Alright, maybe not everything.
I'm overwhelmingly melancholic for something I can't have right now, and I'm scared I won't produce anything interesting or beautiful this quarter in all three of my studio classes, and on top of that, afraid I will be trudging through readings in Journalism.
I don't know what's going on, but I haven't felt this deeply upset in a long time and it's scaring me.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
:)
Everything is looking up now.
Thankyou family and friends for calling me, even if we didn't get the chance to speak, it meant a lot to me to have that support without hesitation.
Fall quarter starts tomorrow at 8:30! I haven't been awake that early in months. Other than the early mornings I'm looking forward to classes again.
Just wanted to say that life is better; there isn't anything in particular I have to say though.
Thankyou family and friends for calling me, even if we didn't get the chance to speak, it meant a lot to me to have that support without hesitation.
Fall quarter starts tomorrow at 8:30! I haven't been awake that early in months. Other than the early mornings I'm looking forward to classes again.
Just wanted to say that life is better; there isn't anything in particular I have to say though.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
last night
So I'm beginning to feel like the world is going a little hay-wire. I've heard that term used before and I feel that, in the context of current events, it is the appropriate use of it.
Yesterday a group of friends were all going to meet at a place downtown for live music. Four bands were playing as a part of the Whaam festival, something something all-ages music, and it was an exciting prospect.
Before leaving, one of the girls at the house we were to depart from, began crying. I'm not going into that, because it's too personal and I hardly even know the story. But to be blunt, some guys are just not worth it.
We got there late, and two of my friends who planned to meet us there never showed. Glenn, oneo f the two, tried calling me and letting me know what was going on, but I couldn't understand his message, and later when he called I still couldn't understand because it was loud everywhere.
He finally sent me a text message, despite the many conversations we've had about his distate for texting, which said "Maia got hit by a car and her leg is broken."
When we got home, I went on the internet to find a note on facebook explaining a little further what happened. Maia, an awesome friend of mine, was riding her bike with her boyfriend Glenn and as she rode to cross a street an SUV turned straight into her. I called Glenn after seeing the note. He told me, after the car hit her, he was expecting her to have died. Fortunately they were near the firestation or police station, I'm not sure which, but the full ambulance service was there for her immediately. They took them to the local E.R. and last night flew her to Seattle for surgery because her leg was broken so badly and the arterial damage was such it was necessary. Glenn was reassured though that her leg will be able to heal eventually, that she's not losing the limb.
I'm slowly realizing all of the implications this injury will have in Maia's life.
I don't know what to say.
Life is weird in Bellingham right now.
Yesterday a group of friends were all going to meet at a place downtown for live music. Four bands were playing as a part of the Whaam festival, something something all-ages music, and it was an exciting prospect.
Before leaving, one of the girls at the house we were to depart from, began crying. I'm not going into that, because it's too personal and I hardly even know the story. But to be blunt, some guys are just not worth it.
We got there late, and two of my friends who planned to meet us there never showed. Glenn, oneo f the two, tried calling me and letting me know what was going on, but I couldn't understand his message, and later when he called I still couldn't understand because it was loud everywhere.
He finally sent me a text message, despite the many conversations we've had about his distate for texting, which said "Maia got hit by a car and her leg is broken."
When we got home, I went on the internet to find a note on facebook explaining a little further what happened. Maia, an awesome friend of mine, was riding her bike with her boyfriend Glenn and as she rode to cross a street an SUV turned straight into her. I called Glenn after seeing the note. He told me, after the car hit her, he was expecting her to have died. Fortunately they were near the firestation or police station, I'm not sure which, but the full ambulance service was there for her immediately. They took them to the local E.R. and last night flew her to Seattle for surgery because her leg was broken so badly and the arterial damage was such it was necessary. Glenn was reassured though that her leg will be able to heal eventually, that she's not losing the limb.
I'm slowly realizing all of the implications this injury will have in Maia's life.
I don't know what to say.
