I was talking to my mom yesterday, and she was saying how sometimes I say things on here that make her cringe, cause in my shoes she wouldn't say it. I know what she means. what I don't know is why I feel the need to send these things out into the great unknown. or why I feel the need to tell people things all the time - most of the time, I have no reason to trust those people with those things, but I do it anyway. sometimes I wish I wouldn't. sometimes it makes things not as profound anymore when I repeat them all over the place. maybe that's the unconscious goal, to make things not so important, that if I say it over and over, it'll fade away and so will all of my problems and emotions.
it's really important to me to not censor myself on this blog. of course, there's some self-censoring inherent in any kind of self-expression, especially writing because you have the extra filter of having to physically write it out rather than just saying it or keeping it in. but in general, I've always thought it was crucially important to me to say what I want to say regardless of who reads this, because this method of self-expression is mostly for me. I love that people read this and enjoy and appreciate it, and I love the thought that something I've written can make a difference to someone or give them something greater. that's what I love about writing in general, that's why I share my poetry, otherwise, it would just be for me and I would keep it to myself.
so yes, I share these thoughts with you. this is not my journal, I already have one of those. there are certainly things I don't say here. but there are things I put in both places. and there are things that I need to send out instead of keeping them in. sometimes I regret that I feel that way. sometimes I regret what I let people know about me. but this blog exists and you, readers, also exist. and I'm going to ask you to please merit the trust I put in you by letting you get to know some of my deepest inner self. I don't always like what I need to say or the fact that I need to say it. I don't always like putting myself in the hands of other people. so please, be kind. be constructive. and don't be hasty.
"... my name is growing all the time, and I've lived a very long, long time; so my name is like a story. Real names tell you the story of things they belong to in my language, in the Old Entish as you might say. It is a lovely language, but it takes a very long time saying anything in it, because we do not say anything in it, unless it is worth taking a long time to say, and to listen to."
"Elves began it, of course, waking trees up and teaching them to speak and learn their tree-talk. They always wished to talk to everything, the old Elves did. But then the Great Darkness came, and they passed away over the Sea, or fled into far valleys and hid themselves, and made songs about days that would never come again. Never again."
this is my name and story and it's taking a long time to say. you don't have to listen to me say it, but I've always wished to talk to everything, so there's nothing else for it. this day will never happen again. or the day after. or the day after. and I don't intend to lose them or I'll lose myself in the process.
8.22.2009
8.19.2009
my day in london part one
notes of the day, written on all sides of an envelope cause I don't have a notebook at the moment (and it's driving me crazy!!!)
king's cross - day fare & tomorrow's pass to zone 6 (airport)
tube piccadilly to holburn
switch to central to st. paul's
visit cathedral, then take millennium bridge to the tate modern
(walk) to take jubilee from london bridge to westminster
visit houses of parliament & westminster abbey,
then walk away from the river to st. james's park and buckingham palace
walk to harrod's
eat somewhere in there and wander
harrods closes at 9pm
evensong at st. paul's? 5 pm
maybe take the boat? to see the tower of london and tower bridge
or else walk to them
hotel breakfast
okay, I'm ready. let's go!
asian hippies - don't see a lot of those.
paris - young fathers
london - modesty
learn regional american accents so I can tell where people are from. are the differences as noticeable to foreigners as british regional accents are to me? the accent quickly becomes commonplace when everyone around you is speaking it. I think I could totally get used to living in London & love it. it's so much easier without the language barrier. I don't know much of anything about british history & culture - how it differs from mine.
maybe me & mom should come here after graduation for 2 weeks. or a week in england & a week in ireland, scotland and/or wales. gah! that would be so awesome.
music: I need to get the cranberries. I really really do. I'll talk to amanda about that when I'm home. (also florence & the machine)
quotes from the tate modern:
"intrigued by african masks, which he wanted to see exhibited the wrong way round, so that the viewer would be struck less by the presence of the mask than the absence of the wearer."
paintings "as if a human being had passed between them, like a snail, leaving a trail of the human presence and memory trace of past events"
"I am interested in art, but I am more interested in truth"
"the music from the balconies nearby was overlaid by the noise of sporadic acts of violence"
I don't belong in my body.
