget), wasting days doing nothing, not thinking about my future. I'm trapped in the same crap with my mom, arguing about nothing. My mom actually made me cry at dinner. My birthday dinner. It's stupid but true; she spent the entire dinner not talking to anyone. It was just me and my nieces. At 23, I cried. My feelings were hurt and I felt stupid.
She apologized the next day.
That said, my brother and sister are back in town tomorrow. I'll be out tomorrow night. Happy birthday me.
Monday, August 2, 2010
The Sweet Life
So I'm at home, my new home, and I'm spending time alone (for the first time) with JP, one of my new housemates. Now I'm certain I mentioned this before but I'll say it again but I can never remember how much of the running monologue that is my thoughts I actually write down. JP and Niki are married. I suppose I've known them both for a while now. Really I've known Niki for two years; I've known about JP's existence for just as long though I met him maybe a year ago. They are perfect together, at least in my eyes.
Now tonight is just as any other night except that I am spending time alone with JP for the first time. It's not weird, at least not entirely, which kind of surprised me at first. Let me clarify something before I go on; Niki is just out for a while. This little moment in time where it's just JP and I will really only last about two hours-and I am typing this in the middle of that time.
With that said, I have to spend this time writing this as I am thinking it right now. I do feel slightly cliched typing this but here goes: I am so lucky. Here are these amazing people who care about me something akin to the way my family does. Maybe only in a peripheral sense, but they do care about my well-being, care enough to take care of me and offer me a place in their home. To provide me with a launching off point for my future.
I have thought this multiple times in the past several months, but especially in the last two weeks. As I spend more time with them, I just have to smile at their quirks. I mean really, it's just who they are. They make dinner for each other. They sit and budget together. They ask about each other's day. And then they do (almost) all that for me too. Seriously?
So what's prompted this gooey I-love-my-friends post? I don't know. I guess I'm just weird.
JP and I started making dinner at the same time (he's making a shrimp dish-something I am suddenly allergic to, otherwise I'm certain I would have been asked to join). My food, as any other college kids dinners, took about 5 minutes to make and just as long to eat. As I ate and watched JP creepily (something I called the appropriate amount of attention to), he asked me questions, about my day, what I like in KC, normal stuff. I think it's interesting to think that we don't really know much about each other and yet I feel completely at ease with him. I think sometimes there's the feeling that the empty air in the room needs to be filled by talking but I like that I can have a (mostly) comfortable silence with him.
It's different with Niki. We have had those completely comfortable silences together to but she's a person I tell all my shenanigan tales to and she listens without judgment and mostly offers pieces of advice and support. I feel bad (often) because I feel like I don't do a very good job reciprocating those feelings but I am trying to be better at telling the people who matter how much they mean to me (well without coming across as weirdly out of no where or creepy as--which is why I haven't said anything to JP yet, I don't think we're to that point).
Either way, I feel like I am, just as I said, very lucky.
Now tonight is just as any other night except that I am spending time alone with JP for the first time. It's not weird, at least not entirely, which kind of surprised me at first. Let me clarify something before I go on; Niki is just out for a while. This little moment in time where it's just JP and I will really only last about two hours-and I am typing this in the middle of that time.
With that said, I have to spend this time writing this as I am thinking it right now. I do feel slightly cliched typing this but here goes: I am so lucky. Here are these amazing people who care about me something akin to the way my family does. Maybe only in a peripheral sense, but they do care about my well-being, care enough to take care of me and offer me a place in their home. To provide me with a launching off point for my future.
I have thought this multiple times in the past several months, but especially in the last two weeks. As I spend more time with them, I just have to smile at their quirks. I mean really, it's just who they are. They make dinner for each other. They sit and budget together. They ask about each other's day. And then they do (almost) all that for me too. Seriously?
So what's prompted this gooey I-love-my-friends post? I don't know. I guess I'm just weird.
