Full-tilt Boogie, and other thoughts

As i procrastinate, i am thinking of movement.
I am working on my thesis, and working on my life.
Movement is so strange. sometimes there are points in your life where everything is swirling around you so fast that you can't seem to get a hold on anything. other times it is moving so slow that you feel like you are stuck and can't even take a step forward. currently, i am experiencing both. which i thought could never happen. school is moving so quickly that as i watch the calendar days fall away, i am becoming increasingly paranoid about what i am going to do after graduation. step one is to graduate, obviously. step two is to go home. i have decided that i cannot stay in LA after graduation. i need to go home and reconnect with myself. this place makes you forget who you are. over the past four years, it has slowly sucked out my soul. this may sound negative, but for me, going home is a positive thing. i need to be back in my element again, but i also need to renew myself in San Francisco. i cannot go back and fit into the same life that i had before i left. i am not the same puzzle piece as before. i have changed so drastically, that i expect it to feel somewhat like moving to a whole new city. one that i have never experienced before. my anxiety is mostly around finding a job up there that suits me. but i really don't have time to worry about that, it will come sooner than later and i can deal with it then. for now, i have to face the reality that i have about six weeks to get all of my paintings done in order to have enough time to properly prepare my senior show. its flying by, and i'm hoping to have a grasp on it in the next two weeks.

the slow part of my life is the personal part. i have been sitting, stagnant, for months. after a parting of ways, i was extremely upset, disoriented, and lost. i was in a real bad way. after sitting on my parents' couch for all of winter break, crying myself to sleep every night, and eating everything that could possibly fit in my mouth, i decided to get up. i couldn't sit and wait around for things to change, i had to make the changes myself. and now that things are coming full circle (slowly but surely-ish) i find myself having to be patient in a way that i never have before. i am forced to just sit and watch the days drag on. there is nothing i can do about it, there is nothing i can say to speed up the process. i have to wait. i hate waiting. i am a very impatient person. but if i rush things, i know it's going to blow up in my face. so in the meantime, while the magic does its work, and while the universe sorts things out, putting them into little files and pulling out old ones and moving them around, i sit.

there is a push and pull that is happening as a result of this dichotomy. i am flying around, trying to get all this work done, but then, out of nowhere, comes a moment of absolute stillness. sometimes it's peaceful and calming. other times it is unsettling and it makes me anxious. i don't know exactly how i am supposed to handle these two opposing parts of my life, but i am doing my best to be patient and keep working through them.

when i feel rushed, the slowness is where i want to be, and when i feel stuck, i crave the movement. it feels like i am in a whirlpool, being tugged around and sucked into the center. hopefully there will be answers there?

for now, i have no time for stillness in my work. i have to produce and i have no other option. i am letting the stillness be the top of the river water, looking calm and slow, and the movement be the undercurrent, ready to suck down anything that should so happen to dive in. that's a little terrifying, maybe i need a better analogy.

the only comfort i have is that time will keep ticking. and i will eventually come to an answer. everything is going to happen the way its going to happen, and when its going to happen. and it won't happen any other way.

presently, i am full-tilt boogie (as my teacher would say) on my work. taking a moment to pause, and enjoy the still quiet that surrounds me.

Journey to the Precipice

When you were born, The Creator came and pressed his finger to your lips.
"Shhhh", he said. "you will remember what no one else does".

A scared child runs down the hallway of an empty house. Shadows chase her. She clambers into her room, where they cannot enter and dives under the covers of her bed. She is protected by a fortress. The walls glow while she sleeps and two dark figures stand behind the threshold. The tall one, who she has named Tom, stands and cocks his head to the side, a curious dog. Then he grins. His pale, dead face contorted with the grin as if it causes him pain. The blue-yellow tones of his skin are drowned out by the candle light in the room. His skin, hanging limply from his bones, (if he has any) ready to peel away and melt into the floor. The smaller one, about two feet high, with bright yellow eyes bares his teeth, a green algae color. He has no figure, more of a small lump with legs, no color, just a small black mass of shadow, but his eyes glow with the reflection of the candle.
The child knows she is safe, but they stand there, torturing her, keeping her from sleep. She rolls away from them, pulling the covers over her head, but leaving a space to breathe and more importantly, to see. She turns her head to make sure they are not getting closer. Terrified by the thought of them, she tucks herself back under the covers.
In her mind, she calls her angels. They appear in the middle of the room, glowing. These are not the angels of the bible, white, ethereal, winged. They are a ragtag bunch of spirits. Dead friends, guardians, people from the past. They begin from the right-hand side of the door, spreading a glowing barrier from the floor to the ceiling, working their way clockwise. they work all the way around the room to the other side of the door and seal the door with the same light.She knows she is safe

