"La Bella Vita." Italian to English translation: "The Beautiful Life." This is my story of what's inspiring me and of all things that bring beauty into my day-to-day.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Painting again. :)
Today, I went shopping for art to decorate my newly in-the-process-of-being-revampified bedroom. I found nothing that I wanted to buy, but lots of inspiration, so I created my own art. It's nice to paint again. I didn't realize how much I missed it until I was actually globbing, swishing, dotting, and swirling. :)
Monday, December 6, 2010
Abundance
In our day-to-day (more like minute-to-minute) world, we are constantly trying to get more things done and better ourselves. For some strange reason, from the time we are born, we are instilled with the idea that we are not perfect, that there are things "wrong" with us. As we grow up, these ideas continue to beat our brains. "I can't" and "I'm not good enough" and "I'm not pretty enough" become normal, regularly used terminology. I read a very inspiring article in a 7 Part Affirmations Course that I downloaded from gems4friends.com (a site that contains a plethora of information on hollistic healing).
The writer begins with the topic of abundance. When we "tune into abundance, we place ourselves in line with the universal laws." We automatically become open and one with the environment. We need to be like the seasons in nature and when something feels "right", we need to take action. Resistance will just block off the flow of energy and not allow the abundance of good things to pour into our lives.
It's a hard transition, but there are ways to open up and jump-start that energy flow. One example the writer gives, is to list each and everything you are thankful for, everything from the ground, to your shoes, to the air you breath, to your digestive system, to your senses, to the love that someone gives to you. Once you start realizing all of the good things happening in your life, it's hard to dwell on the negative. When negative thoughts do prevail, which is typical in human nature, we need to befriend them and show them a better way.
I feel it would be good for me to incorporate more positive thoughts into my new routine. I was deeply inspired by this article and will begin to add affirmations dealing with abundance to my meditation.
The writer begins with the topic of abundance. When we "tune into abundance, we place ourselves in line with the universal laws." We automatically become open and one with the environment. We need to be like the seasons in nature and when something feels "right", we need to take action. Resistance will just block off the flow of energy and not allow the abundance of good things to pour into our lives.
It's a hard transition, but there are ways to open up and jump-start that energy flow. One example the writer gives, is to list each and everything you are thankful for, everything from the ground, to your shoes, to the air you breath, to your digestive system, to your senses, to the love that someone gives to you. Once you start realizing all of the good things happening in your life, it's hard to dwell on the negative. When negative thoughts do prevail, which is typical in human nature, we need to befriend them and show them a better way.
I feel it would be good for me to incorporate more positive thoughts into my new routine. I was deeply inspired by this article and will begin to add affirmations dealing with abundance to my meditation.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Burried alive
If you erase bits of your past, and cut certain people out of your life completely, will it change things? Will the guilt go away? I am tired of secrets. Keeping them is destroying my relationships. I am desperate to delete the negative and work on myself for a while. All of this negative energy is wearing me down, making me tired, sick, depressed, dependent, cold. This isn't me.
"There's only one way back into the world, and that's to talk."
No, more lies or secrets. Just open honesty. I have to dig myself out of this hole and find the light again.
"There's only one way back into the world, and that's to talk."
No, more lies or secrets. Just open honesty. I have to dig myself out of this hole and find the light again.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Project Earth
Michael Franti and Wookiefoot- "Rivers of Babylon"
This summer, Wookiefoot put together an amazing charity festival called Project Earth. It was a small, intimate event and only 1,000 tickets were sold. According to the website, "The intention of the festival was to co-create a community celebration with the event patrons. Primarily, Project Earth was an opportunity to camp together and fund raise for charitable causes. 100% of the profits for the festival went to help other communities around the globe from emergency relief, sustainability, to education and medicine. By taking the focus off the "main stage" and dividing the energy between numerous ambient performance spaces, and an atmosphere of intimate spontaneity unfolded. The idea was to focus hundreds of ticket purchasing participants to be involved in everything from prop building, theme camp design, workshop presentation, performance, family activities, promotions, clean up, etc."