king's cross - day fare & tomorrow's pass to zone 6 (airport)
tube piccadilly to holburn
switch to central to st. paul's
visit cathedral, then take millennium bridge to the tate modern
(walk) to take jubilee from london bridge to westminster
visit houses of parliament & westminster abbey,
then walk away from the river to st. james's park and buckingham palace
walk to harrod's
eat somewhere in there and wander
harrods closes at 9pm
evensong at st. paul's? 5 pm
maybe take the boat? to see the tower of london and tower bridge
or else walk to them
hotel breakfast
okay, I'm ready. let's go!
asian hippies - don't see a lot of those.
paris - young fathers
london - modesty
learn regional american accents so I can tell where people are from. are the differences as noticeable to foreigners as british regional accents are to me? the accent quickly becomes commonplace when everyone around you is speaking it. I think I could totally get used to living in London & love it. it's so much easier without the language barrier. I don't know much of anything about british history & culture - how it differs from mine.
maybe me & mom should come here after graduation for 2 weeks. or a week in england & a week in ireland, scotland and/or wales. gah! that would be so awesome.
music: I need to get the cranberries. I really really do. I'll talk to amanda about that when I'm home. (also florence & the machine)
quotes from the tate modern:
"intrigued by african masks, which he wanted to see exhibited the wrong way round, so that the viewer would be struck less by the presence of the mask than the absence of the wearer."
paintings "as if a human being had passed between them, like a snail, leaving a trail of the human presence and memory trace of past events"
"I am interested in art, but I am more interested in truth"
"the music from the balconies nearby was overlaid by the noise of sporadic acts of violence"
I don't belong in my body.
8.17.2009
à la prochaine, france
last visits are done
to old people
to museums
to grocery stores
packing is (almost) done
suitcase
duffel
backpack
purse
holy crap how am I going to CARRY all of this??
souvenir shopping
check
one big. fat. CHECK.
(for those of you who don't get one ... the postcards were kind of pricey. and if you didn't get a postcard ... I still love you)
I'm getting those flitter flutters I get when I'm about to start a new adventure, even a very short one. like stepping off a plane on the other side of an ocean. or pulling into the train station in a new city. or touching the mediterranean for the first time.
but I get them for old adventures, too. like going to my favorite grocery store. and flying in over washington d.c. to come home and the houses are being swallowed by trees instead of desert and I can pick out monuments below that most people don't even know about. pulling into my driveway. lying down on my old bed in my old room.
old things become new things each time you come back to them, because you're a new person every time.
a year ago, this is what I had to say. a year later, here I am, with cliff dust embedded in my flipflops and lungs. I took my socks and I took my cash. I don't wear socks anymore and the cash is significantly depleted. you still don't need to worry, I'm still fine, but no matter where you're talking to me from, I will answer -- I don't know how not to. I love travelling. I love this adventure. I love touching the borders of people, place and time.
the only thing missing is a hand to hold as I climb mountains to see what's on the other side.
I can make it on my own. I knew going into it that these two months would prove that. it wasn't very fun, making it. I think I could handle alone if I was on the move, filling the people void with the flitter flutter of adventure. instead I've been settling into boring patterns here that don't suit me.
I've learned so much, though. adventures don't teach me lessons because I don't experience them with my mind, I experience them in a very inter-connected, hyper-aware physicality. but these two months, all I did was talk. talk and listen. listen and think. process, ponder and transform. but I'm ready to move again. I'm ready to get up and dance and shout and sing at the top of my lungs. there's a time for thinking and a time for poetry, for discussing and puzzling, and dreaming. but I'm ready to move again. let's go.
the dog days are over.
to old people
to museums
to grocery stores
packing is (almost) done
suitcase
duffel
backpack
purse
holy crap how am I going to CARRY all of this??
souvenir shopping
check
one big. fat. CHECK.
