Wonders

School started this week. It's been good, albiet long and tiring, and often leaving me burning whatever few calories I'm able to consume in between class. But still, it's enjoyable, and in a strange way, I'm glad to be back. I've been reading, and studying, and reading some more, trying to keep up and get a head start on the looming midterms and eventual finals. Trying to remember.

Sometimes I wonder what allows us to remember.  I know I've studied about the brain in Psychology, and learned about the hippocampus, the ear canal and other contributing factors to the memory storage in our brains. But something I can take weeks to study somehow gets...left behind, in a way, by the random, "nearly unimportant" parts of life that I can recall in an instant.  Like a fact, a name, an instance.

Back to the beginning of last paragraph. What allows us to remember? A personal desire, wish, connection to the subject?  I can reflect and recall names, instances, smells, scenery...nearly recreating an entire experience in my mind, verbatim with what happened.  Easily.  We all have things that trigger a chain-reaction, such as a smell (it's incredibly amazing how intense a reaction I have to some), a phrase, a look, a place, a name...you get the picture.  And yet there are some things, some experiences that we all try to block out and erase because we regret them in some way. 

So there must be a part of the personal will involved here. 

Perhaps this is too deep for tonight. Perhaps it's just me trying to unwind from a level of intense and critical thinking. (Not to say that I successfully maintained that level today, although my language may dictate otherwise...) Perhaps it's a fond memory in itself, when I think of someone, and a whole list of memories comes rushing back, and a part of me wishes for that time, and yet another part has already moved on, and is waiting with a smile for me to keep walking.  I suppose I'll always keep walking, in a way.  It's in my heritage.  Some part of that Stubborn-King-Streak that's in me. Which I believe, along with other things, is what kept me alive this time six years ago.  Wow.  That is another story for another day, although if you're curious, go back a year on this blog and you'll understand better.  Not perfectly.  But.  Better.

You know that song by Anna Nalick, "Breathe (2AM)"? She has a line in her song that says how "life's like an hourglass glued to the table".....And that in itself is just one of an entire crew of thoughts and memories that came up. About change. About life. About songs, and music, and love, and finding out who you are and who you want to be, in the midst of chaos.  I suppose I've been one who is curious, and about things that people say who's logic makes complete sense in my mind. With the hourglass- "yes, it may be glued to the table. But...the table's not glued to the floor, is it?"  And I'd have this image of a wooden table on it's flip side.  Point?  Memories, and thoughts and imagination can create the greatest magic and wonder inside of us than the world could ever imagine.  My points may not make complete sense to you now, tomorrow, or ever. But for me...

...I'm left with proof that a magic of sorts exists. 11:11.

Truly, though, isn't that what thoughts and memories are?  Magic.

Lemme know what you think.

Love, Me.

This is the view...

...in my room.

Jealous?

I'd be surprised if you weren't. ;)

This has been my summer-long project. My good friend Maestro and I started this at the end of June, with ideas and practice sketches and paintings on paper, collaborating ideas in May, and putting the first strokes on in June. 

We started with the grass and a dark base coat on the oak (?) tree. The "shadows" you see of the branches are leftover paint I had from painting the rest of my room the light blue you see on the left.  This took a couple hours.

This stayed for a while as both of us traveled during July, then at the beginning of August, Maestro's sister Skipper joined us and we got this done:

The two outside trees are aspens, with a dark blue/black base coat.

Skipper did the mountains and...trees? Plus great technical support. ;)

That's us and the wall after a few hours of work...and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix paying on the laptop in the foreground...in case you were wondering. ;)

Rock. And grass. and flowers. :)

Maestro. ;) She did the trees, mountain texture, field texture, and flowers. And probably some sky.

Who knew I could have something like this? ;) I did basics- grass, sky, and supplied the wall.

After 5 hours of painting on Monday, we were done. :)

I learned a lot doing this. How to have a different kind of patience, how to blend things, I got to see another style, and experienced more boldness that turned out to be the greatest masterpiece of a painting that I could hope for. We may add leaves later on, but for now...I like my view. :) Thanks to all the lovely ladies who helped with this project: Mom, Maestro, Skipper, Martha Stuart for your paint, and families....  Maestro was phenomenal during all of this. She'd take my ideas in and understand my vision, then paint something I never knew we could. I'd be like, "Maes, I know blue and yellow makes green. But I'm getting grey! Help!" and she'd make green. I'd say "Can we add flowers?" and ka-ZAM there were flowers. Thanks, Maes, you're a lifesaver, and a great friend. :)

Basically, I love this. It's turned out even more amazing than I could have ever dreamed of doing on my own. And it's taken a lot more time than I thought it would....which is why we faded out the rest of the wall. If we want to add on in the future, I'm sure we could. For now, though, I've had a good time, and have lots to show for it.  By the way, for those who know where Arco is, does the mountain remind you of anything as you're driving from the Junction to Arco? I think it does. ;)

Sometimes adventure doesn't have to leave your home. :)

Love, Me.

Waiting...

Waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting........

What am I waiting for?


Hmm.








Let's put a pin in this one.

Love, Me.

Life

Sometimes I don't know what to do.
Should I sit? Sing? Dance? Draw?
So I get on here, and blog.

Sometimes my insides just sit there and wait,
Just sit there and sit there,
Doing nothing. Barey moving, barely noticable.

Others a part of my soul is pushing at all parts of reality,

Trapped,

And can hardly contain a gut-wrenching scream to all parts of the universe.

Sometimes a part of me wants to sit in a hammock,
In my own little corner of the world,
And sit there and weep and breathe and cry.

Occasionally I'll get anxious, and restless,
And my fingers will play long, fast scales up and down the keyboard.
So long and hard it makes my arms ache.

Sometimes I stay up late into the night,

Because I can't sleep, can't dream.

Can't dream. For all the sweetness it brings, waking hurts.

Once I sat out with a friend, watching a movies under the stars.
I sat for long periods of time watching the sky,
And the moon, and the stars. Forgoing the movie. Just observing.

Sometimes I just want to talk.
Just talk. Remember. Nothing else.
Just, talk.

Of course, just as often I'd rather listen.
Hear others express themselves.
Because it's nice to be heard.

Sometimes I wonder, how can someone be so torn, so confused?

Content, and filled with longing at the same time?

Wonder, and yet know the reason why the whole time?

One day I'll know. I'll be fine.

Til then, I'll keep walking down this long, dusty road.

Longing, Listening, Loving. Learning.

Love, Me.