The campground was divided into 7 spaces, representing the Chakras (bodies of wheel-like energy that permeate from certain points on the physical body, according to Indian medicine). The Chakras represented were Crown Chakra, Third Eye Chakra, Throat Chakra, Heart Chakra, Solar Plexus Chakra, Sacral Chakra, and Root Chakra, each representing certain themes.
This festival was an opportunity to "make art that is larger than that we can make as individuals." I really hope to be a part of this experience next summer!
Wookiefoot!
This was the most psychadelic, happy show I've ever been to! My friend Sean described it as Sublime on "Yo Gabba Gabba"...I think that description suits the group quite well. Haha! Their tribe was so positive and inspirational. They were extremely creative, positive, and had SO much love to share! Hoping to see them back in Lincoln again! :)
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Another Day Almost Faded
Today was a good day.
It didn't begin that way.
The alarm clock screamed at me much to early,
ripping my lifeless body from the warm, cozy pile of blankets and boyfriend.
I guess lots of free booz and poker until 4 am was not the best idea.
I dressed, in the same clothes from the night before,
and went directly to school.
No make-up touch-ups, my hair was loose and tangled.
I was a pale-faced zombie with dark circles under my eyes,
fighting sleep during class.
It was pulling at my eyelids, ripping them shut.
It tried to paralyze my body.
I used what was left of my energy to try and take notes.
Looking at them now, none even make sense.
I guess that's what you get when you're narcoleptic in the first place
and get no sleep, ever.
I tried to fight it, but sleep always wins.
Eventually, it did.
It was a good day today because nothing happened. Nothing bad, nothing stressful.
I came home, leaped into my mound of red satin sheets,
and that's all I remember.
Until now.
Here I am, eating a bowl of pistacio-almond ice cream,
thinking about how sick I am, thinking that this day was a good one
because I slept through it.
When I sleep, I forget about everything for a while.
Alcohol, drugs, and sleep.
They put me in a coma and make the time pass, but I feel like I'm lacking wholesomeness.
Are those things really making me happier?
I need to get out in the sun and experience again.
This sedentary way of "life" is only going to furthur my depression.
There aren't too many 60 degree days in November.
Here's to self-reflection.
3:25 and it's finally time for my good day to really begin.
It didn't begin that way.
The alarm clock screamed at me much to early,
ripping my lifeless body from the warm, cozy pile of blankets and boyfriend.
I guess lots of free booz and poker until 4 am was not the best idea.
I dressed, in the same clothes from the night before,
and went directly to school.
No make-up touch-ups, my hair was loose and tangled.
I was a pale-faced zombie with dark circles under my eyes,
fighting sleep during class.
It was pulling at my eyelids, ripping them shut.
It tried to paralyze my body.
I used what was left of my energy to try and take notes.
Looking at them now, none even make sense.
I guess that's what you get when you're narcoleptic in the first place
and get no sleep, ever.
I tried to fight it, but sleep always wins.
Eventually, it did.
It was a good day today because nothing happened. Nothing bad, nothing stressful.
I came home, leaped into my mound of red satin sheets,
and that's all I remember.
Until now.
Here I am, eating a bowl of pistacio-almond ice cream,
thinking about how sick I am, thinking that this day was a good one
because I slept through it.
When I sleep, I forget about everything for a while.
Alcohol, drugs, and sleep.
They put me in a coma and make the time pass, but I feel like I'm lacking wholesomeness.
Are those things really making me happier?
I need to get out in the sun and experience again.
This sedentary way of "life" is only going to furthur my depression.
There aren't too many 60 degree days in November.
Here's to self-reflection.