(for those of you who don't get one ... the postcards were kind of pricey. and if you didn't get a postcard ... I still love you)
I'm getting those flitter flutters I get when I'm about to start a new adventure, even a very short one. like stepping off a plane on the other side of an ocean. or pulling into the train station in a new city. or touching the mediterranean for the first time.
but I get them for old adventures, too. like going to my favorite grocery store. and flying in over washington d.c. to come home and the houses are being swallowed by trees instead of desert and I can pick out monuments below that most people don't even know about. pulling into my driveway. lying down on my old bed in my old room.
old things become new things each time you come back to them, because you're a new person every time.
a year ago, this is what I had to say. a year later, here I am, with cliff dust embedded in my flipflops and lungs. I took my socks and I took my cash. I don't wear socks anymore and the cash is significantly depleted. you still don't need to worry, I'm still fine, but no matter where you're talking to me from, I will answer -- I don't know how not to. I love travelling. I love this adventure. I love touching the borders of people, place and time.
the only thing missing is a hand to hold as I climb mountains to see what's on the other side.
I can make it on my own. I knew going into it that these two months would prove that. it wasn't very fun, making it. I think I could handle alone if I was on the move, filling the people void with the flitter flutter of adventure. instead I've been settling into boring patterns here that don't suit me.
I've learned so much, though. adventures don't teach me lessons because I don't experience them with my mind, I experience them in a very inter-connected, hyper-aware physicality. but these two months, all I did was talk. talk and listen. listen and think. process, ponder and transform. but I'm ready to move again. I'm ready to get up and dance and shout and sing at the top of my lungs. there's a time for thinking and a time for poetry, for discussing and puzzling, and dreaming. but I'm ready to move again. let's go.
the dog days are over.
8.14.2009
a couple of mysteries
so.
sooooo.
so he answered me.
kryn finally answered me.
it had been almost 3 months since he'd emailed me
and almost 3 weeks since my last email.
the email.
the one that said - stop ignoring me. I don't care what you have to say anymore. I don't care if it cuts me deep. cause your silence already has. but you have to say something.
well not really, I just said stop ignoring me and left it at that.
so I thought he didn't care anymore and I could handle that.
but I could not handle not knowing anymore.
I wrote an email I thought it would be impossible to ignore.
but he ignored it.
I thought he was an being an absolute coward.
I was a little bit angry and a little bit bitter.
I was learning to move on.
it had been months since I opened my inbox with anticipation.
and out of the blue, I went into work and opened my email
and there it was.
an explanation.
you may think there could have been no excuse.
me too. I could not afford to keep hoping.
you can only give someone so many chances before you're forced to face reality.
and I had faced it. reality. in. my. face.
and I had learned I could handle it. I had to handle it.
what else can you do?
but there it sat. an explanation.
a beautifully written, thought out explanation.
and I couldn't help it.
I forgave him.
I forgave him at the beginning right after it said
I can think about him however I wish.
cause he knows I have reason to push delete and
go on my bitter, angry way.
he also knows I wouldn't.
so much of this is a guessing game where we think we know what the other person would do, how they would react, when we know that we really could have no idea.
we're a couple of mysteries, we are.
he said
you are a flash of real color in a sea of gray
and really, after everything I've put my heart through,
we could never speak again, and that would be enough.
he said
I see a seed, you see a flower
and really, he was 100% right about that.
was, because for awhile now I have seen nothing at all.
he is perceptive.
he knew what my words meant and the spaces between them.
he knows what I've been putting myself through
(because really, we all know I've been doing this to myself)
and he knows he doesn't have the right to treat this as a low-key friendship if I can't.
a couple of months ago, I couldn't have.
a couple of months ago, I was a little bit lost
in the depths of my own heart.
but now is now and not then
and now I can.
now I know how he feels (relatively) (finally)
now I don't feel
which means the simple fact that he cares about me is enough.
he does not want to hurt me.
excellent. so let's stop being hurt.
things are both confused and clarified
but it's much better than it was.
I like it this way.
no expectations
sooooo.
so he answered me.
kryn finally answered me.
it had been almost 3 months since he'd emailed me
and almost 3 weeks since my last email.
the email.
the one that said - stop ignoring me. I don't care what you have to say anymore. I don't care if it cuts me deep. cause your silence already has. but you have to say something.
well not really, I just said stop ignoring me and left it at that.
so I thought he didn't care anymore and I could handle that.
but I could not handle not knowing anymore.
I wrote an email I thought it would be impossible to ignore.
but he ignored it.
