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[04 Nov 2005|01:48am] |
i will soon abandon this lj for another one: mavieordinaire
just because i've had this one too long.
goodnight.
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| bicycles |
[30 Oct 2005|03:16pm] |
today's discovery: a few minutes bike ride from my house leads to... kansas countryside, essentially. it's not so much a "discovery" since i already knew this, but a "realization" since i had never taken advantage of it before. and if you take fifteenth street back into town, you get the added bonus of being able to bike through the lawrence memorial cemetary.
nikki & i did this today... the air was just cool enough, the sun just warm enough, the light just orange enough. the trees all changing and the fields still golden. these are the things i can't believe i didn't take advantage of until now.
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| sto male |
[28 Oct 2005|11:00pm] |
sleepy, draining, sore Friday night colds are a good time to feel generally miserable about everything, i suppose.
Marnie recently posted:
"how do you choose how to live your life?
any decision acknowledges how short it all is."
i'm sure that i'm not unique in being overwhelmed by this. not that one decision must be permanent, but that everything is, essentially, a series of Choices. in doing one thing we are actively chosing not to do another. and it's all done within a rather limited and unpredictable time frame. thank god for things like good friends, good music, good food. modigliani, paper cranes, warm lighting, wine, nabokov, swimming pools, orange roses, vegetable gardens, bicycles, joanna newsom, stories.
and what to do after the next year and a half? start over, start somewhere else. what i'm most afraid of? the inherent Loneliness of not being ready to stay in one place, of simply not knowing. of wasting my time. Putting all your faith in the idea that one day you might have something worthwhile to say and be able to say it is mildly daunting. not to mention if it matters whether or not you do.
...
anyhow. sorry to be so "serious." i'm just lying around feeling sick and being depressed so you know how it goes ;)
until again.
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| sometimes, it's just easier to make lists |
[16 Oct 2005|01:00pm] |
bonnes choses:
milton's breakfast
nikki's dad's stories
bruschetta
the new lorenz/evanhoe/victor crew
october birthdays, of which there are pas mal
nikki gibson
8 new (used) records
wellness pills
being CHILLY
indian weddings
unexpected parties where everyone actually gets along
my kitchen table
wine. bottles and bottles of.
walking into bars and actually appreciating the music
our blue whistling teakettle
pictures of food
the speedy roadside service of AAA
mauvaises choses:
unability to get any work done before sunday
locking my keys in the car
while it's running
and in drive
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| uh |
[03 Oct 2005|03:24am] |
so i was looking for the actual biblical source of a reference made in Heptameron, and I found this on a website entitled "Bible verses for your WEDDING":
Matthew - Chapter 5:27-28
You have heard that it was said, "Do not commit adultery." But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.
ha!
a little foreboding for a wedding it seems.
one could be a little less, um, ominous, and just read some gibran or something.
mon dieu.
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| i suppose that nobel literature winners have, in general, well-written speeches |
[01 Oct 2005|02:39am] |
"Our tragedy today is a general and universal physical fear so long sustained by now that we can even bear it. There are no longer problems of the spirit. There is only the question: When will I be blown up? Because of this, the young man or woman writing today has forgotten the problems of the human heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing because only that is worth writing about." - faulkner
...
today:
it was nice to sit and chat with bruce for the first time in awhile.
i was told, by a dutch rocker after he addressed me in his native language, "oh, i thought you were dutch."
his band's name was ZZZ
they were all very nice, my fellow netherlandaners
"whiskey shoes" and "cadillac hat" hosted a fancy party
i danced blisters into my feet
note: it is now the first of october, and the lawrence air is just right.
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| in hiding |
[30 Sep 2005|01:54am] |
my god, i cannot get OFF THE INTERNET. what is wrong with me?
total avoidance. it's really not good. i feel like i'm the middle of some social/academic/mental/general tangled ball of knots looping in and out and everywhere around me. i'm in one of those "i need to sort my own shit out right now before i can be part of your life or be responsible for anything else" stages. i hope it gets worked out soon.
blah. time for reading.