3:25 and it's finally time for my good day to really begin.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Far-out artist of the day: John Coulthart
I have discovered a new love: British designer, artist, writer, and illustrator John Coulthart. You can read his journals and check out all of his works at his website http://www.johncoulthart.com/. I'm particularly intrigued by his more psychadelic pieces such as his Alice in Wonderland interpretations and "Acid Mothers" and "Angel Passage". Very cool.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Inspiration: The Guerrilla Girls
Who are the Guerrilla Girls? The Guerrilla Girls are a group of active radical feminist women, who aim to expose the world to gender-based discrimination.
What started the "madness"? The group began in 1985, when a group of women attended the "International Survey of Painting and Sculpture" at New York City's Museum of Modern Art. The women were concerned that the museum was underrepresenting women artists. The numbers show just how correct they were. A whopping 5% of the artwork was done by women. 5%!!! Ironically, 85% of the nudes in the museum featured female models. The women began their feminist protests and have since continued to expand, all around the world. The women are now broken into three different groups that talk about more than just sexism. They focus on presenting awareness to the community on many kinds of discrimination, including racism and social injustice, through their posters, artwork, films, books, lectures, and theatrical prodctions, all while wearing gorilla masks.
The Guerrilla Girls are such an inspiration to me because of how their radical actions changed the art world. I'm very inspired to, when I feel like something is wrong, study it and find a way to do something about it. Whether it's while wearing a gorilla mask and creating funny posters with disturbing statistics to grab people's attention, you should always "stand up for what you believe in."
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Soul Food
Music to feed my soul: "Through the Dark"
In the words of KT Tunstall and Martin Terefe:
"As I walk away, I look over my shoulder
to find what I'm leaving behind.
Pieces of puzzles and wishes on eyelashes fail.
Oh, how do I show all the love inside my heart?
Well this is all new, and I'm feeling my way through the dark.
And I used to talk of honest conviction,
and how I predicted my words.
I'm gonna leave it to star gazers.
Tell me what your telescope says.
Oh, what is in store for me now? It's coming apart.
I know that it's true, 'cause I'm feeling my way through the dark.
Tryin' to find a light on somewhere.
Tryin' to find a light on somewhere.
I'm finding I'm falling in love with the dark over here.
Oh, what do I know? I don't care. Where do I start?
For my troubles are few as I'm feeling my way through the dark."
In the words of KT Tunstall and Martin Terefe:
"As I walk away, I look over my shoulder
to find what I'm leaving behind.
Pieces of puzzles and wishes on eyelashes fail.
Oh, how do I show all the love inside my heart?
Well this is all new, and I'm feeling my way through the dark.
And I used to talk of honest conviction,
and how I predicted my words.
I'm gonna leave it to star gazers.
Tell me what your telescope says.
Oh, what is in store for me now? It's coming apart.
I know that it's true, 'cause I'm feeling my way through the dark.
Tryin' to find a light on somewhere.
Tryin' to find a light on somewhere.
I'm finding I'm falling in love with the dark over here.
Oh, what do I know? I don't care. Where do I start?
For my troubles are few as I'm feeling my way through the dark."
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Emancipation
It started with the wine.
Smooth and unusually sweet, it slid over my tongue and made its way down my throat.
With each drink, I felt heavier.
The pressure of my conscious guard, dissipating into nothingness, was immense.
I became more raw, more vulnerable,
and as I emptied the bottle, I began to empty myself also.
Secrets.
Secrets that have been held captive by my insecurity began to crawl from within me.
I knew the two faces sitting across from me wanted to know what it was that had been eating me up lately.
These secrets, buried for so long have been gnawing at my mind, at my heart.
They changed me, controlled me. They forced me to make stupid decisions.
How can I possibly smile and love everyone, when all I can think about is how cruel people are.
Why did they hurt me so much? Why did they steal my innocence?
Why did I give up a piece of my soul to desperation?
My eyes pressed together,
cold, bitter jailers trying so hard to contain the imprisoned tears from escaping.
Once I set them free, they would tell everyone of the horrors they had witnessed,
horrors that were slowly killing me.
I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't contain them.