I thought he was an being an absolute coward.
I was a little bit angry and a little bit bitter.
I was learning to move on.
it had been months since I opened my inbox with anticipation.
and out of the blue, I went into work and opened my email
and there it was.
an explanation.
you may think there could have been no excuse.
me too. I could not afford to keep hoping.
you can only give someone so many chances before you're forced to face reality.
and I had faced it. reality. in. my. face.
and I had learned I could handle it. I had to handle it.
what else can you do?
but there it sat. an explanation.
a beautifully written, thought out explanation.
and I couldn't help it.
I forgave him.
I forgave him at the beginning right after it said
I can think about him however I wish.
cause he knows I have reason to push delete and
go on my bitter, angry way.
he also knows I wouldn't.
so much of this is a guessing game where we think we know what the other person would do, how they would react, when we know that we really could have no idea.
we're a couple of mysteries, we are.
he said
you are a flash of real color in a sea of gray
and really, after everything I've put my heart through,
we could never speak again, and that would be enough.
he said
I see a seed, you see a flower
and really, he was 100% right about that.
was, because for awhile now I have seen nothing at all.
he is perceptive.
he knew what my words meant and the spaces between them.
he knows what I've been putting myself through
(because really, we all know I've been doing this to myself)
and he knows he doesn't have the right to treat this as a low-key friendship if I can't.
a couple of months ago, I couldn't have.
a couple of months ago, I was a little bit lost
in the depths of my own heart.
but now is now and not then
and now I can.
now I know how he feels (relatively) (finally)
now I don't feel
which means the simple fact that he cares about me is enough.
he does not want to hurt me.
excellent. so let's stop being hurt.
things are both confused and clarified
but it's much better than it was.
I like it this way.
no expectations
8.10.2009
which?
mathias came to visit me in toulouse this weekend and we had a good time. we went to albi on saturday and saw (supposedly) the largest brick building in the world, the cathedral there, that looks rather formidable on the outside, not very pretty I would say, but the second you get through the door, you're just ... breath-taken. it was beautiful, all the walls and ceiling painted, humongous, still formidable, but beautiful too.
we also went to the toulouse-lautrec art museum (he was from albi) which was really awesome, though slightly annoying, as the permanent collection was quite small and the "temporary exhibition" was huge and actually comprised of works all owned by the museum, they were just being stingy. I actually forgot at first that it was the temporary exhibit and started taking a couple pictures (sans flash, of course) and the guard guy freaked out on me ("totalement interdit!!") and I was kind of, or a lot, embarressed, but oh well, such is life. we get over it.
I only have one more week of work left, and as I've discovered, weeks fly by. months are slow, but weeks fly. which means I'll be home before I know it! which makes me so happy. I can't wait to see my family and océane. it's so strange how provo kind of feels like home, but mostly it's strange that I feel that way when I'll be leaving it soon. I don't know why these things continue to surprise me, since it happens to me all the time. I should be used to it by now. school's going to be fun but oh so busy and I'm determined to do well, to enjoy life, to accomplish things and make the most of my time.
it's so hard to believe that this is my last year of school. I don't know if I'm ready, but I guess I'll have to be. after I graduate, carolyn's wedding is in may, and then family vacation in june in vermont, which I wouldn't miss for the world, and then ... I don't know. I may go to cameroon with océane to work in a leper colony for 2 months. that depends on how much money I can save up this year. then I may go on a mission. or I may go to grad school. but which one? and how will I pay for it? and how will I manage living life on my own, as an adult?? what a strange thought. but the day is fast coming where I'll actually have to live in that label permanently.
we also went to the toulouse-lautrec art museum (he was from albi) which was really awesome, though slightly annoying, as the permanent collection was quite small and the "temporary exhibition" was huge and actually comprised of works all owned by the museum, they were just being stingy. I actually forgot at first that it was the temporary exhibit and started taking a couple pictures (sans flash, of course) and the guard guy freaked out on me ("totalement interdit!!") and I was kind of, or a lot, embarressed, but oh well, such is life. we get over it.