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| honeysuckle |
[24 Sep 2005|03:35pm] |
allora.
something is just not feeling quite right about me today. it's pretty strange & distant & mildly scary.
anyhow, everytime i re-read parts of the sound and the fury i am simply re-astounded by it. quentin's mental process during his section is just impressive and so confusingly beautiful.
i'm trying to think of what to write my next story on. it takes such a strange amount of emotional and mental energy to write when there's no particular idea presenting itself to you. kind of the same feeling as having to act in some sort of emotionally charged scene, or any scene really, when you are feeling the exact opposite of what you're trying to portray. or just don't have the energy to be yourself, not to mention someone else. plus there's no script. and yet it's some sort of a necessity to keep doing it. strange, yes?
nikki, emily & i went to see carmen at the kc lyric last night. audrey was there too. i thought the voices were pretty great & the whole experience was just kind of giddy and beautiful overall. it did bother me though hearing the actors/singers who obviously didn't speak french trying to speak it on stage. not.too.convincing. i guess it's something you wouldn't really notice unless you actually speak the language, but with the exception of about three characters it was pretty frustrating to listen to. that's just me though; it was a good opera. we looked fabulous too, and had a lovely time walking around before the show in the midst of just-beginning-to-be-fall evening time in downtown kansas city. and the whole city was covered in fog when we got out, obscuring the old brick buildings and causing lights to float disconnected from the tops of skyscrapers and neon signs and the tips of invisible lampposts. we'll definitely be attending the entire season. seriously, only $10 for student rush tickets, you just have to make sure you get there an hour before hand so they don't sell out.
well, time to finish a paper. finally. i hope. nikki's put me in seclusion until i get it done. my whole mind is so weird and disconnected and headache-y today though, so i don't know. we'll see.
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| and this is where i projectile vomit words |
[22 Sep 2005|11:19pm] |
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mood |
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music |
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electrelane |
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i have somehow made it through life with very few enemies, but i think the 2Villains may have a new arch nemesis. i'm mildly excited about this.
what else. lately i've been feeling the kate lorenz comment that "i love reading and writing!" i had at some point in time stopped reading much, having developed this insatiable need to be more involved in real-life-happening-around-me, almost a violent breaking away from the fiction that i had come to define everything by, and now that i've successfully embraced that (ha) it's been really fulfulling to just read again.
other news: i love my housemates. i love veggie lunch. i love that megan is coming to visit. i love that today's the first day of fall, but i do not love that it doesn't feel like the first day of fall. i am an adult and i talk about the weather. i think i told someone to shoot me if i ever turned into this. i hope they don't remember. oh, i lost my cellphone, so if i haven't called you back this week, that's why. actually it's not lost, i just haven't been able to get it back yet. so it goes.
onto struggling through heptameron and studying for italian. why i am just starting these things right now, i don't know. but i did have a lovely afternoon with nikki :) iced coffee and lemon cake while sitting in the window at milton's is quite a plaisir.
<3
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| liste automatique |
[21 Sep 2005|11:42pm] |
oh, what the hell. this seems a little self-indulgent, but then so is livejournal. :)
bicycles:
i wish that mine hadn't been stolen & that my new one worked better. but plans to head to a kc lady-run bicycle shop/store have been made (http://www.acmebicyclecompany.com/). i really wish we had a bicycle-based local transportation system. except in the winter. dance:
[see previous post]. i believe that people who don't dance are missing some essential part of being human. food:
one of the finest things in life. and thankfully, also a necessity. i'm a big fan of the slow-food movement. http://www.slowfood.com/ le petit prince:
"People where you live," the little prince said, "grow five thousand roses in one garden... yet they don't find what they're looking for..." nabokov:
my favourite writer. absolutely astounding and hilarious. read pale fire, and maybe you will understand. plays:
performing, watching, and reading. i wish good theatre would become the most popular entertainment medium again. spaghetti westerns:
the good the bad and the ugly. exactly. taking pictures:
especially in the autumn for some reason. something i wish i had developed more throughout my life, but then there's still time, yes? train travel:
of course. we could really use a good train system in the united states. oh wait, we're destroying it. vinyls:
i don't want to debate it. it's tangible music.