The last sip of wine made its way into my body,
and the tears began to spill.
Secrets began to spill.
I was weak, terrified that they might tell somebody.
I anticipated the judgment and sheer hatred,
and I buried my face in my hands.
Then, suddenly, they were right by my side.
They hugged me.
They told me everything was going to be ok.
I was confused.
"But how can you know? How can you know these things won't come back to haunt me?"
"They already have. I can't believe you never told anyone. Everything is going to be ok. You are going to be ok."
...and for once, I actually believed it.
For the first time in a long time, I feel ok.
It's taken years and a lot of trust to be able to let this out.
I never realized how free I would feel.
Dealing with it alone was only causing detriment and depression.
I feel so lucky to have honest, real, beautiful people in my life.
Friendship is truly a blessing.
Smooth and unusually sweet, it slid over my tongue and made its way down my throat.
With each drink, I felt heavier.
The pressure of my conscious guard, dissipating into nothingness, was immense.
I became more raw, more vulnerable,
and as I emptied the bottle, I began to empty myself also.
Secrets.
Secrets that have been held captive by my insecurity began to crawl from within me.
I knew the two faces sitting across from me wanted to know what it was that had been eating me up lately.
These secrets, buried for so long have been gnawing at my mind, at my heart.
They changed me, controlled me. They forced me to make stupid decisions.
How can I possibly smile and love everyone, when all I can think about is how cruel people are.
Why did they hurt me so much? Why did they steal my innocence?
Why did I give up a piece of my soul to desperation?
My eyes pressed together,
cold, bitter jailers trying so hard to contain the imprisoned tears from escaping.
Once I set them free, they would tell everyone of the horrors they had witnessed,
horrors that were slowly killing me.
I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't contain them.
The last sip of wine made its way into my body,
and the tears began to spill.
Secrets began to spill.
I was weak, terrified that they might tell somebody.
I anticipated the judgment and sheer hatred,
and I buried my face in my hands.
Then, suddenly, they were right by my side.
They hugged me.
They told me everything was going to be ok.
I was confused.
"But how can you know? How can you know these things won't come back to haunt me?"
"They already have. I can't believe you never told anyone. Everything is going to be ok. You are going to be ok."
...and for once, I actually believed it.
For the first time in a long time, I feel ok.
It's taken years and a lot of trust to be able to let this out.
I never realized how free I would feel.
Dealing with it alone was only causing detriment and depression.
I feel so lucky to have honest, real, beautiful people in my life.
Friendship is truly a blessing.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Falling down the rabbit hole.
Computer status= was broken, now fixed, now can blog. "And now...for the rest of the story."
It was a cool, crisp autumn night. My heart was racing with excitement for the evening's festivities. One of my favorite live groups, EOTO, would be playing at the Bourbon Theatre. I walked briskly as the layers of my multi-colored skirt danced in the breeze. Suddenly, I was welcomed by a familiar sight that always brings a huge smile to my face. People of all shapes and sizes, dressed in wild colors and costumes, many with dreads down their backs, dancing, smoking cigarettes, sitting against the wall and people-watching, anticipating the show. It doesn't sound like much, but I had been waiting all night for this. I walked inside and the surroundings quickly faded to black, with neon, glowing light-sticks waving, beams of rainbows circling the room. The beats were hot and everyone was dancing. All I could think about was how my night was going to get more and more exciting. As time moved forward, my mind began to rearrange itself. Things began to shape-shift. The music got louder, more intense. I could feel it start to run through my veins. It was as if we were passionate lovers, becoming one. It moved my body. Stomping, twisting, waving my arms, closing my eyes and letting my hair unwind, free and wild, I let go of all inhibitions. The lights flashed. Strobes made everything move faster. Bongos. My heart pounded, thudded. Whomps. My feet stomped. All night, I danced, letting loose every ounce of stress from within my soul. I had, once again, returned to the rabbit hole, everything a swirl of colors and geometric patterns, everything so much more beautiful. In that moment, I could be myself and not care what anyone thought.