I'll see you when we get there

i'm here, reflecting on the past five years.
it has been a long journey, and i feel that i have come a long way. but i also know there is a lot of work to be done. i miss those that are gone, and those that are here but are not around.
i remember the phone calls. i remember the voices that told me. shaky, in shock, and somehow vacant. the voice that you use when all you can do is survive. when people ask you how you are and the reflexive, "i'm doin' alright, you?" automatically comes out. you operate like a robot, all programmed, no impulse, no creativity, no emotion. because once one emotion comes out, they pour out in a release that cannot be stopped.

fall
recover
fall
recover
fall
recover

you get a little more removed each time so that when you fall, you barely feel it anymore. you just know the familiar thud against the ground. you hear the familiar sounds of your life rushing by uncontrollably.

i come from a place where the young die unjustly. i come from a place where people kill each other and kill themselves. where violence is so deeply rooted in our culture that we begin to take it out on ourselves. the violence turns inward and it keeps going.

So You're Going to be a Senior...

as i approach my senior year of college i feel scared, overwhelmed, relieved, happy, and nervous all at the same time.
i have 8 months to get together my whole senior show and be ready to face the world as an adult with a degree...
i have been having a recent onslaught of small panic attacks whenever i think about school. they are usually followed by nausea and exhaustion. i start a week from today. it will be a long, scary road, but i also feel like it's going to go by quicker than i anticipate. i know that "tomorrow" i'm going to be standing at senior show, shitting my pants and wondering where the last 8 months have gone. i know it will be exciting, but it scares the hell out of me to think that shortly, i will be completely responsible for everything that happens to me. no more class, no more papers, no more critiques...

no use in wasting time,
back to Otis in a week!!

traveling through the mental landscape

it's time once again to evaluate my personal journey.
this summer has been a whirlwind adventure emotionally, geographically, and mentally. my limits have been tested and it has come to my attention that i no longer have the capacity for bullshit.
i have driven between Los Angeles and San Francisco at least half a dozen times in the past 4 months. the 6+ hour drive gives you a lot of time to think, as if you are not already lost in your head half the time. my car does not have air conditioning. driving in 95 degree weather for that long with nothing but warm air blowing on you really makes you value simple things in life. if you are ever in a situation similar to that, i suggest closing the windows and turning off the fan for 3 minutes. you will sweat and maybe even get dizzy. but open that window after those 3 minutes and i guarantee, its the best thing you've ever felt. it's not healthy to do this drive with such frequency, nor is it financially advisable with the current gas prices, but like my mom says, "love is supposed to make you retarded".
yes, ladies and gentlemen, i did it for boy. and i don't regret it one bit.

i traveled to the south of france for nearly a month. i have never been there and i speak very little french. it was a test of the mind over there in france. i have never been away from my friends or family for that long, i have always had one or the other. i was with my boss and her two amazing daughters. she and i travel well together and it was a good experience for me. the hard thing was trying to build a relationship while being half way around the world. it taught me a lot about myself and my boundaries. it also taught me a lot about love. it showed me that i can endure very difficult things (as if we didn't already know that) and come out on the other side in one piece. i have always known this about myself deep down, but this brought it to light.
another thing i learned was that i am a down-ass-bitch and a brilliant young woman. i am willing to make sacrifices and compromises for the things that are important to me without sacrificing myself. it has been a hard balance, but for me, the feelings have endured and although the present state of things is not ideal, i know that what i feel is true. i know that no matter what happens, i have been completely honest with myself. no more punk rock nightmares, no more addicts and alcoholics. no more delusional distractions from my personal demons. only loving people who i love who love me. people who see me for what i really am and still like me. people that i can spend days on end with and not get sick of them. people that feel like home. love is one of those things that you can try and try to describe, but it just makes you completely retarded. yep, love makes you retarded. you trip, fall, stumble, stutter, fumble, and slip. but it feels really nice sometimes. other times, it feels like hell. but we endure.

