movement

I need a project. Something big. Something that requires lots of creative thought and using my hands.

I want to build something or make something huuuugggeee and meeeaaannniiinnngggfffuuulll and pooowwweeerrrffuuuulll.

I need to create purpose, myself.


(There's more to life than being in love, you know.)

unresolved

so today and yesterday I've pretty much wandered around feeling lost, slept, and when I couldn't sleep anymore cried.

all I asked was one thing and you couldn't even do that. I wish you would come back so we could resolve this. I think you did it on purpose. I wish I had some other way of contacting you than fucking facebook.

soapbox

Throughout the course of information/events of last night/this morning, I've uncovered the big fucking truth about life:

1. Everything, inevitably, dies. EVERYTHING.

2. This fucking sucks and makes you feel like shit.

3. The only way not to feel like shit is to accept the fact that EVERYTHING DIES.

4. YOU WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO ACCEPT THE FACT THAT EVERYTHING DIES.

THEREFORE:

YOU WILL ALWAYS, INEVITABLY, FEEL LIKE SHIT.

so really there's no point to anything. truth and loyalty are illusions, and in the end all you have is the hollow vessel of yourself which has been filled with the various pains of earthly life.

.

fuck everyone.

no, seriously.

fuck. everyone.

things to doooooo

1. by God clean the apartment

2. make fudge and french macarons

3. mail MF his package

4. laundry times

5. organize desk and set up other computer

6. upload and edit pictures

8. write

So I got a voicemail from Tyler last night, and he's going to be back sometime Tuesday. So I have to clean my apartment so I don't completely appall his organizational tendencies. And I have to cook something delicious to say 'welcome back, hey I like you!'

goodnews

virtuoso

I'm trying my best to remember patience, kindness, love, and charity. All of these things are in short stock right now, but as long as I remind myself to get my head out of my ass at least half the time, I think I might make a decent human being yet!

Gary came over the other night for free chicken salad, a present I got him from the Ashe County Cheese Factory (Desert Fire Hot Hot Hot - with a name like that, it screamed Gary), and talky-times. We got to talking about the boys and the ladies of our lives. I'm pretty sure he very gently, very softly implied that I was acting a little like a tramp not too long ago. However, this was tempered with him telling me, in essence, that I needn't sell myself short all the time, that I'm worth waiting for, and all-in-all that I'm a good sort of person who any boy should have to work for to be with. Which I thought was very sweet of him. I'm slowly trying to learn this lesson myself.

Which leads me to T. You know, I was really doing fine with this whole "I haven't seen you in weeks and you won't be back for another 2 but I know you're having a good time so that's ok" thing until he posted pictures online and when I saw them I went "omgzerz miss yooou" like a 12 year old girl. Hmmph.

The last few days have been about reading, painting, and discovering lost joys (such as jewelry making and wine nights).

PS! I have eight types of cheese in my fridge, y'all. I am the cheese master. I should probably make a quiche.

doubt

I have been full of doubt lately. Doubt doubt doubt.

I am feeling a severe lack of personal connections and am yearning desperately for lines of communication to become re-established with certain people. Matt has a phone now, at least, so there's one. It's not the same though. I need Murphy's and two pitchers of PBRs and for us to slap the table and wildy gesticulate our intensity towards everything involving ourselves and the world around us.

I have been revisiting a mild-obsession in regards to another certain person. Which I'm trying to get over. Though I don't even know if I want to. But it'd probably be good for me.

I have been entering the strange world of abstract art. I have no idea whether to classifiy my paintings as "art" or just "Summer's experiments in X-Treme finger painting." But how would I go about classifying anything I make as "legitimate?" Must I prove my "legitimacy" in the eyes of others? And if one of the goals is to prove it's legitimacy, am I thinking more about the effects of my creativity than upon my creativity itself? Or is that all ART is -- legitimizing your creativity in front of others? If I fail to receive some sort of outside connection, is my work de-valued? Or must I create my own value of it? Is art a struggle for self-expression or a struggle for the creation of connection with the viewer? Am I revealing something about myself or to someone else? Or am I supposed to come up with some happy marriage of the two?

aarrgghh.

Pretty much all I know is I can figure out whether or not I'm finished with a painting, though I've no idea how I ever reach that conclusion.

THINGS TO REMEMBER:

Being miserable doesn't make you any less wrong, but being happy doesn't make you any more so, either.

day three

It's the morning of the third full day (as in, day off) I've had with my new apartment.  It's beginning to feel much more like my home to me.  I love that it's one big room (despite the awful dorm flash-backs I keep getting, hah), specifically because I can have it set up like I do right now:  all the furniture against the walls with 36 square feet of painting room in the middle.  I like the feeling of being able to be all up in everything.  And apparently the only reason I took black and white photography last semester is so I had enough good pictures to build an homage to my best Boone friends, ha ha ha.  Gary, Matt, Will, Emma, Kristi, and Bed are all gracing my wall in beautiful monochromism.  

I feel like I haven't been so much as just 'decorating' my apartment as I have been building a sort of shrine to myself.  Not in an unhealthy-I-am-GOD sort of way; more like a "I want to surround myself with paraphernalia of the things and people I love" sort of way.  This apartment is a labor of love.

Today:  baking my first loaf of homemade cinnamon raison bread. I'm excited to start baking things of SUBSTANCE! instead of just little treats.  Though I also need to make some little treats for Jacob's birthday, which is today.  Cupcakes maybe?  I don't know.  I have a recipe and enough almonds to make delicious FRENCH MACARONS (ohgodyes) but I don't think I'm quite up for such a degree of experimentation when I have a due date.

Right now:  black tea and listening to the sounds of King st.

June

I have not heard back from either the donut place or Galileo, the new restaurant with which I interviewed on Wednesday. So, it seems I am destined to remain at TR for now. Y'know, unless I win the lottery tonight. I won't be holding my breath.

Last night was the first night I spent in my new apartment. I almost went back to Vilas because I'm not quite set up at the new place yet, but I really needed to bond with my new space. I love it. I'm in love. It's one giant room so I can see everything, which hopefully will lead me to be more organized. I'm the type of person who has to see where absolutely everything is, or I will tear my whole house apart to find it. This way, no tearing about should be necessary, provided I organize as I unpack.

I still have one or two boxes unopened from my move in August. I think it was because at that point I was dreading having to live with a certain someone, so I was rather unattached to the whole idea/house. However, I am determined to make my new apartment my oasis. I want to feel enchanted.

That is a goal which I am trying to apply to all aspects of my life right now. I want to feel enchanted with everything around me and everything I do. I am questioning, though, whether this has more to do with occupation or mindset.

Or perhaps a combination of both. Hmm.

ALSO!
Anyone in Boone need a job?:
http://boone.craigslist.org/sls/1201082353.html