I only have one more week of work left, and as I've discovered, weeks fly by. months are slow, but weeks fly. which means I'll be home before I know it! which makes me so happy. I can't wait to see my family and océane. it's so strange how provo kind of feels like home, but mostly it's strange that I feel that way when I'll be leaving it soon. I don't know why these things continue to surprise me, since it happens to me all the time. I should be used to it by now. school's going to be fun but oh so busy and I'm determined to do well, to enjoy life, to accomplish things and make the most of my time.
it's so hard to believe that this is my last year of school. I don't know if I'm ready, but I guess I'll have to be. after I graduate, carolyn's wedding is in may, and then family vacation in june in vermont, which I wouldn't miss for the world, and then ... I don't know. I may go to cameroon with océane to work in a leper colony for 2 months. that depends on how much money I can save up this year. then I may go on a mission. or I may go to grad school. but which one? and how will I pay for it? and how will I manage living life on my own, as an adult?? what a strange thought. but the day is fast coming where I'll actually have to live in that label permanently.
8.07.2009
a little brother of old people
so I was walking a blind lady down the street the other day to go to the dentist to get her dentures fixed (you know, just part of the job) when I saw this guy just standing there peeing on the street (not part of the job). I'd heard from other girls during study abroad in paris that they'd seen such things happen, but I hadn't ever before and it was ... really weird. I didn't see anything, but I was still thinking to myself - really? really?? france is a civilized place. whatever civilized actually means. but probably the bare minimum definition of civilized in my book is people not peeing on the street.
then this morning I visited a little old blind, diabetic, returning breast cancer lady. she was wearing nothing but a teeshirt and sweater. at first I forgot she was blind and thought she didn't care that she was flashing her naked old lady body everywhere, but then I remembered that she probably didn't realize. when the ménagère helped her walk to the bathroom, she looked like a head on stick legs. when she was getting upset about not having the right medications and the pharmacies closing and other worries, her voice got more and more raspy and shrill and listening to her and looking at her glazed blue eyes, I thought - I am visiting gollum. FOR REAL.
there's an old man I visit who's quite the character. half the time I don't really catch what he's saying, so I usually miss the joke and just laugh along with him. he laughs heartily and loud, the kind of laugh where you see his toothless open mouth and wonder when he's going to breathe again. I think he can tell when I'm just laughing along with him and when he actually makes me laugh, and it makes me sad, cause I know he's trying to make me sincerely laugh. he said that making someone laugh brings joy to their heart and you've made a difference in their life. he also makes dirty jokes about women, which pisses me off, but he's an old man, so I sort of forgive him. he tells me I am ravishingly beautiful. I tell him thank you. and then I leave. after he's forced me to eat 3 or 4 cakes. they all love to spoil me. it is no coincidence that gâter (to spoil someone) sounds an awful lot like gâteau (cake).
and that's just 3 of the 30+ people I visit. and they all want me to send them postcards when I get home. hard as these 2 months have been, they've certainly given me a lot of stories. so many stories.
then this morning I visited a little old blind, diabetic, returning breast cancer lady. she was wearing nothing but a teeshirt and sweater. at first I forgot she was blind and thought she didn't care that she was flashing her naked old lady body everywhere, but then I remembered that she probably didn't realize. when the ménagère helped her walk to the bathroom, she looked like a head on stick legs. when she was getting upset about not having the right medications and the pharmacies closing and other worries, her voice got more and more raspy and shrill and listening to her and looking at her glazed blue eyes, I thought - I am visiting gollum. FOR REAL.
there's an old man I visit who's quite the character. half the time I don't really catch what he's saying, so I usually miss the joke and just laugh along with him. he laughs heartily and loud, the kind of laugh where you see his toothless open mouth and wonder when he's going to breathe again. I think he can tell when I'm just laughing along with him and when he actually makes me laugh, and it makes me sad, cause I know he's trying to make me sincerely laugh. he said that making someone laugh brings joy to their heart and you've made a difference in their life. he also makes dirty jokes about women, which pisses me off, but he's an old man, so I sort of forgive him. he tells me I am ravishingly beautiful. I tell him thank you. and then I leave. after he's forced me to eat 3 or 4 cakes. they all love to spoil me. it is no coincidence that gâter (to spoil someone) sounds an awful lot like gâteau (cake).
and that's just 3 of the 30+ people I visit. and they all want me to send them postcards when I get home. hard as these 2 months have been, they've certainly given me a lot of stories. so many stories.
