Monday, June 20, 2011

"The only way I can feel the least bit important is to think of all the mud that didn't even get to sit up and look around." Vonnegut

I've been doing quite a bit of reading, of thinking, and of drawing...therefore, a lot of being alone. I found myself writing this today:

I guess life is a road, and in traveling that road you sometimes find yourself on a path that seems un-invigorating and monotonous. You think back and forward and you wonder how things could really feel any different--no matter what part of the earth your road is on. You realize the reality of your reality. You realize that you exist and you are walking. You are tangible and you are experiencing the experiences. Life is actual--it is real, and the fact that it seems un-invigorating is sort of daunting and hopeless. But it gets better. Then it gets bad again, and that's the cycle. Sometimes the cycle happens in a day and sometimes it takes a few weeks.

My reality got better today with the discovery of Esperanza Spalding. This lady...oh this lady. She's got it. I'm mesmerized.

"lucky me, lucky mud."


I like the thought of mud.

Friday, June 17, 2011

"Here is life, an experiment to a great extent untried by me..." Thoreau

So many people don't like to be alone, but I think that's when you really find out who you are. You are limited to conversation with yourself, and you are forced to face yourself. The time is yours to act, think, wonder, experiment, explore, say and grow in whatever direction and way with no outside eyes peering in at you. It's a time for you to make up your own mind without the distraction of what they think. It's a time to delve deeper, to rethink thoughts and to pick at old resolutions. It's a time of discovery. Many people don't allow themselves this time. Perhaps that's why so many people seem like a singular blurry mass. Of course, it's all about balance, everything is about balance. A person needs a period of being immersed in society to balance the time of solitude. For me, when I'm alone the clutter of the constant information thrown at me in social situations slowly clears and my thoughts are able to seep back fully and wholly. When you are alone, there is nothing there to judge you...except for maybe the moon.


She's there, peeking at you. I went to Tybee to watch her rise a couple of days ago. It was too cloudy at first to see, but eventually I was caught off guard by the faint hue of orange seeping through the thick blue grey clouds. It's hard to describe the joy I felt, it's strange how much joy I felt, when I saw it. My hands clenched and I started laughing out loud. It felt good to feel that happy. She's a rock of reassurance and spending time with her rejuvenated and motivated me. I left feeling completely content and satisfied.


While I sat on the beach and looked towards her I noticed that as she got higher, the golden reflections on the ocean intensified. I started trying to describe it to myself and realized that all I could think about were artificial objects to compare it to. It's hard to relate something to an existing thing that someone will recognize, when the thing your trying to describe is like nothing else. But I started to write and this is what I got "I'm looking at the reflection of the full moon on the ocean. It's the color of fire and nothing. They ungulate between each other. They are slithers and clumps gliding and colliding into and out of one another. They move in a slow rhythm that comes towards me. The fire is continuously reaching for me but never arriving. It just keeps coming and never stops but never fully makes it."

it was a good night.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

slow ride

The slow route seems to be the most rewarding. It's interesting how life sometimes forces you to slow down. Because of my inability to put air in bike tires with a manual pump, I had to walk home last night. As I did so, I passed a large rectangular ground light...aka an insect graveyard. As I passed it I heard some clinking around, so I turned back to investigate. And low and behold... it was a cicada :) I'd never seen a live one after it has molted. It made me smile. So, I rescued it from it's burning demise and took him home with me. He was a lot smaller than I've known cicadas to be. As we walked home he crawled over my hands and up my arms. I took him upstairs and drew him. As he hung out on my finger I felt a pinch. I turned him around to see that he was piercing me with his straw mouth. He thought I was a plant and was trying to suck out my sap! At that point I learned that even with his seemingly broken wing, that he could fly. I observed and read later that cicadas are TERRIBLE flyers. He kept running into EVERYTHING..but always landed back on me. It was real sweet, obviously it meant nothing..or that he could feel that I was warm..but it was still sweet.



Also, my cowbutts made the SCAD website. awesome.


Thursday, June 9, 2011

Oh Wyoming.

It's been a really long time since I've posted anything. I've attempted to a few times.... but I just come up blank. The end of this last semester has been decorated with quite a few self-conscious uncertainties in multiple aspects of my life. But it's also been sprinkled with great times, loving friends, and wonderful I guess it balances out.

One thing is for certain, and I know I dote on it a lot... I really miss Moose, Wyoming and all that comes with it. Many of my most favorite people are there together right now enjoying those magical and breathtaking mountains...and I yyyeeeaaaarrrn for it all. Despite the fact that in a little over a month I will be in London and then later South France, when I think about Wyoming I literally feel nervous and weak with want. It's such a weird thing.

To be inside a labyrinth of ginormous masses of earth, on a path which seemed to always lead to a secret water filled bellybutton....where the earth became quieted upon arrival and accomplishment was felt whole heartedly....secrets were shared between a few strangers who'd soon become life long friends. Pasts were shared, lows and highs, aspirations and regrets, but most importantly, the present was shared with the same vigor and amazement. Those feelings I got were so unbelievable, and to know that the breathing life beside me felt the same thing....It's just hard to have words for how it makes me feel now. Wyoming has pushed me so hard, it has taught me so much, and it still touches me every time I see a slight rise on the flat earth, or an elk or a moose, or snow, the moon, ice cream and coffee, cowboy hats, the color sage or anything similar, tree sap, burrowing ants, a lake, baggy pants, bluegrass, pbr, black birds, artichokes, rice crispy treats, and harrison ford...the list could go on forever. That summer will always be with me. breath. On to the next one!


Change is good. Newness is exciting. And I'll be ready when its time. It all just takes time.