JP and I started making dinner at the same time (he's making a shrimp dish-something I am suddenly allergic to, otherwise I'm certain I would have been asked to join). My food, as any other college kids dinners, took about 5 minutes to make and just as long to eat. As I ate and watched JP creepily (something I called the appropriate amount of attention to), he asked me questions, about my day, what I like in KC, normal stuff. I think it's interesting to think that we don't really know much about each other and yet I feel completely at ease with him. I think sometimes there's the feeling that the empty air in the room needs to be filled by talking but I like that I can have a (mostly) comfortable silence with him.
It's different with Niki. We have had those completely comfortable silences together to but she's a person I tell all my shenanigan tales to and she listens without judgment and mostly offers pieces of advice and support. I feel bad (often) because I feel like I don't do a very good job reciprocating those feelings but I am trying to be better at telling the people who matter how much they mean to me (well without coming across as weirdly out of no where or creepy as--which is why I haven't said anything to JP yet, I don't think we're to that point).
Either way, I feel like I am, just as I said, very lucky.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
21 Randoms
If we're friends on facebook, you might remember my previous randoms list that occurred while I was in England. I liked it so I'm doing it again.
1. I bite my nails when I'm nervous or stressed out.
2. That being said, once I start, if there's a jagged edge, I can't stop.
3. I am trying to figure out a way to become independently wealthy.
4. I wish I was more talented at art.
5. I don't feel like I'm really good at anything.
6. I love the show Burn Notice because it's exciting and sort of romantic.
7. I loathe the fact that I just wrote "sort of romantic" and meant it.
8. I have an irrational dislike for Kiera Knightly. And Ashton Kutcher (as I've previously mentioned) and a host of other celebrities.
9. I feel like a "typical college grad" meaning I'm pretty sure I don't have any idea what I want to do now...
10. Outside the independently wealthy scheme, that is.
11. I'm afraid that I'll be alone for the rest of my life.
12. Part of me would be ok with that. The other part is certain I am missing out on a lot.
13. These randoms remind me of postsecret except they're not a secret because they're all from me and I told you that.
14. I like watching all the CSI shows. Vegas is the best, and Miami and New York follow nearly neck and neck. I haven't seen enough of New York to make an actual decision about it and Horatio's ridiculous ways are almost too much for me.
15. My favorite kind of photography is black and white with one random color.
16. I am attracted to older men. This is something I am just figuring out about myself.
17. I like beards.
18. Whenever I see a commercial for IHOP, I think about the time I went there with Jacquie and we had a great time, despite not really enjoying our food.
19. I think that KIA commercial with the hamsters is totally weird.
20. I hate packing my lunch for work. I guess I'm just lazy.
21. I'd like to go to New York.
1. I bite my nails when I'm nervous or stressed out.
2. That being said, once I start, if there's a jagged edge, I can't stop.
3. I am trying to figure out a way to become independently wealthy.
4. I wish I was more talented at art.
5. I don't feel like I'm really good at anything.
6. I love the show Burn Notice because it's exciting and sort of romantic.
7. I loathe the fact that I just wrote "sort of romantic" and meant it.
8. I have an irrational dislike for Kiera Knightly. And Ashton Kutcher (as I've previously mentioned) and a host of other celebrities.
9. I feel like a "typical college grad" meaning I'm pretty sure I don't have any idea what I want to do now...
10. Outside the independently wealthy scheme, that is.
11. I'm afraid that I'll be alone for the rest of my life.
12. Part of me would be ok with that. The other part is certain I am missing out on a lot.
13. These randoms remind me of postsecret except they're not a secret because they're all from me and I told you that.
14. I like watching all the CSI shows. Vegas is the best, and Miami and New York follow nearly neck and neck. I haven't seen enough of New York to make an actual decision about it and Horatio's ridiculous ways are almost too much for me.
15. My favorite kind of photography is black and white with one random color.
16. I am attracted to older men. This is something I am just figuring out about myself.
17. I like beards.
18. Whenever I see a commercial for IHOP, I think about the time I went there with Jacquie and we had a great time, despite not really enjoying our food.
19. I think that KIA commercial with the hamsters is totally weird.
20. I hate packing my lunch for work. I guess I'm just lazy.
21. I'd like to go to New York.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Like Untangling a Knot
I'm moving out of my apartment. My beloved 305 will no longer be my own and this reality comes with some interesting issues.