Enter your LJ user name, and 10 interests will be selected from your interest list.
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[17 Sep 2005|02:07pm] |
um so i feel really ridiculous because apparently i cry whenever i see even brief moments of ballet? i watched some french documentary on ballet dancers today and tears were a streamin' down my face. embarassing.
blah in other news i need to start drawing/painting/oilpastelling/photographing again soon. also i feel like i'm wasting my time with a lot of things. prof. hayes has kind of slapped us the in face lately with questions about what we're doing and why we're doing and why so many people lack passion and curiosity today. what is it in your life that you get out of bed for in the morning?! is there anything?! he demanded, fervently waving his arms and wiping sweat from his forehead as he stood in front of our class. so: assuming there's only limited time (a good assumption i suppose), and assuming we can do a lot of things but not everything, and assuming one thing we do takes away from one other thing we could do, and that there are payoffs on both ends, and supposing we sleep away most of our lives (i do), and buy into, even a little bit, the safety net of society, and live without either passion (although i hate to use that word... necessity, lust?) or dedication to some greater ideal or idea or human responsibility one to the other... how can i look at myself and say that i'm doing anything genuine or worthwhile? sometimes it just rises up in my stomach until i scream complacency out of myself.
other realization: i'm terrible with phones, and with being available to people in general. i know it must be very frustrating, based on how much shit i take for it every day. i apologize.
...
aside from all other thoughts, it's beautiful today, cool & sunny and audrey says that pumpkin ale has made its yearly appearance on liquor store shelves. the italian table was actually fun yesterday, though i don't speak much italian yet. and the aristocrats is indeed worth seeing. it will make you uncomfortably aware of our human fascination with the crass, vulgar, and scandalous.
i'm totally scattered right now & will probably be more coherent later when i'm not drowning somewhere between having days upon days of studying and reading and writing to do, and a currently insatiable desire to, well, read, study, write, and create things completely separate from what i'm supposed to be doing. mais c'est normal ca.
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| bring your monocle! |
[06 Sep 2005|12:11pm] |
at-the-door student rush tickets at the kansas city lyric opera: $10
who wants to try for the full season? carmen, the turn of the screw, Lucia di Lammermoor, and the merry widow.
nikki's in.
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[18 Aug 2005|04:15pm] |
I wish wish wish I had something interesting to say, because I really want to write something, I do. fiction writing class makes me nervous, my GIS prof is a peach (w!), one of my high school english teachers (ms stucky!) emailed me a few days ago, the little dollhouse on new york street where i now live is wonderful (we have named it the new york street bordello, because apparently that's technically what it's classified as in the state of kansas?), and overall life is hot and sticky as a veggie heaven curry bun. which now that i think about it, isn't terribly sticky. i guess it'd be more like a momoko pot sticker.
in GIS class today, the prof asked us to tell him our "most favourite" places, and then we found them on the special GIS map. i couldn't think of one that i could choose over all others, so we just skipped me, and after class i made friends with the only other guy in the class who was equally as hard-pressed to make such a difficult decision, in front of strangers nonetheless. sometimes, especially when i have just gotten back from some sort of travel adventure or am listening to friends recount theirs, it starts to strike me as odd that i live in kansas. kind of one of those "of all places" feelings. but i'm strangely glad i do, for the moment anyhow. i can't wait for autumn. the first case of pumpkin ale i see, i'm buying it.
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| true story |
[17 Jul 2005|04:06pm] |
across the room, by the window, a mother and her twenty-something son sit down together for a cup of coffee. john having been adopted, one can only imagine the phone call that brought them both here. together, their first meeting in twenty-something years.
they are filling the room.
...