It's amazing the power that letting go for a minute can give you.
Only when I'm falling down, down, down...
colors and shapes,
bright lights,
music
...do I ever feel free.
Stress has taken its toll on me this week.
Tonight, though, I will be better.
Tonight, I will return.
It was a cool, crisp autumn night. My heart was racing with excitement for the evening's festivities. One of my favorite live groups, EOTO, would be playing at the Bourbon Theatre. I walked briskly as the layers of my multi-colored skirt danced in the breeze. Suddenly, I was welcomed by a familiar sight that always brings a huge smile to my face. People of all shapes and sizes, dressed in wild colors and costumes, many with dreads down their backs, dancing, smoking cigarettes, sitting against the wall and people-watching, anticipating the show. It doesn't sound like much, but I had been waiting all night for this. I walked inside and the surroundings quickly faded to black, with neon, glowing light-sticks waving, beams of rainbows circling the room. The beats were hot and everyone was dancing. All I could think about was how my night was going to get more and more exciting. As time moved forward, my mind began to rearrange itself. Things began to shape-shift. The music got louder, more intense. I could feel it start to run through my veins. It was as if we were passionate lovers, becoming one. It moved my body. Stomping, twisting, waving my arms, closing my eyes and letting my hair unwind, free and wild, I let go of all inhibitions. The lights flashed. Strobes made everything move faster. Bongos. My heart pounded, thudded. Whomps. My feet stomped. All night, I danced, letting loose every ounce of stress from within my soul. I had, once again, returned to the rabbit hole, everything a swirl of colors and geometric patterns, everything so much more beautiful. In that moment, I could be myself and not care what anyone thought.
It's amazing the power that letting go for a minute can give you.
Only when I'm falling down, down, down...
colors and shapes,
bright lights,
music
...do I ever feel free.
Stress has taken its toll on me this week.
Tonight, though, I will be better.
Tonight, I will return.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Inspiration: The Tree Project
"The head bone's connected to the neck bone,
The neck bone's connected to the shoulder bone..."
I wish there was an elementary school song to help me remember all of the bones, sutures, fossas, foramen....
"The frontal bone's conected to the parietal bone,
The parietal bone's connected to the occipital bone...."
It just doesn't sound as pleasant.
Anatomy is kicking my ass.
The only thing that's been keeping me semi-sane is the gorgeous weather and the beauty that is autumn, especially the trees.
Therefore, I have decided to explore the depths of my creative soul and begin a new project.
I need some art in my life.
"The Tree Project!"
Very creative, I know.
I have chosen to put my digital camera to work and photograph trees...
Tall trees,
Short trees,
Wide trees,
Crooked trees,
Swirly ones, jaggedy ones, and pointy ones,
Soft trees,
Magestic trees...
What I'm going to do with them, I don't know yet.
We'll see where inspiration leads me.
The neck bone's connected to the shoulder bone..."
I wish there was an elementary school song to help me remember all of the bones, sutures, fossas, foramen....
"The frontal bone's conected to the parietal bone,
The parietal bone's connected to the occipital bone...."
It just doesn't sound as pleasant.
Anatomy is kicking my ass.
The only thing that's been keeping me semi-sane is the gorgeous weather and the beauty that is autumn, especially the trees.
Therefore, I have decided to explore the depths of my creative soul and begin a new project.
I need some art in my life.
"The Tree Project!"
Very creative, I know.
I have chosen to put my digital camera to work and photograph trees...
Tall trees,
Short trees,
Wide trees,
Crooked trees,
Swirly ones, jaggedy ones, and pointy ones,
Soft trees,
Magestic trees...
What I'm going to do with them, I don't know yet.
We'll see where inspiration leads me.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Philosophy of a Toothache
Do your wisdom teeth give you more wisdom when they start to show?
Or do they just give you wisdom of intense, throbbing pain?