The inevitable wave of sadness has yet to crash on me but I imagine myself weeping in front of my landlord as I handover my keys.
Removing all of my things has been the hardest thing. Difficult for practical reasons - I have spent pretty much my entire college career in this apartment and have accumulated a lot of things - and for emotional ones - after three years I find it strange to think of what is "mine." I have felt protective of the 305, annoyed when strangers puked on my floor and broke a dining room chair during various parties. I have felt dismayed by its old...well, everything. I have longed for air conditioning and proper heat. I tried to remind myself not to get attached; the 305 is not a permanent home. Despite all that, throughout my cleaning, I have found my roots, dusty under the clothes and clutter of my room.
It's easy to pack the things in my room; I know everything in there is mine. Out in the apartment, things get a little tricky. The bathroom rug, the doormat, various glasses, the coffee pot and toaster oven, things that have become permanent fixtures of everyday use...these things are mine too but I feel weird taking them. There is a sense of shared ownership and I'd almost rather leave them behind for my roommate (my best friend) out of convenience for her.
But with the reality of moving out comes the reality that I will be moving into a new place. I am moving in with my very good friend Niki and her husband JP. They have just bought their first house together and have found it in their hearts to welcome me into their new home. This is a temporary thing and it has always been understood to be temporary. They are being exceptionally generous in every possible way (giving me my own space, basically an entire level of the house-among other things). By having an expiration date, they are ultimately helping me out by forcing me to plan for Portland.
I am extremely excited about it. There will be the new roommate feeling out stage where little annoyances will be discovered, which I'm only slightly anxious for. Mostly I know that, while I may feel like I'm cramping their style, they are totally ok with me being there. After all Niki asked me about it in a manner that suggested moving in with them was the completely obvious choice and saying no would be a stupid decision. Since it is their first home together, I initially felt strange about encroaching on their married space; but I have been invited for dinner and painting several times already (during which I have been in that strange space, hovering in between guest and housemate) and I know that weirdness I feel is just because I haven't actually moved in. Nothing is official quite yet. The room which is to be mine has always been called "Sam's room" and I was consulted on the paint choice, though ultimately it was not my decision (as it shouldn't be). They have gone out of their way to incorporate me into things and have been honest and upfront about everything.
I don't want to say it's strange because that would be a lie. It isn't strange. It's just new and I will not be trapped by my limited vocabulary and stunted emotional reservoir into saying it is "strange" or "weird" or any other word with a negative connotation. The reality of it is this: I am thankful to be at a new beginning surrounded by friends and support to push into the really new scary thing: moving to Portland.
The inevitable wave of sadness has yet to crash on me but I imagine myself weeping in front of my landlord as I handover my keys.
Removing all of my things has been the hardest thing. Difficult for practical reasons - I have spent pretty much my entire college career in this apartment and have accumulated a lot of things - and for emotional ones - after three years I find it strange to think of what is "mine." I have felt protective of the 305, annoyed when strangers puked on my floor and broke a dining room chair during various parties. I have felt dismayed by its old...well, everything. I have longed for air conditioning and proper heat. I tried to remind myself not to get attached; the 305 is not a permanent home. Despite all that, throughout my cleaning, I have found my roots, dusty under the clothes and clutter of my room.
It's easy to pack the things in my room; I know everything in there is mine. Out in the apartment, things get a little tricky. The bathroom rug, the doormat, various glasses, the coffee pot and toaster oven, things that have become permanent fixtures of everyday use...these things are mine too but I feel weird taking them. There is a sense of shared ownership and I'd almost rather leave them behind for my roommate (my best friend) out of convenience for her.
But with the reality of moving out comes the reality that I will be moving into a new place. I am moving in with my very good friend Niki and her husband JP. They have just bought their first house together and have found it in their hearts to welcome me into their new home. This is a temporary thing and it has always been understood to be temporary. They are being exceptionally generous in every possible way (giving me my own space, basically an entire level of the house-among other things). By having an expiration date, they are ultimately helping me out by forcing me to plan for Portland.
