poetry night

Tonight I went to poetry night. I haven't been in something like eight months and I regret not having gone all that time. It's such a beautiful thing.

Listening to some of the poems felt like listening to prayer.
This poem was read and I liked it so hopefully you do too:

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

it's pouring outside.

Bellingham, I represented you so well while in California. I boasted to everyone about how you've been shining the sun brightly on us all, you've kept us warm and happy. I even told California that her weather was shitty compared to yours.

...but then I come back and all you give is rain. Hard, constant rain. You betrayed me Bellingham with your flip-flopping summer weather. Make a decision why don't ya?!

And last night I had horrible horrible nightmares. Four of them, in a row. I'd wake up after one and realize it wasn't real, feel better, fall back asleep and dream up something else terrible. Wake up and do the same thing. Four times.
I think it's your fault Bellingham. The oppressive rain has washed away my good dreams.

sprinkles poem

a few nights ago I dreamt I was in a dark room with a large group of people, all sitting on the floor.
everyone was really mellow or bored.

i got up and stood in the corner, held a cupcake with frosting and sprinkles in my hand, and began to recite a poem.
the poem was me saying the colors of every single sprinkle on the frosting.
i said each color intently, speaking them slowly with a low voice.


...i thought that was pretty funny when i woke up.

p.s. Alisha's wedding was stellar.

california dreaming

I totally dreamt about the art department.

It was set in the space at Western, but everything was larger. The walls were higher, the rooms were bigger, and the gallery spaces were more complex and attractive.
We were all working on our last projects. I was doing something with wood. A sort of long train-like piece.

I went into the department in the evening to work on it. I was happy to be devoting time and energy to the solo effort of this project, and it was almost finished. Everything was bright white and beautiful.

I walked past this one huge gallery space with windows and all, David and Taylor were there working on something together. I walked past, figuring I'd talk to Taylor later. I was with friends and was busy talking about our art projects.

Later I was in a class with Sharron. She decided she'd take us downtown because she wanted to buy a new bike and she was extremely excited about it.
Her vehicle to get down there was had a hearth in the backseat. We sat around it. There was a stone over the fire that she was heating to do some arty thing. We watched her work, then she left the fire going as we drove downtown.

I don't remember the bike buying what not, but after that I was at a house. It was dark. I was outside on the dewy cold lawn.
Details are blurry but at one point there was a woman lying on the ground. She came out of the woods. She was like a ghost zombie and I believe I ate part of her.
Then there were other people-an older man, and other people were there.
Pretty much the rest of my dream was terrible, horrifying cannibalism.

a wonderful accident

today during our installation critique a fellow student, speaking about the bed in my house, meant to say "break the bed" and instead said "bake the bread."

so perfect.
so funny.

rock climbing

I hate it when I type out a dream, then it won't post and I have to type it again.
It looses all of its charm!

Anyway,
last night I dreamt I was walking on a Wizard of Oz-esque path with my brother Shaun. The bricks were yellow, the setting made entirely of endless hills in every direction, all lit by a blue-green tone. It was surreal. Nobody else was there.
I looked down to the side of the path and noticed there was a valley that also served as a water drain. I decided to explore down there while he continued to walk along the path.

The grass down there was thick, and large patches were steeped in moist mud. It was slippery and I had to be careful. I continued walking down there for a long time, until I reached one of those concrete tunnels that allows the water flow to continue through land. I realized, reaching that point, that I was now in a place where the path was at least two stories above me. I'd have to either climb the moist mud or the large tan boulders that now lined the walls of the valley.

I decided to climb the rocks, and it wasn't until I reached the last one that I realized what a predicament I put myself in.
I could fall down, easily. The rock could dislodge from the wall. For all I know this could be a fragile rock that crumbles under weight. (I remember thinking Maryann would know...) I paused at that last rock thinking these things and thinking about how high I was and how I should be terrified, but instead I was relatively calm and accepting of whatever was going to happen.
The prospect of death or pain was okay with me.