...Because I seriously think I am fine without it.
Why do they even call them wisdom teeth anyway?
Because you get them when you're more wise?
I don't think I'm much more wise today than I was a week ago.
They should call them "you suck teeth" or
"why do you even exist teeth" or
"teeth that ruin your perfectly good day by giving you a headache and making you grouchy".
Or do they just give you wisdom of intense, throbbing pain?
...Because I seriously think I am fine without it.
Why do they even call them wisdom teeth anyway?
Because you get them when you're more wise?
I don't think I'm much more wise today than I was a week ago.
They should call them "you suck teeth" or
"why do you even exist teeth" or
"teeth that ruin your perfectly good day by giving you a headache and making you grouchy".
Monday, October 4, 2010
Peacemaker
So many times
she's cried to me,
yelled at me,
lied to me.
So many times
she's hurt me,
bruised me,
disturbed me.
I've cried because she wouldn't listen.
I've cried because she destroyed things dear to my heart.
But this time, it was different.
She called me last night,
in sheer agony
and terror.
I could barely comprehend her words,
so sloppily meshed with her sobs and tears.
She's just a baby,
only 17,
carrying a burden heavier than I've ever known,
a baby of her own.
This time she came to me,
scared,
alone,
unsure of what to do.
Her man doesn't want her anymore.
She's too terrified to even tell mom and dad.
"You're not a failure,
life is full of unexpected surprises.
This could be a beautiful thing," I told her.
I tried to be positive.
She's not ready.
She's like an infant, trying to pick up a huge boulder.
It's so heavy, it's crushing her to the ground.
So many times
I've cared for her,
relaxed her,
been there for her.
So many times
I've forgiven her,
made her smile,
and driven her.
It means a lot that she came to me.
It shows that even though I never recognized it before,
she does love me.
She does appreciate everything.
And for that,
I'd do anything for my sister.
I wish her courage, strength, and an optimistic mind through all of this.
Because really,
I appreciate and love her, too.
she's cried to me,
yelled at me,
lied to me.
So many times
she's hurt me,
bruised me,
disturbed me.
I've cried because she wouldn't listen.
I've cried because she destroyed things dear to my heart.
But this time, it was different.
She called me last night,
in sheer agony
and terror.
I could barely comprehend her words,
so sloppily meshed with her sobs and tears.
She's just a baby,
only 17,
carrying a burden heavier than I've ever known,
a baby of her own.
This time she came to me,
scared,
alone,
unsure of what to do.
Her man doesn't want her anymore.
She's too terrified to even tell mom and dad.
"You're not a failure,
life is full of unexpected surprises.
This could be a beautiful thing," I told her.
I tried to be positive.
She's not ready.
She's like an infant, trying to pick up a huge boulder.
It's so heavy, it's crushing her to the ground.
So many times
I've cared for her,
relaxed her,
been there for her.
So many times
I've forgiven her,
made her smile,
and driven her.
It means a lot that she came to me.
It shows that even though I never recognized it before,
she does love me.
She does appreciate everything.
And for that,
I'd do anything for my sister.
I wish her courage, strength, and an optimistic mind through all of this.
Because really,
I appreciate and love her, too.
Friday, October 1, 2010
October
It seems a little surreal that I'm standing in the midst of autumn once again.
Every treasure that the season unburries, day by day, holds special meaning to my heart.
It makes me look back and reflect on "the good days", when I didn't have a care in the world.
"The good days."
I'm struggling with them now,
to mend things that I thought at the time were innocent, and would never harm anyone,
especially myself.
It's a lot of weight to carry and I often times dream about going back to that place.
Fixing mistakes before they happen.
Is there a way to experience those joyous treasures without reaping any detriments in the future?
I want to be alone for a while.
I want to watch the sun set and transform the colorful leaves into glowing flakes of gold.
They will grasp the tree branches in their final days, gripping as long as they can before falling to the ground, no longer having anything to hold on to.