I am extremely excited about it. There will be the new roommate feeling out stage where little annoyances will be discovered, which I'm only slightly anxious for. Mostly I know that, while I may feel like I'm cramping their style, they are totally ok with me being there. After all Niki asked me about it in a manner that suggested moving in with them was the completely obvious choice and saying no would be a stupid decision. Since it is their first home together, I initially felt strange about encroaching on their married space; but I have been invited for dinner and painting several times already (during which I have been in that strange space, hovering in between guest and housemate) and I know that weirdness I feel is just because I haven't actually moved in. Nothing is official quite yet. The room which is to be mine has always been called "Sam's room" and I was consulted on the paint choice, though ultimately it was not my decision (as it shouldn't be). They have gone out of their way to incorporate me into things and have been honest and upfront about everything.
I don't want to say it's strange because that would be a lie. It isn't strange. It's just new and I will not be trapped by my limited vocabulary and stunted emotional reservoir into saying it is "strange" or "weird" or any other word with a negative connotation. The reality of it is this: I am thankful to be at a new beginning surrounded by friends and support to push into the really new scary thing: moving to Portland.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
I've Got Plans To Make Plans
My to do list for the week:
1) Finish at least three prints for my class by Wednesday
2) Hang out with mom at a free concert
3) Pay my rent
4) Get to work on time
5) Organize
1) Finish at least three prints for my class by Wednesday
2) Hang out with mom at a free concert
3) Pay my rent
4) Get to work on time
5) Organize
Monday, June 14, 2010
It's Called Appropriation
My print teacher told me that to make me feel better about using lyrics of songs as jumping off points for my art work. "Nothing is original. Nothing is new," he said.
That being said I think I have figured out a concept for my portfolio/my body of work. Some might even say it could be a graduate thesis or something. I want my work to be about the place where words fail and images pick up the slack.
I feel like lyrics work very well because they are already examples of when words fail: lyrics are words accompanied by music. Some lyrics are so strong they evoke emotions and elaborate imaginative journeys. Those are the lyrics that I want to use to make my art work.
The first piece I'm working on is from a St. Vincent song. The lyric is "Your heart is a strange orange to peel." That evokes such a strong image to me and the sketch I drew up looks pretty cool. I just need to draw it up for real and get a color mapping going so I can begin the screenprint process.
I also wanted to do a four color separation. I haven't gotten a chance to do that yet but I think it is a really cool process. I just need to find a good image. I'm not really sure though. I need to listen to more music to get some inspiration.
On a completely unrelated note, I drove back to Columbia today after spending the weekend in KC. I had to be at work at 8:30 and I needed to go to my house first to put away some stuff. Well I was trying to hurry up and I stepped over a pile of mud but didn't quite make it. I slipped and busted my knees on the pavement outside of my apartment. My right knee was actively bleeding and I was cursing to myself as I gathered my things. I realized that I made a noise that sounded very much like R2D2. I said "Whoaa!" while I was falling to my knees' doom.
So yea...that was my Monday morning. Good times at the rodeo.
That being said I think I have figured out a concept for my portfolio/my body of work. Some might even say it could be a graduate thesis or something. I want my work to be about the place where words fail and images pick up the slack.
I feel like lyrics work very well because they are already examples of when words fail: lyrics are words accompanied by music. Some lyrics are so strong they evoke emotions and elaborate imaginative journeys. Those are the lyrics that I want to use to make my art work.
The first piece I'm working on is from a St. Vincent song. The lyric is "Your heart is a strange orange to peel." That evokes such a strong image to me and the sketch I drew up looks pretty cool. I just need to draw it up for real and get a color mapping going so I can begin the screenprint process.
I also wanted to do a four color separation. I haven't gotten a chance to do that yet but I think it is a really cool process. I just need to find a good image. I'm not really sure though. I need to listen to more music to get some inspiration.
On a completely unrelated note, I drove back to Columbia today after spending the weekend in KC. I had to be at work at 8:30 and I needed to go to my house first to put away some stuff. Well I was trying to hurry up and I stepped over a pile of mud but didn't quite make it. I slipped and busted my knees on the pavement outside of my apartment. My right knee was actively bleeding and I was cursing to myself as I gathered my things. I realized that I made a noise that sounded very much like R2D2. I said "Whoaa!" while I was falling to my knees' doom.