Life is weird in Bellingham right now.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Craig
The other night I went into a local bar to watch a band my friends are in. Stepping in, one of the bartenders came over to check our i.d. I had to use my passport, because my driver's permit is expired and no longer valid. He read through it, saying that his birthday is September 6 and commenting on our both being Virgos, then he pointed out that it said Virginia-he said he is moving there soon to rent a place. He introduced himself as Kyle and shook my hand.
We walked in and I looked over at him a few times after we had sat down and I realized he looked extremely similar to a guy I knew that used to come into the clinic where I worked.
About a week earlier I read in the paper that this guy had passed away mid-August. He used to come into the clinic often for new injuries and for an ongoing monitoring of his body's deterioration from alcoholism. The first day he came in, he introduced himself and was friendly to the point of flirtation. I was embarrassed by that, and to make me more nervous, right after his appointment was finished, the doctor came out with him and introduced us again, saying that he was an artist and that I am an artist so we should talk. From that point on every time he came into the clinic we would discuss art, he would ask about what art projects I had in school. At this clinic it wasn't rare for people to have to wait an hour or more for their appointment, waiting to be seen, so we had a lot of time to talk some days. He said he studied art at Western, maybe 10 years ago. He was in his 30s. And he would tell me about how he had been painting all morning. He explained himself as a loner who spent most of his time with his dog, that he clearly absolutely loved, and painting in his room. But he was a kind-hearted and friendly guy so I can't imagine he actually was a loner.
A few times I ran into him outside the clinic and chatted with him on the bus or in the grocery store. I was always excited to see him because every time he seemed genuinely happy to see me too and he always had some crazy story to share, usually of how he got injured that week.
One of the days he came in to the clinic he had his art portfolio with him, so he showed it to me. His work was clearly emotional, each piece done with what felt like a heavy stroke. Most of his paintings were also dark. I remember one that was almost futuristic with 3d appearing shiny balls in the foreground, placed equally apart all across the canvas, and a background of a grid behind them. They all had a lot of depth and layer upon layer of marks.
Another day he came in excited, telling everyone in the clinic that he was putting on an art show at a local night club. He was disappointed to find out I couldn't go, and I was probably even more so. He said he would try getting me in to see it one time, but that didn't work out. Instead, a couple weeks after he had mentioned the show, I came in to work and saw that he had been in earlier in the day. There was a package of photographs sitting on my desk that said "for Carissa" on the top. They were photos of each piece of artwork that he had on show.
I wanted to keep them, but I thought he might need them later on, especially because he told us he had sold many of them. I left the package on the desk and didn't return to work until my next scheduled day the next week. The package was gone, so I'm assuming it got back to him. I'm not sure though, and I regret not having taken them with me as I had wanted to.
Anyway, when I went to speak with the guy who looked like him, I said "Did you know a guy by the name of Craig?" and his face went flat and he replied "He was my twin brother." For some reason, even though Craig had mentioned it, and it was in the article on his death, I hadn't thought about the fact that he had a twin brother and felt horrible. I briefly began to explain to this guy why and how I knew his brother, trying to justify my reason for asking him. He looked like he could burst into tears and I immediately asked if I could give him a hug. We hugged for a moment, and I can honestly say I could feel his pain. After that I began weeping, unable to control the emotions like he must be learning to be able to do. I went outside and cried, and a friend of mine came out to talk with me. Then I saw that the guy came out to calm down, over to the side.
The reality of Craig's death didn't hit me until that night. The reminder that there was this great, loving guy that I knew made me so sad. And on top of that, seeing that he has a twin brother who's left behind, makes it that much worse. I just hope that his twin's plan to move to Virginia helps him in the grieving process. I can't imagine how difficult it would be to still live in Bellingham, where he must come across mutual friends constantly.
I had no idea it would be this hard to cope with a friend's death. I did and do consider Craig a friend even though I was just a receptionist at the clinic where he came. We had art that allowed us to connect and become friends. I'm sad that he is gone, and I'm sad for all of the people who are left here to miss him.
We walked in and I looked over at him a few times after we had sat down and I realized he looked extremely similar to a guy I knew that used to come into the clinic where I worked.