I am the branches. The leaves are my mistakes. With the new autumn, I will let them go and start fresh.
I want to reflect,
work on my subtle changes.
Fix everything.
The new month brings new life.
New life brings opportunity.
I welcome you, October, with open arms.
Every treasure that the season unburries, day by day, holds special meaning to my heart.
It makes me look back and reflect on "the good days", when I didn't have a care in the world.
"The good days."
I'm struggling with them now,
to mend things that I thought at the time were innocent, and would never harm anyone,
especially myself.
It's a lot of weight to carry and I often times dream about going back to that place.
Fixing mistakes before they happen.
Is there a way to experience those joyous treasures without reaping any detriments in the future?
I want to be alone for a while.
I want to watch the sun set and transform the colorful leaves into glowing flakes of gold.
They will grasp the tree branches in their final days, gripping as long as they can before falling to the ground, no longer having anything to hold on to.
I am the branches. The leaves are my mistakes. With the new autumn, I will let them go and start fresh.
I want to reflect,
work on my subtle changes.
Fix everything.
The new month brings new life.
New life brings opportunity.
I welcome you, October, with open arms.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Subtle changes
Splashes of red, gold, and brown are beginning to paint the leaves,
signifying change.
Mornings and evenings are crisp and cool,
while the afternoons, warm.
The sun wraps its arms around me and I never want to leave outside.
Flavors of spicy cinnamon and nutmeg,
sweet pumpkin and juicy, tart apples.
The smell of dead leaves reminds me that summer's life is fading quickly,
soon to turn into the bitter cold of winter.
Everything is changing, including me.
I'm making subtle changes.
My diet.
I'm running.
I'm trying to be a better person for myself and others.
Perhaps this is what I need to get through the annual depression that
the cold brings me...
To create life of that which is dead within me.
Splashes of true joy, true happiness, and love paint my face,
signifying change.
signifying change.
Mornings and evenings are crisp and cool,
while the afternoons, warm.
The sun wraps its arms around me and I never want to leave outside.
Flavors of spicy cinnamon and nutmeg,
sweet pumpkin and juicy, tart apples.
The smell of dead leaves reminds me that summer's life is fading quickly,
soon to turn into the bitter cold of winter.
Everything is changing, including me.
I'm making subtle changes.
My diet.
I'm running.
I'm trying to be a better person for myself and others.
Perhaps this is what I need to get through the annual depression that
the cold brings me...
To create life of that which is dead within me.
Splashes of true joy, true happiness, and love paint my face,
signifying change.
Painting (acrylic on panel): Duy Huynh, "Awakening (Metamorphasis of the Leaf Butterfly)"
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Amour
"I am thinking it's a sign,
that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images,
and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned..."
Last night, Tony and I took a huge step in our relationship.
I finally feel like I can trust him enough to open up my heart and talk to him about things.
He did push me a little bit.
He told me he has a hard time talking to me about personal things when I can never open up to him.
I know I'm secluded.
I rarely speak my mind.
I try to seem bubbly and happy all the time.
Sometimes I am.
"...And I have to speculate,
that God himself did make us into corresponding shapes,
like puzzle pieces from the clay..."
So I told him. The big one.
I broke down completely and really haven't felt the same since.
It's nerve-racking to think about "what if."
What if he told?
Does he judge me?
What if he says something to that person?
"...And true,
it may seem like a stretch,
but it's thoughts like this that catch my troubled head
When you're away and I am missing you to death..."
He won't.
I trust him.
He doesn't judge me.
It's not my fault. He can't.
I know he cares and that he knows how important this is to me.
I know he loves me.
And I love him.
I love him.
"...They will see us waving from such great heights.
'Come down now,' they'll say.
But everything looks perfect from far away.
'Come down now.'
But we'll stay."
-Such Great Heights by, Dusty Dewan
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Motivation
8:30 AM.
Philosophy class.
Ryle states that our moods are like weather conditions.