So yea...that was my Monday morning. Good times at the rodeo.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Obsession
So I graduated. I believe I mentioned this before. At the end of the semester (a scant three weeks ago) I was dying to continue serigraphy. I was searching for a way to continue my work, either somehow rigging up a studio in my apartment (yea, likely) or pulling money out my rear to take a summer class. Well, the VA forced me to continue the student route so I'm taking a summer print class. I was excited.
I am excited.
That being said, the class is starting on Monday. I'm nervous now. The desire to do serigraphy hasn't left me. I'm just slightly unsure about what I want to work on now. It matters in a completely different sense now. I don't need the credits to graduate. I have graduated. I am just doing it to work on my process. Now, though, I want to establish some kind of a body of work. I want to apply to the Pacific Northwest College of Art, mostly just to see if I can get in. I really can't afford to go there. But I want to know if I am good enough. Is that strange?
I'm trying to see if I can actually establish myself as an artist, in the traditional sense. I'm not exactly good at drawing; though, admittedly, I haven't exactly tried to be one. I've just made art to keep my sanity, for fun. But in this past semester, I believe I have found a medium that actually suits me.
I am in love with serigraphy. Seriously. If I could, I honestly think I'd marry it.
It's weird to think that I don't have to do homework anymore. I mean, not if I don't want to. But here I am, trying my hardest to get back into school. I won't say any kind of school-I've done the liberal arts thing. Not that it's not my cup of tea, I just think I might be ready for a more specialized route (hence the baking and pastry/art school business). That prospect also terrifies me.
How do people make a living these days anyway?
I am excited.
That being said, the class is starting on Monday. I'm nervous now. The desire to do serigraphy hasn't left me. I'm just slightly unsure about what I want to work on now. It matters in a completely different sense now. I don't need the credits to graduate. I have graduated. I am just doing it to work on my process. Now, though, I want to establish some kind of a body of work. I want to apply to the Pacific Northwest College of Art, mostly just to see if I can get in. I really can't afford to go there. But I want to know if I am good enough. Is that strange?
I'm trying to see if I can actually establish myself as an artist, in the traditional sense. I'm not exactly good at drawing; though, admittedly, I haven't exactly tried to be one. I've just made art to keep my sanity, for fun. But in this past semester, I believe I have found a medium that actually suits me.
I am in love with serigraphy. Seriously. If I could, I honestly think I'd marry it.
It's weird to think that I don't have to do homework anymore. I mean, not if I don't want to. But here I am, trying my hardest to get back into school. I won't say any kind of school-I've done the liberal arts thing. Not that it's not my cup of tea, I just think I might be ready for a more specialized route (hence the baking and pastry/art school business). That prospect also terrifies me.
How do people make a living these days anyway?
Friday, May 28, 2010
Hold Steady
I'm pretty sure blogs are not really my thing. What do you think? Ok, maybe it's just timeliness that isn't my thing.
Side note: I really don't like Ashton Kutcher. It's unexplainable and probably completely unfounded but I just don't.
I just got back from Portland, a place I'm certain I will live in eventually. It is pretty amazing. I'm not into cities at all but I really enjoyed my time in Portland. I checked out two art schools and a couple of apartments. It's crazy expensive to live there (at least in comparison to Columbia) and since I'm remarkably bad with money, I imagine I'll have quite a time in Portland. BUT I really think it's something that I need to do for myself. I'm just...scared I guess. I mean, I'll be how far from my family? They are my safety net. So, no they won't be gone but it's hard to be caught when the net is a 4 hour plane ride away.
All that neuroses aside, I still do believe moving to Portland is something I can accomplish; something I need to do. To, you know, be an adult.
It's creepy to think that I'm supposed to start up my own life now; something independent from my family. I mean, in a way, sure, I've already got that. But not really though. My life is an appendage to my life with my family. It makes sense, my family is my life now. Well, I"m making the move away from that and I think that's the cause of a lot of my issues (if you can say I have issues--I think I do, not that that makes me special or something).