8.04.2009
the humans are dead
I was in marseille this weekend and had so much fun! but I'll post about it probably after I've written in my journal ... maybe tomorrow ...
in the meantime, seriously media-delayed as I am, I just watched flight of the conchords for the first time, and here's a couple of my favorites, the ones that made me laugh so hard I cried in a public place in france, which got me some interesting looks, but I was laughing so hard I didn't care. have fun. family disclaimer (hi family!) cussing (bye family!)
and florence and the machine's album finally came out. even though this song and video were already released. I bought just this one until I get home and get amanda's copy. cause hey, then I can actually look at the cover. sweet.
Florence_And_The_Machine_-_Dog_Days_Are_Over
envoyé par hysteric-heart. - Regardez plus de clips, en HD !
yeah. she's amazing. and here are some lyrics that seem strangely applicable. it's hard to find lyrics that aren't applicable these days. but hey, I'm the last person in the world you have to convince that expression is therapeutic. believe me. I know. and I look for it everywhere.
in the meantime, seriously media-delayed as I am, I just watched flight of the conchords for the first time, and here's a couple of my favorites, the ones that made me laugh so hard I cried in a public place in france, which got me some interesting looks, but I was laughing so hard I didn't care. have fun. family disclaimer (hi family!) cussing (bye family!)
and florence and the machine's album finally came out. even though this song and video were already released. I bought just this one until I get home and get amanda's copy. cause hey, then I can actually look at the cover. sweet.
Florence_And_The_Machine_-_Dog_Days_Are_Over
envoyé par hysteric-heart. - Regardez plus de clips, en HD !
yeah. she's amazing. and here are some lyrics that seem strangely applicable. it's hard to find lyrics that aren't applicable these days. but hey, I'm the last person in the world you have to convince that expression is therapeutic. believe me. I know. and I look for it everywhere.
rabbit heart (raise it up)
the looking glass so shiny and new
how quickly the glamour fades
I start spinning slipping out of time
was that the wrong pill to take
you made a deal and now it seems you have to offer up
but will it ever be enough
it's not enough
here I am a rabbit hearted girl
frozen in the headlights
it seems I've made the final sacrifice
we raise it up this offering
we raise it up
this is a gift it comes with a price
who is the lamb and who is the knife
midas is king and he holds me so tight
and turns me to gold in the sunlight
I look around but I can't find you
if only I could see your face
instead of rushing towards the skyline
I wish that I could just be brave
I must become a lion hearted girl
ready for a fight
before I make the final sacrifice
we raise it up this offering
we raise it up
this is a gift it comes with a price
who is the lamb and who is the knife
midas is king and he holds me so tight
and turns me to gold in the sunlight
raise it up raise it up
and in the spring I shed my skin
and it blows away with the changing wind
the waters turn from blue to red
as towards the sky I offer it
this is a gift it comes with a price
who is the lamb and who is the knife
midas is king and he holds me so tight
and turns me to gold in the sunlight
this is a gift
how quickly the glamour fades
I start spinning slipping out of time
was that the wrong pill to take
you made a deal and now it seems you have to offer up
but will it ever be enough
it's not enough
here I am a rabbit hearted girl
frozen in the headlights
it seems I've made the final sacrifice
we raise it up this offering
we raise it up
this is a gift it comes with a price
who is the lamb and who is the knife
midas is king and he holds me so tight
and turns me to gold in the sunlight
I look around but I can't find you
if only I could see your face
instead of rushing towards the skyline
I wish that I could just be brave
I must become a lion hearted girl
ready for a fight
before I make the final sacrifice
we raise it up this offering
we raise it up
this is a gift it comes with a price
who is the lamb and who is the knife
midas is king and he holds me so tight
and turns me to gold in the sunlight
raise it up raise it up
and in the spring I shed my skin
and it blows away with the changing wind
the waters turn from blue to red
as towards the sky I offer it
this is a gift it comes with a price
who is the lamb and who is the knife
midas is king and he holds me so tight
and turns me to gold in the sunlight
this is a gift
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