Today's forcast: Partly cloudy.
No rain, but definitely a chance.
Also, it's quite probable that the sun will pop out any second.
I'm on the verge of having a breakdown,
but before it happens, I need to focus.
Clean. Things. Up.
"Let the sunshine it!" -Hair
Todays tasks seem daunting:
Do the dishes, do the laundry,
scrub the toilet, make the bed.
Wipe the counters, spray the windows,
yes, I'll prob'ly lose my head.
It reminds me of that song,
"Cinderelly, Cinderelly!
Nice and gay is Cinderelly." -Cinderella
Motivational vibe for the day?
The Born Ruffians Pandora station.
Maybe once things are organized a little bit,
Mr. Sun might just "shine down on me."
Philosophy class.
Ryle states that our moods are like weather conditions.
Today's forcast: Partly cloudy.
No rain, but definitely a chance.
Also, it's quite probable that the sun will pop out any second.
I'm on the verge of having a breakdown,
but before it happens, I need to focus.
Clean. Things. Up.
"Let the sunshine it!" -Hair
Todays tasks seem daunting:
Do the dishes, do the laundry,
scrub the toilet, make the bed.
Wipe the counters, spray the windows,
yes, I'll prob'ly lose my head.
It reminds me of that song,
"Cinderelly, Cinderelly!
Nice and gay is Cinderelly." -Cinderella
Motivational vibe for the day?
The Born Ruffians Pandora station.
Maybe once things are organized a little bit,
Mr. Sun might just "shine down on me."
Monday, September 20, 2010
Fire
Dry, dead leaves and twigs are piled high, filling the dark hole in the earth,
alongside crumbled newspapers holding tales of the week's misery.
The pile is cold, lifeless.
It can't breathe. The colors are merely brown, grey, and black.
It's missing something.
It's missing everything.
A lit match somehow finds it's way into the mound of rubbage.
Suddenly, the dead pile has new life.
Born again.
The newspapers, filled with horrible stories from the past vanish into a pile of ash.
They no longer matter.
Flames roar and dance, intertwining and wrapping their arms around one another.
It's hot, passionate, fast, furious.
It goes on for quite some time, providing warmth to all that surrounds it.
Golden happiness.
But even the happiest of things don't last forever.
The fire begins to slowly die, transforming into a tiny pile of glowing embers.
They're still warm and they have the potential to grow again, but the passion is gone.
Right now, there's a chance that it could burn out completely.
I don't want it to.
Rekindle the flame!
I want fire. I want to burn forever.
Today felt like a good day to start fresh with everything. I've erased all my old blogs in hopes of "cleaning my slate", burning those newspapers. True, it won't change the things that have happened, but I don't need a constant reminder of them either. Here's to indulging in creativity. Why complain when I can create art instead?
alongside crumbled newspapers holding tales of the week's misery.
The pile is cold, lifeless.
It can't breathe. The colors are merely brown, grey, and black.
It's missing something.
It's missing everything.
A lit match somehow finds it's way into the mound of rubbage.
Suddenly, the dead pile has new life.
Born again.
The newspapers, filled with horrible stories from the past vanish into a pile of ash.
They no longer matter.
Flames roar and dance, intertwining and wrapping their arms around one another.
It's hot, passionate, fast, furious.
It goes on for quite some time, providing warmth to all that surrounds it.
Golden happiness.
But even the happiest of things don't last forever.
The fire begins to slowly die, transforming into a tiny pile of glowing embers.
They're still warm and they have the potential to grow again, but the passion is gone.
Right now, there's a chance that it could burn out completely.
I don't want it to.
Rekindle the flame!
I want fire. I want to burn forever.
Today felt like a good day to start fresh with everything. I've erased all my old blogs in hopes of "cleaning my slate", burning those newspapers. True, it won't change the things that have happened, but I don't need a constant reminder of them either. Here's to indulging in creativity. Why complain when I can create art instead?
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