Another side note: I. Graduated. From. College. Whoa.
While I was in Portland, I saw the tv show Leverage shooting. I didn't get to meet any actors or anything. I was on a campus tour of the Art Institute of Portland when my mom and the Assistant Director of Admissions almost ruined their shot. Tehe. It was pretty cool though. I recognized one of the guys but for the life of me I couldn't remember his name. I wanted to go up to him and say "Hey, I loved you in Summer Catch" because it would have been funny. Not that Summer Catch was a "bad" movie, I'm sure it's just not something he's used to being remembered for. His name is Christian Kane.
Evidently Leverage shoots in Portland regularly. Another plus for moving there.
Side note: I really don't like Ashton Kutcher. It's unexplainable and probably completely unfounded but I just don't.
I just got back from Portland, a place I'm certain I will live in eventually. It is pretty amazing. I'm not into cities at all but I really enjoyed my time in Portland. I checked out two art schools and a couple of apartments. It's crazy expensive to live there (at least in comparison to Columbia) and since I'm remarkably bad with money, I imagine I'll have quite a time in Portland. BUT I really think it's something that I need to do for myself. I'm just...scared I guess. I mean, I'll be how far from my family? They are my safety net. So, no they won't be gone but it's hard to be caught when the net is a 4 hour plane ride away.
All that neuroses aside, I still do believe moving to Portland is something I can accomplish; something I need to do. To, you know, be an adult.
It's creepy to think that I'm supposed to start up my own life now; something independent from my family. I mean, in a way, sure, I've already got that. But not really though. My life is an appendage to my life with my family. It makes sense, my family is my life now. Well, I"m making the move away from that and I think that's the cause of a lot of my issues (if you can say I have issues--I think I do, not that that makes me special or something).
Another side note: I. Graduated. From. College. Whoa.
While I was in Portland, I saw the tv show Leverage shooting. I didn't get to meet any actors or anything. I was on a campus tour of the Art Institute of Portland when my mom and the Assistant Director of Admissions almost ruined their shot. Tehe. It was pretty cool though. I recognized one of the guys but for the life of me I couldn't remember his name. I wanted to go up to him and say "Hey, I loved you in Summer Catch" because it would have been funny. Not that Summer Catch was a "bad" movie, I'm sure it's just not something he's used to being remembered for. His name is Christian Kane.
Evidently Leverage shoots in Portland regularly. Another plus for moving there.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Be Elaborate. Don't Compromise
My printmaking teacher said that about our first assignment but I think it could apply to life as well. I feel like I'm always compromising, what I want in life, who I think I'm supposed to be, how I spend my time. I'm not exactly sure how or if I'm meant to 'remedy' this so called issue.
I'm sitting in the graphic design lab at the FAB, working on my capstone paper that was due yesterday (technically two days ago). I feel like that Vampire Weekend song, Giving Up the Gun. I personify that lyric Ezra sings "And though it's been a long time, you're right back where you've started from." I just went through the agony of staying up way too late to work on something that really shouldn't be this hard. This is my last semester. I should be living...well not really on easy street because this is probably one of the more important semesters of my college career.
I'm coming to realize that I've been content with a certain kind of mediocrity for most of my life. Maybe that's not fair though it really doesn't matter. I honestly cannot think of a time when I've "fired on all cylinders" so to speak. I don't know if I've ever put my full effort into something ever. I'm unsure of what that would look like. What kind of work would I be producing if I did more than just enough?
I'm not sure if I can actually accomplish doing my best at everything in life. Just thinking about it makes me tired. Especially with school work. I feel like there's a choice between doing what I think is fun or "living in the moment" and doing what I should do or "be responsible." Most days I feel like that Fiona Apple lyric "I sit and daydream. I've got daydreams galore." I almost feel like I've got next to nothing to show for the past four years. What have I accomplished here? I know that I've changed, I've grown as a person, I've challenged myself. I've spent a semester away from my country. I've learned a lot. But I don't have anything that I can actually show someone. Here, this is what I did as a college student. I don't have a comprehensive body of work, literature or art. As a senior, there's talk about portfolios, graduate applications, job interviews.
