Monday, September 30, 2013
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Sunday, September 15, 2013
I've been keeping journals in one form or another since I learned to write. I have my thoughts on certain events dating back a long time and can see how my views of these situations have changed drastically. What royally pissed me off at 12 seems very insignificant now (thank god) and what left me in tears as a sophomore in high school (boys), doesn't really phase me anymore (read: the high school boys don't phase me, tears are still shed over boys because I am terrible). But there are things that happen that I don't notice while they're happening and hold no significance for me during the time. But when I remember them randomly as I'm walking or staring blankly at my history teacher (he's adorable but so so boring), they hit hard. Things that seemed simple or meaningless at 7 or 15 become profound. I come to realize that these things I thought were passing events really shaped who I am, who I've grown to be. And it makes me wonder if those things are happening to me all the time, going unnoticed. If certain people I've met in passing or little decisions I'm making all the time are going to be the same things I look back on in my 30s and either thank myself deeply for or hit myself for doing/saying/avoiding/eating (why do I still get my hamburgers cooked "well"?).
I know this is something that's been pontificated a million million times by your annoying friends at teenaged sleepovers. Kids existentializing while unknowingly spewing Dorito dust on you. I've rolled my eyes in the dark countless times, too. But it doesn't stop the fascination with it all. The wondering how all these decisions to do and not to do have shaped what is. How meaningless regret is. How important it is to keep "doing" and deciding instead of all the hesitating. To keep furthering whatever the hell is happening. And all along to remember how it felt to be 7 and 12 and 15 and how it feels, now, to be 22, because nothing is worse than growing older and forgetting how you saw the world when you were small. I find it's very easy to get wrapped up in some sad and trivial view of the world. How easy it is, for me, to see the world as "get up, go to school, come home, get some work done, try to burn some calories, try to participate in some kind of social activity, go to bed" and how it becomes this formulaic awful blob. But on the occasion I step back from that, it's really freeing. When I see things as completely without boundaries or formulas, it lets me know that all the worrying about stupid little shit is fruitless.
There's a lot of caramel stuck in my straw while I'm trying to enjoy this milkshake - thus I cannot finish this milkshake. I feel immense guilt for killing that colossal centipede in my bathtub yesterday. I am not as skilled at drawing as this tool who wears muscle shirts to class. I've come to realize just what a bumbling mess I am when presented a new person to attempt to convey my naked personality to. A smelly human just sat next to me when there were dozens of open seats. I tripped on the torn-up street (thanks a ton, Roger's Park) in front of attractive people. I was singing to myself while staring out the window and my eyes focused and I realized there was a man on the fire escape across the street staring at me. It is currently raining.
All this stuff is pointless. It's just amassing itself slowly to shape whatever my future is, but each little individual speck is so tiny and pointless that focusing on it's "negative" products is a waste of time. [So if I'm going to be depressed, I'll be depressed about the big blob of all my stupid mistakes. Obviously this is where I'm attempting to arrive.]
But what I'm really getting at is that I'm much happier deciding to "do" and, in turn, being embarrassed or wrong or hurt a little, than I was when I chose not to "do" and was comfortable (because that's all it brings- a little temporary comfort and then loads of regret). Every decision I've made this past month and a half has been significant in some little way. I'm glad I've done what I've done. I'm glad I've met who I've met and mustered up temporary "guts/balls/whatever" to do things I would have never done a year ago. And even if I came home after certain things and felt like a monumental loser, the pain of that is fleeting, but the gain from the "doing" is permanent. I know no regret. I'm building a horribly strange base for which my "future blob" to grow. And while I'm a little scared to see how I'll view all these decisions I'm making as a 30 or 40 year old (ew), it's also pretty fucking exciting. We all know the "grown" adults who have weird regrets and stories to tell are the best adults to be around. And the track I was on a year ago, I was set out to be a turd adult. "Yes, I got drunk once in Key West but then I also stayed in a loveless relationship and studied business management at a community school where I grew up and made to-do lists every morning and ate eggs."
I never know what the hell I'm saying, really. Do stupid things. Cry about them, but only for a little bit. Write them down. Revisit them later. Keep doing stupid things. Goodnight.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Saturday, September 7, 2013
First project at Columbia (Drawing 1). My teacher seemed impressed. I worry for her. (May it be known I was not the one with charcoal on my rear.) Henceforth I will refrain from self flagellation.
[blind and sighted contour drawings, charcoal, 9.6.13]