I've been working on this book of poetry/illustrations for the last two snow filled days. I should be doing other things (senior project, FAFSA, applications) but I just kind of put my foot down and said to myself: It's cold. You're hungry. The power is intermittently going out. Make this and be happy.
And everything was going well, until, well, I brought out the embroidery thread, and began stitching words into card stock. Oi veh.
All supplies are now gathered on my desk. On probation until further notice. I will probably be back to them in half an hour, once they have learned their lesson.
Speaking of art being frustrating, I'm taking the craziest mini-term. It's all about art and indeterminacy, and how we can create art that is not fully centered on emotion. It's really uncomfortable, at least for me. I operate creatively based almost entirely on my emotional threshold. To take that away, to say it no longer matters is very strange for me. As I said, rather embarrassingly in a class discussion in front of sixty of my peers, my music can't be about "that boy last summer" anymore. Funny. I feel slightly robbed.
Other than artistic frustration, my life has been fairly rosy lately. Most importantly, I got this scholarship. And it means that next year, I'm probably going to be somewhere I really, really, want to be. I have been so frightened that I have left something out. That I am missing a huge piece of this process. And maybe I am. But I don't feel as frightened about it anymore.
Cello has also been really rewarding lately. Things are starting to feel easier than they were at the beginning of the year. I'm really excited about our programming for the next semester in school, which includes Phillip Glass and Gershwin (okay arranged Gershwin, but who cares?)
We have all this snow at our house. I haven't ventured outside in two days. I don't like the snow, and I know I sound like a total party pooper, but I just don't. I don't get it.
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