Today I overheard my print teacher talking to a student about the Whitney Biennial. They were talking about the art and how it fit into art history, its connections with other contemporary art, the feelings it generated in the viewer. I heard them and I felt left out. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to join in the conversation. I would have nothing to contribute. I feel like I don't really know anything. Like I've spent time just listening but not digesting or interpreting the information I've gathered in my life. I really feel like I"m not where I'm supposed to be. But here's the rub, I don't really know where I"m supposed to be. I don't think it's fair to judge myself based on someone else and what they've accomplished. Maybe its because I haven't done much so I won't actually measure up to anyone that's my age or in my current situation (i.e. soon to be graduating senior). I've been asked to be accountable for my future, my views on life, art, literature, everything. I feel like it's almost asking too much. How can I be accountable for all that information? I don't know what I'm doing in the future. I mean, not in any real meaningful way. I "know" what I'll be doing for the next year or so. We'll say two years. After that? I have no idea. I'm supposed to grow up and work like a real adult.
I don't know what this means. I just know that I'm tired. I'm tired of calling mediocrity high caliber work.
I'm sitting in the graphic design lab at the FAB, working on my capstone paper that was due yesterday (technically two days ago). I feel like that Vampire Weekend song, Giving Up the Gun. I personify that lyric Ezra sings "And though it's been a long time, you're right back where you've started from." I just went through the agony of staying up way too late to work on something that really shouldn't be this hard. This is my last semester. I should be living...well not really on easy street because this is probably one of the more important semesters of my college career.
I'm coming to realize that I've been content with a certain kind of mediocrity for most of my life. Maybe that's not fair though it really doesn't matter. I honestly cannot think of a time when I've "fired on all cylinders" so to speak. I don't know if I've ever put my full effort into something ever. I'm unsure of what that would look like. What kind of work would I be producing if I did more than just enough?
I'm not sure if I can actually accomplish doing my best at everything in life. Just thinking about it makes me tired. Especially with school work. I feel like there's a choice between doing what I think is fun or "living in the moment" and doing what I should do or "be responsible." Most days I feel like that Fiona Apple lyric "I sit and daydream. I've got daydreams galore." I almost feel like I've got next to nothing to show for the past four years. What have I accomplished here? I know that I've changed, I've grown as a person, I've challenged myself. I've spent a semester away from my country. I've learned a lot. But I don't have anything that I can actually show someone. Here, this is what I did as a college student. I don't have a comprehensive body of work, literature or art. As a senior, there's talk about portfolios, graduate applications, job interviews.
Today I overheard my print teacher talking to a student about the Whitney Biennial. They were talking about the art and how it fit into art history, its connections with other contemporary art, the feelings it generated in the viewer. I heard them and I felt left out. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to join in the conversation. I would have nothing to contribute. I feel like I don't really know anything. Like I've spent time just listening but not digesting or interpreting the information I've gathered in my life. I really feel like I"m not where I'm supposed to be. But here's the rub, I don't really know where I"m supposed to be. I don't think it's fair to judge myself based on someone else and what they've accomplished. Maybe its because I haven't done much so I won't actually measure up to anyone that's my age or in my current situation (i.e. soon to be graduating senior). I've been asked to be accountable for my future, my views on life, art, literature, everything. I feel like it's almost asking too much. How can I be accountable for all that information? I don't know what I'm doing in the future. I mean, not in any real meaningful way. I "know" what I'll be doing for the next year or so. We'll say two years. After that? I have no idea. I'm supposed to grow up and work like a real adult.
I don't know what this means. I just know that I'm tired. I'm tired of calling mediocrity high caliber work.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Stop Shoulding On Yourself!
So I'm bad at timely blogging. If you've ever read my blogs or met me, you should not be surprised. I am trying though. Okay, so I did forget about restarting my blog and spent the last couple of weeks just going from one thing to the next, always taking a little too long with whatever leisure time I do have.