But I was fine. I reached over that last rock and held onto a pole on the other side, pulling myself up and over and rejoined Shaun on the path.

Everything was unusually calm in that dream, so calm it was unsettling.

Later I sat across from Shaun at a restaurant and we bonded over some kind of American food like hamburgers. We talked about when he was younger.

I feel like this dream must mean something because the whole rock climbing thing sounds like a metaphor. But what is it a metaphor for? I feel like there are a lot of problems that need surmounting right now.

art show, photos to come.

Last night was great.
The art opening went really well. Tons of people came and I got a lot of great comments about my house.
This one man came up to me and told me his lover's mother makes fabric people.
No kidding?! So I made an awesome contact with this man and I'll go look at his mom's art one of these days at his studio.

I talked to him for a good time about keeping up inspiration in life. His advice was travel, having a lover that supports your art endeavors and getting rid of the friends that don't support you. It was funny to have him tell me that. Apparently he's had friends who were a real negative influence in his life, so stopping communication with them helped him keep up with his art. He looked only slightly embarrassed to admit that.
I stepped next door to see his paintings and was there for a good time.

When I went back to our gallery I had a text message, someone was calling me, and the moment I stepped in everyone was like "where were you?! we were trying to find you! someone spilled wine on your house."
oh, man.

so I went in the house and there was an enormous red wine stain on my bed. it was sort of my fault for having made a bed of cardboard. It looked solid, so of course somebody was bound to sit on it.
I quickly flipped the sheet so I could cover the stain with the pillow, but there was still stain showing.
Luckily, I had wrapped a wine bottle in fabric so I placed it beside the stain.
Not at all what I wanted. This was supposed to be a throwback to childhood and fantasy. Alcohol doesn't fit in the concept at all.

But anyway, oh well.

I wish family could have been there, because I really feel that fabric installation and what nots is what I'm really into and possibly the direction I'll continue to take. Having the show felt somewhat significant.

Today I'm gonna take thorough photographs of everything in the space though, so it'll be like you (family that is reading this...)were there. :)

today

is gonna be a good day.

I'm gonna:
go to the gym
paint
bake
attend our art opening
and celebrate Maia's birthday.

yeah, i strongly doubt it could become a bad day.

And so far all the strangers i've encountered seemed particularly happy, so hopefully this is a widespread good day.

camping?

I dreamt there was this guy, who I know, that had a major crush on me.
We were camping and he and his friend came out of the tent, his friend telling me that while he was in there he was compiling a list of all the reasons why he likes me, and all the things that make me awesome.

I was more than flattered, walked up to him, stood a few centimeters from his face and kissed him. But when I did I put my arms at his waist and pinched his sides. He screamed in pain!
He jumped back and said something like "I'm a really emotional person. You just touched my scars and I need to think about this. I'm sorry. I just need some time."
He retreated back into his tent, and I left feeling totally bewildered and guilty for hurting him.

Later we three and a bunch of other people were in a log cabin with large windows. It was dusk and really peaceful. He forgave me and everything was alright.

Man, my subconscious is really full of herself...thinking boys are hiding out in tents writing about me.

wrapping things up.

I guess it hasn't really been a week yet, but still...

I've been working on my installation piece a lot the past few days and it's finally coming together and it's exciting. I want to make more homes of fabric.

I'm hardly at home these days. It feels great. Being home is nice sometimes I guess, but really only for sleeping. And even that is more fun to do at other people's places.

And my last painting based on family is almost done. I was so worried about it until today, when something I did with the composition worked and it's coming together too! Such a good feeling.
The canvas is exploding with people. So far I've got Alisha, Shaun, Madison, Sebrina, and Justin in there.

Now it's just a matter of wrapping up these, the tinman drawing, and the ten page paper.
Then.
Yeah, then, it's all over.

I'll post photos of these things when they're complete.

Now it's time to head back downtown and sew some more.