writing about the mundane seems to be a thing

i don't really know why i always feel the need to have to put thoughts out. when it just exists in my journal, it somehow doesn't feel enough. it may be? i don't know. but maybe it's just an artist thing.. like the need for my art to be in the world, or to exist beyond my bedroom, or my apartment. greg was talking about his music the same way - like there's just something about having it out in the world - beyond yourself, that seems important. somehow. i wonder if i have learnt to question it less - i don't think so since i'm still writing about it. but i feel like i used to think it, and prevent myself from putting stuff out/up because i don't understand it. but maybe, i accept it a little better now - that urge/impulse/instinct.

alexa and i did handstands/cartwheels/somersaults and rolled down the hill today at the park. i felt like i haven't felt the freedom to run around, and jump and feel the freedom of simply being in a while. we sat atop of the hill - a pretty sad hill, with concrete and weirdly placed rocks, and an odd piece of art work that is missing several components, and watched as cars and trucks drove past on the high way. the sun was really shining. i lay on the grass, letting my skin take in all that it'd been deprived of the past few months. the lack of sun probably does contribute to why i feel sad all the time, along with other factors. but in that moment, i wasn't sad. it was really nice to share this park i've held so dear to my heart with someone else. alexa seemed to appreciate the sad beauty of it the way i do, and it made me smile. we stood by the quarry pond thing for a sec, there were two geese, and maybe 5-6 ducks. they weren't showing off their somersaults today though, they kind of just hung out in a corner. the water was kinda cold. 

had a much needed discussion at greg's place yesterday with courtney and anca. i don't think i am in a coherent enough state to type about it right now, but it just put into words a lot of struggles and frustrations that i thought i was alone in, and was somewhat of a reaffirming nudge that i was exploring my faith and my art well, and to keep doing it, maybe with a little more company. i made a painting out of blackberries on my paper plate.

i kept trying to think what i did on friday, but realised i spent practically the whole day at home, writing an application for submitting some work for a show, that probably has minimal probability of actually getting chosen. applications frustrate me, because most of the time, they feel like a waste of time. but it's just doing it again and again until something happens right? i don't know. i remember sam telling us about having a folder where she keeps all her 'failures'. when you look back, they probably carry a more positive significance than it feels in the moment. maybe not. i'll let you know when i feel more successful. tricia texted me to ask if she could come over, and if i could help alter her dress before we headed for the bfa opening. i don't think i did a very good job. it was decent. but definitely not the best. i think i did her makeup a little better than i did the dress though. and people look at your face more right? it was surreal, for me - going to see her show. she must have felt it harder/everyday i know she's thinking about graduation. i don't think it was so much the show itself, than what it represents - some sort of a time-marker or a recognition that you have come this far in school, and got through classes, and made work, and friends, and know yourself at least a little better and have grown. i think about when me and tri first skyped to talk about living arrangements, i remember where exactly i was having that conversation. i'm going to start crying (good luck holding it in tricia if you're reading this), and living together, and eating red velvet cake together. we always bought two because it was 2 for $5. whenever one of us was sad, the other would buy it. it made your poop red - there was that much colouring. walgreens. i think i'm going to leave the rest for writing an actual card for her which i really need to do. but tri, i am so proud of you, and you should also be so very proud of yourself. i love you very much.

also!!! sarah and mychaela visited/are visiting. i got to see both of them on friday and that made my heart so full.

(photo by jo)

i want to write poems again. but right now, writing about the mundane seems to be a thing. i mean, i have been making work about the everyday for a while now. maybe i'll get poetic again eventually. 

the thing i am most proud of myself right now: you know that moment when you finish eating, and you have a choice whether to quickly slip the dish/pot into the sink and pretend it doesn't exist, or to actually stay and wash it, i am proud of myself for that tiny bit of willpower to push me over the middle to actually wash my dishes. it's not a big deal. but it is though.

(feeling too much)