I really wonder if this "time management" thing will ever pan out for me.
My brain always seems to be hurting lately. I spend my time thinking and trying to do what I need to for class to be a successful student. It's just so hard to be present in the here and now when I'm always about fifteen steps ahead, thinking about the future: my spring break plans have been planned for nearly three weeks. Sure, some things need to be done in advance; planning for any trip or a move for example. I usually plan lots of things in advance. I'm so busy planning and thinking that the actual doing doesn't happen in the planned time frame.
I was talking to Reid (my wonderful therapist) and he told me to "stop shoulding on yourself." Basically he means what he said. I keep thinking about how things should be. It is holding me back in being here, right now. I'm too distracted by how I think things need to be or how they were supposed to be.
Okay, lamest ending ever but I have so much to do I really can't finish cleanly. So, until next time.
I really wonder if this "time management" thing will ever pan out for me.
My brain always seems to be hurting lately. I spend my time thinking and trying to do what I need to for class to be a successful student. It's just so hard to be present in the here and now when I'm always about fifteen steps ahead, thinking about the future: my spring break plans have been planned for nearly three weeks. Sure, some things need to be done in advance; planning for any trip or a move for example. I usually plan lots of things in advance. I'm so busy planning and thinking that the actual doing doesn't happen in the planned time frame.
I was talking to Reid (my wonderful therapist) and he told me to "stop shoulding on yourself." Basically he means what he said. I keep thinking about how things should be. It is holding me back in being here, right now. I'm too distracted by how I think things need to be or how they were supposed to be.
Okay, lamest ending ever but I have so much to do I really can't finish cleanly. So, until next time.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
9 Minutes Late
I'm back!
Well, I guess I never really left. It's just that the last six months of my life have not been documented. I suppose I thought that when I got back from England-oh by the way, I did make it back- there wouldn't be anything really worth mentioning here. Who knows? Maybe there really isn't. But whatever the case, I decided to start back up with this blog thing. Besides, I'm going to graduate (!) soon. I suppose these last few months before I embark into "the great unknown" are worth noting.
I meant to do this earlier when it was still January 27 but I'm nine minutes late. Typical. I do have about 20 pages to read for my class tomorrow at 9:30 and I've started a new cycle of sleep deprivation so I don't really have time to catch up at this moment. But here are some quick and dirty moments from the last six months:
1) I came home owing people money. (I paid it back eventually)
2) I started seeing Reid (my therapist) again.
3) I started wearing contacts for real, not for fakes.
4) I had three jobs this semester: Student Ambassador for AEAS, student worker for the Columbia VA, and a teaching assistant for a learning strategies class.
5) I have a new bestie, who laughs at me when I'm being crazy and talks me off the ledges I put myself on.
6) My sister got knocked up. I'm having a nephew soon.
7) I pulled 4 all nighters in the last two weeks of last semester.
8) I spent New Years in Chicago!
Well, I guess I never really left. It's just that the last six months of my life have not been documented. I suppose I thought that when I got back from England-oh by the way, I did make it back- there wouldn't be anything really worth mentioning here. Who knows? Maybe there really isn't. But whatever the case, I decided to start back up with this blog thing. Besides, I'm going to graduate (!) soon. I suppose these last few months before I embark into "the great unknown" are worth noting.
I meant to do this earlier when it was still January 27 but I'm nine minutes late. Typical. I do have about 20 pages to read for my class tomorrow at 9:30 and I've started a new cycle of sleep deprivation so I don't really have time to catch up at this moment. But here are some quick and dirty moments from the last six months:
1) I came home owing people money. (I paid it back eventually)
2) I started seeing Reid (my therapist) again.
3) I started wearing contacts for real, not for fakes.
4) I had three jobs this semester: Student Ambassador for AEAS, student worker for the Columbia VA, and a teaching assistant for a learning strategies class.
5) I have a new bestie, who laughs at me when I'm being crazy and talks me off the ledges I put myself on.
6) My sister got knocked up. I'm having a nephew soon.
7) I pulled 4 all nighters in the last two weeks of last semester.
8) I spent New Years in Chicago!
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