About a week earlier I read in the paper that this guy had passed away mid-August. He used to come into the clinic often for new injuries and for an ongoing monitoring of his body's deterioration from alcoholism. The first day he came in, he introduced himself and was friendly to the point of flirtation. I was embarrassed by that, and to make me more nervous, right after his appointment was finished, the doctor came out with him and introduced us again, saying that he was an artist and that I am an artist so we should talk. From that point on every time he came into the clinic we would discuss art, he would ask about what art projects I had in school. At this clinic it wasn't rare for people to have to wait an hour or more for their appointment, waiting to be seen, so we had a lot of time to talk some days. He said he studied art at Western, maybe 10 years ago. He was in his 30s. And he would tell me about how he had been painting all morning. He explained himself as a loner who spent most of his time with his dog, that he clearly absolutely loved, and painting in his room. But he was a kind-hearted and friendly guy so I can't imagine he actually was a loner.
A few times I ran into him outside the clinic and chatted with him on the bus or in the grocery store. I was always excited to see him because every time he seemed genuinely happy to see me too and he always had some crazy story to share, usually of how he got injured that week.
One of the days he came in to the clinic he had his art portfolio with him, so he showed it to me. His work was clearly emotional, each piece done with what felt like a heavy stroke. Most of his paintings were also dark. I remember one that was almost futuristic with 3d appearing shiny balls in the foreground, placed equally apart all across the canvas, and a background of a grid behind them. They all had a lot of depth and layer upon layer of marks.
Another day he came in excited, telling everyone in the clinic that he was putting on an art show at a local night club. He was disappointed to find out I couldn't go, and I was probably even more so. He said he would try getting me in to see it one time, but that didn't work out. Instead, a couple weeks after he had mentioned the show, I came in to work and saw that he had been in earlier in the day. There was a package of photographs sitting on my desk that said "for Carissa" on the top. They were photos of each piece of artwork that he had on show.
I wanted to keep them, but I thought he might need them later on, especially because he told us he had sold many of them. I left the package on the desk and didn't return to work until my next scheduled day the next week. The package was gone, so I'm assuming it got back to him. I'm not sure though, and I regret not having taken them with me as I had wanted to.
Anyway, when I went to speak with the guy who looked like him, I said "Did you know a guy by the name of Craig?" and his face went flat and he replied "He was my twin brother." For some reason, even though Craig had mentioned it, and it was in the article on his death, I hadn't thought about the fact that he had a twin brother and felt horrible. I briefly began to explain to this guy why and how I knew his brother, trying to justify my reason for asking him. He looked like he could burst into tears and I immediately asked if I could give him a hug. We hugged for a moment, and I can honestly say I could feel his pain. After that I began weeping, unable to control the emotions like he must be learning to be able to do. I went outside and cried, and a friend of mine came out to talk with me. Then I saw that the guy came out to calm down, over to the side.
The reality of Craig's death didn't hit me until that night. The reminder that there was this great, loving guy that I knew made me so sad. And on top of that, seeing that he has a twin brother who's left behind, makes it that much worse. I just hope that his twin's plan to move to Virginia helps him in the grieving process. I can't imagine how difficult it would be to still live in Bellingham, where he must come across mutual friends constantly.
I had no idea it would be this hard to cope with a friend's death. I did and do consider Craig a friend even though I was just a receptionist at the clinic where he came. We had art that allowed us to connect and become friends. I'm sad that he is gone, and I'm sad for all of the people who are left here to miss him.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Vegetarianism
I realized last night in talking with a friend who is vegetarian, that I'm essentially already the same.
I hadn't really thought about it, but I don't eat beef or pork ever (if I have the choice), chicken very rarely, and I don't like most seafoods.
I also am lactose intolerant so I don't drink milk or eat much cheese. I do eat yogurt though, a lot, so I guess I can't call myself vegan.
The thing about red meats is that when I eat them I get a sneaking feeling they aren't being fully digested by my body and little pieces of meat are sticking to my intestines, resting there forever and making me die a quicker death.
Also, after reading Fast Food Nation, supporting the meat industry in America is very difficult. Of course they pointed out the worst possible scenarios in factories. But just the thought of any of it as truth is sickening.
