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mountainous heathen!
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holly girl jennyman cyrus boyk sina boy robert reich honey jaan Prufrock If Afraid So Today's poem |
~ Wednesday, April 27, 2005
for holly i made a bowl at twelve thirty yesterday. clay was hard as hell. had dry little bits all over it. looked terrible. when i was centering, it had lumps on the bottom. but i went with it. tried to talk to it. convince it that i really saw something in it. i saw it being made but i was shocked. it was straight. i didn't have to take anything off it. it was natural. it wasn't trying. then i colored it green. for peace. and because holly is green. i might ruin it by carving in it. it might be too busy. it might blow up in the kiln. a million things may happen. but i'm just happy knowing that at some point in time, maybe long ago, it was great. and that's all that matters. ~ Monday, April 25, 2005
dream this morning, right before my alarm went off, i was having this crazy dream. which i am beginning to forget already, so i have to put it down here. and i type faster than i write, so this is it. i was somehow put into a coop again, which i didn't like at all. it was a regular sized room, but my roomate was this guy who always wore a green shirt with a coat that changed colors. the coat didn't change. the colors on it did. anyhow, he was my roomate and i was scared of him. he never said anything and he was huge. never smiled. anyway, one day i walked in and he started to hide some papers that he was holding in his hand. and he was going to come after me, but i went to someone in some office in the house (as if coops have offices?) and i said that my roomate was scary and never said anything. next shot, we're all falling out the window but real slowly, so that we're figuring out the "mystery" behind this guy. one of my friends (faceless) was arguing with green guy about how he "did it." (now, i realize that there really was no crime. but it really felt like he'd done something horrible to endanger the lives of many people.) so as we're falling, the two are showing us their mathematical induction of how the green guy was able to alter a series of events. on each paper was a two column proof, except that the green guy's proof was sometimes one column and at the end became two columns again. there really wasn't a glitch in his induction, it was just that he got to it a different way. and that's how he tricked the world and did away with his roomate. i was his roomate. i think i died. my alarm rang and betty took the bathroom. lou lost her watch. and i'm late for class. ~ Tuesday, April 19, 2005
on a tuesday at that the poem on today's writers' almanac is by emerson. monday's was good. it was about americans. on sunday, i went with nikolai and kevin to buy a cello from this lady. she was a nasty old woman in a really nice house. very curt. very nice house. nikolai's taking up the cello again after eight years of being without. it was apparently the two cello concertos at SF symphony that did it for him. jenny "negotiated" over the phone, but the lady went so low ($250--along with a guitar at hand), that really, there was no need at the time of the buy. which was good luck since none of us were prepared to haggle. i am supposed to make a bowl for pedersen that has his favorite reaction on it. but i haven't decided what it should be yet. time's running out. so i should get to it. there's this kid in my chemistry class. his name is sina. he's got hair just like me. it's strange. i don't think i can ever get to know someone else named sina. you know, my journal cover is too busy. it's not...postmodern enough for my blood. it's too 1900 and not enough dada. speaking of which, my dad told me to go see bunel movies in the media resource center. i think i should go check check check it out. phantom of liberty. some day soon. oh, and the day i became a woman. that's a must too. goodday. ~ Monday, April 04, 2005
birthing it's a beautiful thing when the deamons leave. this must be why mothers love life. it's really a moment of ecstasy. this must be why it makes it all worth it. this must be why they say they regret nothing. how can they. after all they've been through. after all they've been given. maybe you have no idea what i'm talking about. and maybe i don't fully know either. but only because i sincerely think none of us can at this point. maybe tomorrow. today's the day winston started writing in his journal. i'll be keeping that in mind tonight when i sign my exam. | |