lost in lost angeles

written sometime during midterms week:


lately, i have been drawn to the water. and not in a, "hey lets go to the beach sometime" way, but in a "i need to go to the beach and jump in the water NOW" way. i have been four times in the past week or so, three times to dockweiler and once to big dume. if you can make it out there, big dume is worth the trip, its rocky and there's a reef, but there are also tons of freckled little blond boys running around and clean water and awesome tide pools.

i approach the shore hesitantly. i have not been in the water in months. as the mother ocean greets me, i step into the water, the familiar cold sensation rushing through my legs. i feel the sand under my toes. i wiggle them. i look out toward the horizon and inhale deeply, sensing the cold mist filling my lungs.
something inside me crinkles and cracks open like the crust on the top of sand when the salt mixes with the sand when the tide has gone out. it looks solid from afar, but when you step on it, it breaks open to reveal the warm soft sand underneath.

there is something so alluring for me about the beach. i can remember being drawn equally when i was a child, looking out onto the shore from the car and yearning to run full force out into the water. it's not a simple or subtle thing. it's an overwhelming and powerful need. A need in the way that one needs to breathe. i don't feel truly at peace unless i am near water. river, stream, creek, ocean, rain, any body of water will do. fresh or salt, the water makes me feel at home.
having lived in san francisco for all of my life has harbored this need to be near the water. when you are surrounded by water on 3 sides, you kind of can't get away from it. it becomes part of your life. bridges and shores, fisherman and small boats, boat houses, glass beach, sunsets, sunrise. the clearest you've ever seen are on the san francisco shores. nothing is as pure or untainted for me. i am sure that somewhere in nature there is something more pure, but for me, it is the clearest thing i have seen in my travels. from the shores of mexico to the beaches in egypt, i have seen nothing better than a sunrise at the pier in san francisco, and i have seen many.

the world is complicated and i find myself so restricted when i am at school, working, with friends, or elsewhere. even when i am by myself, i feel, at times, so held in. but when i am in the ocean, in the water, i am free. i am myself at the most pure state. i am in my element. i walk through the water away from the shore, towards the great open space held before me. the horizon seems infinitely far away. if i had a boat i would sail toward it until i cold take it in my hands and hold it.
when i am hurting, emotionally or physically, the only medicine that seems to cure me is the salty sea air. a wash in the ocean.

the cold water licks my legs and pulls me forward. i tuck my dress up around my thighs and walk in farther. seaweed swirls around my ankles, teasing and taunting me to go farther. the waves rise like flames and engulf my waist, wrapping around me like the arms of a lover. the sand brushes past my feet and i feel as though i am floating on the surface of some wave, i watch and wait for the water to beckon me more. we play a game. we push and pull each other back and forth. i dare it to come out and it dares me to walk in. we flirt and dance, i walk with a swirling motion, gravity no longer affecting me, like a soft tango or waltz.

then she starts to push. she senses my uncertainty and knows that if i go in further i will not return to shore, i will wade there forever in the surf, content to abandon civilization. so she pushes me out, waves slapping my legs hard, like a mother wolf pushing its pups toward food. she pushes and i follow her lead, slowly retreating to the sand, to the shore. she enjoys the visit, but will not indulge in keeping me for herself.
i return to the shore, tingling and cold, covered in salt and sand, in a complete state of bliss and enjoyment.
we have bonded for as long as it took for me to reconnect with her. we danced, we swayed, we played and sang. and when it was time, she sent be back, with clarity and peace as a farewell.

in first gear

we started off slow, and built up speed.
before i knew it, we were in 5th gear, careening down the highway with no particular place to go.

and suddenly, you told me to drop it down to second.
the gears were grinding, the engine screaming and i was afraid it would explode.

we slowed down, approaching grid lock and i dropped down to first.
you looked at me as if i had done something wrong.

because for you, first gear was not enough and third was too much, but i still loved you in fifth.