Another reason for not eating meat, at least in America, is the feeding situation. They're generally, from what I've heard, not feeding the cattle what they're meant to be eating naturally, corn mostly; so we end up with the junk they're feeding them by eating what's left in their muscles.
I've been thinking about these reasons and there's more, but that's sufficient to mention. I absolutely am not against other people eating meat. I do think animals are around, partly, for humans to be consuming. Why else would the protein they provide keep us alive and healthy?
But I'm going to go veg for a while.
Not sure why I'm posting this as a note.
I have had a lot of people ask me on multiple occasions whether or not I am vegetarian, so maybe this will be a good way to set things straight. I am, and there's no place better than Bellingham for it.
Random thought. Is there any country whose population is primarily vegetarian?
I hadn't really thought about it, but I don't eat beef or pork ever (if I have the choice), chicken very rarely, and I don't like most seafoods.
I also am lactose intolerant so I don't drink milk or eat much cheese. I do eat yogurt though, a lot, so I guess I can't call myself vegan.
The thing about red meats is that when I eat them I get a sneaking feeling they aren't being fully digested by my body and little pieces of meat are sticking to my intestines, resting there forever and making me die a quicker death.
Also, after reading Fast Food Nation, supporting the meat industry in America is very difficult. Of course they pointed out the worst possible scenarios in factories. But just the thought of any of it as truth is sickening.
Another reason for not eating meat, at least in America, is the feeding situation. They're generally, from what I've heard, not feeding the cattle what they're meant to be eating naturally, corn mostly; so we end up with the junk they're feeding them by eating what's left in their muscles.
I've been thinking about these reasons and there's more, but that's sufficient to mention. I absolutely am not against other people eating meat. I do think animals are around, partly, for humans to be consuming. Why else would the protein they provide keep us alive and healthy?
But I'm going to go veg for a while.
Not sure why I'm posting this as a note.
I have had a lot of people ask me on multiple occasions whether or not I am vegetarian, so maybe this will be a good way to set things straight. I am, and there's no place better than Bellingham for it.
Random thought. Is there any country whose population is primarily vegetarian?
Friday, September 5, 2008
I did dream a dream, but not a particularly "amazing" one.
I woke up, annoyed about being awake, and remembering maybe what was the most recent dream I had.
I dreamt I was walking through a grocery store that was more of a town and a very large, muscular man came towards me, then turned his back at me. I saw there was a baby dangling on his back like a monkey with his arms sprawled on either side of his father's neck. His dad was holding him up by the hands.
Showing me his baby, I noticed there was a thread wrapped around one of his fingers. Apparently this big burly man was worried whatever was on his son's finger could be hurting him. What's strange is he couldn't see his son at all, so he just knew there was something on his finger intuitively (or with some other magical power.)
I began to unravel the thread from off of his hand. His fingers were so tiny and soft. One piece of the thread was tied tightly around the tip of his finger, so I took the scissors out of my pocket (?) and began to attempt cutting it off. I informed the father this is what I was doing, since he seemed like a sensitive man who might want this information. I told him I would be as careful as can be. But, I accidentally cut the baby's finger at the top, just as I got the thread off. I told him I accidentally nicked his son's finger, and he said calmly, "Oh, I'm sure it's fine, as long as it didn't break the skin."
But it had. In reply I muttered a sort of nondescript word for fear of telling him I had made his dear son bleed.
He walked away with a bit of a hop in his step, happy that his son's problem had been resolved.
Things happened,
then I saw them from a distance in the same store/town and there were profuse amounts of blood flowing from his son's finger. There was far too much blood for the tiny cut I made on his finger, but it still felt like I was to blame.
My mind wandered on to something else at this point and didn't acknowledge any feelings of guilt, or interact with the two any further. I kind of wish it had. It feels so unresolved...
I also dreamt my friend Katie quit her job at Mediterranean Specialties, then was walking around, having to avoid her previous bosses. She was literally dodging around between aisles to avoid their line of sight. That was entertaining.
I dreamt I was walking through a grocery store that was more of a town and a very large, muscular man came towards me, then turned his back at me. I saw there was a baby dangling on his back like a monkey with his arms sprawled on either side of his father's neck. His dad was holding him up by the hands.