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| 7 am |
[22 Jun 2005|07:12am] |
For so rarely allowing myself to pause still and awake in it, I love this time of morning. The squinty-eyed, bright coolness of sun, soft-voiced, stark 7 am when, if you have nowhere to be just quite yet, it's as if you've accidentally stolen into someone else's beginning-hour and must willingly take your place to the side. Feet pad with unforced softness across the room, the click and gurgle of the coffeepot offsetting and wildly anticipatory. He will need: a lunch, a thermos of coffee, steel-toed boots, a hat. Two pieces of toast into slick dark double-mouths, my usual white Presbyterian-social-function mug already filled with coffee. Smiles always steal unexpectedly soft and open into the quiet. I smile back, we sit, he's late, feel better love, I already do, he's out the door. Repose.
It's with a certain haphazard determination that early-off-to-work cars slide down the street below the window. Muted rumbling. There are few greater pleasures than having nowhere in particular to be at 7am. It's extra-time, time-worth-having, impossible to waste, easy to spend, filling its own space, stealthily brighter and louder with each awkward tick of the hand, always pausing and sliding in its own glorious secret very-existence. 7 am. Only his cat Sofya notices me at this time of morning, content I've finally decided to wake up at a decent hour. Blanket from the bed, knees curled into the chair, low grumble of Sofya's pleasure and my asthmatic lungs. He'll have been at the factory for about an hour now, playing with wall glue and labels and cardboard boxes and dog food and calendars and paper pallets and repetition repetetion and all other such details he individually loves so to collectively hate. Can't blame him, anyone would. Only one week after this I say, forced optimism. I hope no one finds out I'm a philospher he says. Mon petit philosophe. I decided not to complain to him that today, again, I want to skip philosophy class. 7 am speaks for itself, and all words that cut through its stark silence seem over-stated. I'm glad for this hour, for his static impression-negative of dishes on the counter, the nearly empty coffeepot, the bed made with what i can only assume to have been quick festivity; for knowing that soon Glen will be awake and stumble tall and mostly asleep into the room to the exuberant tune of "Les Papillons," for Sofya lurking and sliding comfortably through 7 am as she must always do between nuzzling our still-sleeping and sweet-dreaming heads, just to let us know, out of politeness or love or impatience, that we're missing it. Roll over, go back to sleep. Time of early-birds and lazy corner-spiders and blinking-eyes into which today, somehow, I've accidentally awoken to fold up and keep for my own (if I could), a pocket-morning that belongs to the blunt determination of drivers rolling muted below the window and to the sharp crescendo hum of conveyor belts just starting up far enough from my ear to be a fairy tale of the working day that I'll listen to later half-sleepy with sun and too familiar with how those numbers on the evening clock like to follow each other so very close. 7 am, time of pause and waking stillness for strangers to its hour.
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| le hip-hop francais en evolution |
[10 May 2005|01:45pm] |
final french paper due at midnight. 1.5 of 8-10 pages currently finished. haha. sometimes i do wish i had a better school-work ethic.
i had a dream about making documentaries in senegal last night. i can't really say that it's a dream-revelation, because i'm pretty sure i just dreamed about it because i had been thinking about doing that recently, but it made the whole plan a little stronger in my mind. i'm really exicted about making films. ;)
i'm wondering if it's worth leaving the wonderful work-space perch i have found at the library to get some food right now. maybe just a little more writing...
sometimes i write the most pointless things.
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| cookie monster heaven |
[25 Apr 2005|08:39pm] |
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my friend peter told me about one of the most wonderful places in the world, which exists in minnesota (which is strange because my only other friend peter lives in minnesota). this most wonderful place is what he called a cookie house... no, it is not a house with lots of cookies to buy, or a house made of cookies, but rather a house for making cookies. it is the former house of an old woman who stipulated in her will that the house could be lived in by other people (free of rent, maybe?) after her death, as long as they kept the kitchen constantly stocked with all the ingredients necessary to make cookies, so that now anyone in the community can come in at any time and just make themselves some cookies. why doesn't every town have one of these places? i think we should all take a minute to think about what a happy place a cookie making house must be.
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therosewindow's journal