demolishing a building? that was a high. and not just from the paint fumes. i loved it because it was completely out of character and wonderful and destructive and crazy and something i'll never get to, legally, do again probably.
and i woke up yesterday and felt this long looming weekend ahead of me. something that had no meaning and somehow so physically debilitating that i just couldnt get out of bed. i had to find something, some good reason, to not lay in bed and stew all day. the sun was out yesterday and i could see it and i could feel that there was posibility. but i could not get out of bed. but then i remembered i could go practice at the pottery studio. having not been able to be there the last 2 sessions bc of snow i was afraid i wouldnt be able to do anything and really just wanted to quit. but the amount of money i have sunk into this made me stick with it. and i'm so glad i went. bc in the many hours i spent there yesterday i could just turn everything off and concentrate on the clay. i think i said that before about this. but i just wish you could experience it through my eyes. it is the most theraputic thing i have right now and i forget that until i am sitting there at the wheel. i was having an off day and couldnt get very many pieces to rise. i'm telling myself its ok that in all the time i spent that i only have 3 that are passable. but i'm still learning. so here is what i ended up with yesterday:
The one on the right looks pretty crummy right now, but once it gets leather-hard i can go back and trim it up and put a base on it and hopefully make it look semi-decent. this is by far the hardest art/craft project i have ever undertaken. but seeing it come together in my hands is one of the best feelings on earth.and then i went home and fell asleep. because i suck like that. but i did go to dinner with friends, and then had fondue with more friends. and those were good things. and i realized once again what good people i do still have in my life because of this:
yes. that is a flower in a block of ice. after reading the lovely conversation i had with my grandmother, christopher went out and bought me a flower. however, because of schedules and tests and other things that happen this week, i didn't see him til dinner last night. so he froze it in a block of ice for me and gave it to me in an igloo cooler. how nice is that? so i put it in a ziploc back and put it in my freezer so if i'm feeling like garbage i can look in there and remember that i do have people in my life that actually care about me. and that is a nice thing. something i frequently forget. something i didn't believe for a long time because i allowed a select few people to convince me that i wasnt worth anything.however. the not sleeping. or the sleeping too much. this is still messing with my life. i didn't fall asleep til 430 this morning. and woke up at 9. and in that time had the most vivid dream to date. i dreamed that after all this time i was moving back into a dorm. i had no luggage or anything, but was walking around this college campus to find my dorm. and i ran into a girl i knew growing up, someone i havent spoken to or thought of in nearly 8 years, and she tried to help me find my room. 604. in the orange wing. why this i remember or was important, i have no idea. but it was 604 in the orange wing. only i didnt know what building. the three options were the Wilson, Truman, and Cary Grant. Did Cary Grant ever play a president? bc thats the only way that collection even makes sense. i woke up before i ever found 604 in the orange wing.
so. yeah. i dont know what any of this means or why i continue to tell you this garbage. it's in my head and it's got to go somewhere. and you people seem to continue reading it. i wonder if strangers ever end up here and what they think of it. i would like to know.
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