Showing me his baby, I noticed there was a thread wrapped around one of his fingers. Apparently this big burly man was worried whatever was on his son's finger could be hurting him. What's strange is he couldn't see his son at all, so he just knew there was something on his finger intuitively (or with some other magical power.)
I began to unravel the thread from off of his hand. His fingers were so tiny and soft. One piece of the thread was tied tightly around the tip of his finger, so I took the scissors out of my pocket (?) and began to attempt cutting it off. I informed the father this is what I was doing, since he seemed like a sensitive man who might want this information. I told him I would be as careful as can be. But, I accidentally cut the baby's finger at the top, just as I got the thread off. I told him I accidentally nicked his son's finger, and he said calmly, "Oh, I'm sure it's fine, as long as it didn't break the skin."
But it had. In reply I muttered a sort of nondescript word for fear of telling him I had made his dear son bleed.
He walked away with a bit of a hop in his step, happy that his son's problem had been resolved.
Things happened,
then I saw them from a distance in the same store/town and there were profuse amounts of blood flowing from his son's finger. There was far too much blood for the tiny cut I made on his finger, but it still felt like I was to blame.
My mind wandered on to something else at this point and didn't acknowledge any feelings of guilt, or interact with the two any further. I kind of wish it had. It feels so unresolved...
I also dreamt my friend Katie quit her job at Mediterranean Specialties, then was walking around, having to avoid her previous bosses. She was literally dodging around between aisles to avoid their line of sight. That was entertaining.
I should be dreaming amazing dreams right now.
It's approaching 3 in the a.m. and I hardly had any caffeine today.
I didn't have any sort of energy drink with caffeine equivalents. I didn't even have all that much food today.
But I'm awake.
I just completed a blog entry on myspace about being awake in the middle of the night and how it can be very pleasant. How it allows you the time and space to think with interruptions from, well, anything.
Now I'm going to post about how tomorrow I'm going on a little trip with some friends.
We're going off into the woods to a girl's cabin. They normally rent it out to a friend, but she gave notice and we'll be using it for two days!
I get the feeling it's set in a tiny tiny town, where the majority of what is around is nature, so I'm calling it the woods. It should be a good time. We'll play cards, cook, and probably get into some sort of shenanigans.
Oh, and today I took down all the art on the walls and replaced it with newer art. I hadn't thought about just how sick of the pieces I took down I was until I took them down. It felt extremely very gratifying. I wasn't planning on doing it either. I was just wandering around the apartment cleaning as I stepped into a mess. I went to pick up Taylor's prints he brought over yesterday and I thought it would be nice to put them on the wall. So I did. Then I saw it set off the whole balance of the room! So I followed up putting one of his prints, to taking down a painting, replacing it with another of his prints. The themed ones needed to be together. Then, I had to move the other art because they were too close on the wall. From there it progressed into indiscriminatingly tearing everything off the walls to replace it all.
Katie says it looks calmer. I think that's a good thing.
Alright, thinking is becoming more difficult now.
Goodnight.
I didn't have any sort of energy drink with caffeine equivalents. I didn't even have all that much food today.
But I'm awake.
I just completed a blog entry on myspace about being awake in the middle of the night and how it can be very pleasant. How it allows you the time and space to think with interruptions from, well, anything.
Now I'm going to post about how tomorrow I'm going on a little trip with some friends.
We're going off into the woods to a girl's cabin. They normally rent it out to a friend, but she gave notice and we'll be using it for two days!
I get the feeling it's set in a tiny tiny town, where the majority of what is around is nature, so I'm calling it the woods. It should be a good time. We'll play cards, cook, and probably get into some sort of shenanigans.
Oh, and today I took down all the art on the walls and replaced it with newer art. I hadn't thought about just how sick of the pieces I took down I was until I took them down. It felt extremely very gratifying. I wasn't planning on doing it either. I was just wandering around the apartment cleaning as I stepped into a mess. I went to pick up Taylor's prints he brought over yesterday and I thought it would be nice to put them on the wall. So I did. Then I saw it set off the whole balance of the room! So I followed up putting one of his prints, to taking down a painting, replacing it with another of his prints. The themed ones needed to be together. Then, I had to move the other art because they were too close on the wall. From there it progressed into indiscriminatingly tearing everything off the walls to replace it all.
Katie says it looks calmer. I think that's a good thing.
Alright, thinking is becoming more difficult now.
Goodnight.
Monday, September 1, 2008
another day
Today I returned to Bellingham. Shaun and Leila gave me a ride, once again. They're really generous...I've got a lot to give back in the world.
Shaun hooked up my new internets, and then we dropped off a load of things I needed to get rid of at Value Village. I've been waiting to get rid of those things for something like two years, but the value village is so far away so it was never practical to take them on an hour's commute, waiting for bus transfers, and relatively long bus rides, to get there.
After that we went to Lafeen's, a sweet little donut shop that looks like it's straight out of the 80s...not that I really now, being that I was 3 when the 90s arrived.
The clerk was an excited, social guy, probably around 17 years old. His first words were "Awesome glasses!" I feel a little ashamed when people comment on them, since they aren't prescription. I recognize I'm posing as a person with poor eyesight, but all for vanity and fun. I still question my own feelings about it.
We ate donuts, then they headed back to Seattle and I called Katie, seeing she had called me a while earlier.
Her and I walked to Fairhaven, taking advantage of the sunshine and blue skies that are too rare here to neglect. I bought an avacado at Haggen, since we felt there needed to be some reason for being there, then we walked back to our side of town. I told her all about Bumbershoot, and tried demonstrating the oddly deliberate moves of the smirky man.
When our stomachs began to growl, we made some burritos with sauteed green peppers and onion with grilled chicken and refried black beans. It was delish. We watched Robin Hood while eating until we realized it wasn't going fast enough for our taste...so we watched Grey's Anatomy instead.
Now I've come home and have a strange spurt of energy but wish I were tired. I really don't want to be awake until 3 am a third night in a row. That's just establishing a routine. It's okay to stay up that long with someone, chatting, but alone it's just plain boring, boring, boring...
So is this post.
Tomorrow, if I'm not too sleepy from being awake all night, I'll go job hunting some more and maybe to the gym. It's irresistible-I definitely feel a pull to exersize for the rush of endorphins.
Shaun hooked up my new internets, and then we dropped off a load of things I needed to get rid of at Value Village. I've been waiting to get rid of those things for something like two years, but the value village is so far away so it was never practical to take them on an hour's commute, waiting for bus transfers, and relatively long bus rides, to get there.
After that we went to Lafeen's, a sweet little donut shop that looks like it's straight out of the 80s...not that I really now, being that I was 3 when the 90s arrived.
The clerk was an excited, social guy, probably around 17 years old. His first words were "Awesome glasses!" I feel a little ashamed when people comment on them, since they aren't prescription. I recognize I'm posing as a person with poor eyesight, but all for vanity and fun. I still question my own feelings about it.
We ate donuts, then they headed back to Seattle and I called Katie, seeing she had called me a while earlier.
Her and I walked to Fairhaven, taking advantage of the sunshine and blue skies that are too rare here to neglect. I bought an avacado at Haggen, since we felt there needed to be some reason for being there, then we walked back to our side of town. I told her all about Bumbershoot, and tried demonstrating the oddly deliberate moves of the smirky man.
When our stomachs began to growl, we made some burritos with sauteed green peppers and onion with grilled chicken and refried black beans. It was delish. We watched Robin Hood while eating until we realized it wasn't going fast enough for our taste...so we watched Grey's Anatomy instead.
Now I've come home and have a strange spurt of energy but wish I were tired. I really don't want to be awake until 3 am a third night in a row. That's just establishing a routine. It's okay to stay up that long with someone, chatting, but alone it's just plain boring, boring, boring...
So is this post.
Tomorrow, if I'm not too sleepy from being awake all night, I'll go job hunting some more and maybe to the gym. It's irresistible-I definitely feel a pull to exersize for the rush of endorphins.
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