I Go to Seek a Great Perhaps

Those times when you feel as though life is so full of reasons to be joyful

Warm blankets from my childhood

Baby animals

Smiling at people I don't even know in the grocery store

A good vintage boutique/consignment

Art museums full of pieces I don't necessarily understand, but can appreciate

Finding a wonderful new musician

Watching a beautifully done musical or play

Rearranging my furniture just for fun

Spending time with my best friend Sydney

Eating a perfectly ripe orange on a sunny day

The smile on an unfamiliar face after I've given them a heartfelt compliment in passing

Driving with the windows down along an empty country road

Visiting my extended family

A nice day spent working hard in the yard.

I'm looking for something.

But I don't know what, or where, or why.
Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed by my own emotions. 

It's positively the worst thing in the world. I like to maintain a reasonable amount of control over my reaction to life. But you...well, you pull out the best and the worst from me. You make me laugh and cry and dance and die inside. You steal the shields and open the shutters, exposing the raw and unrefined parts of myself that I hide away. At times, I am so thoroughly relieved by this, because it means that you aren't ashamed of the person you know I am. Other times I get violatile and wounded, because I am still not sure wether I'm making much progress on becoming the person I want to be. The person I feel I owe the world. 

I want so badly to be a good thing. 

Humanity holds so much promise, but it all depends on the direction in which each individual takes their existence. It's beautiful, really, to know that one life is capable of such greatness and goodness. And you. You've managed to be such a reassurance whenever I think I may be doubting that. Making me open my eyes to less sought after dimensions as well as the comforts that you can't see in the dark. Oh, why do I ever cause or enter into a conflict? Even if everything isn't exactly as I think it may be, there's always a smoother way out. I feel that perhaps at times I just need to anchor myself a bit more to the solidity of life as I once knew it. I want the simple complexity of the wild. Extravagant dreams being what they are and the ground beneath my feet. To move and roll with where ever I should end up longing to be. I think that, at heart, I'm still a bit of a wild thing. Feeding the fires of my desperation for freedom by fighting against anything that might tie me down. I get curious about things I don't understand, but I also can become quite terrified and hostile when they end up being more than I thought they would. 

You are so much more than I thought you would be. 

And that frightens me so much. I know that you could very easily hurt me. So easily. My first and most primal reflex would be to tell myself that I had let it happen. By letting my guard down and letting you in I let go of my desire to be as safe as I could be. Trust is such a delicate thing. Such a powerful, dizzying, painful, lifesaving thing. 

I've put mine in you.

So please, world, be patient and know that, while this is a very difficult thing for me to do,
I'm getting better.

Mais, Oui, Mon Amis!

"And then they told us that the cat we've adopted, Lyla, is in fact a boy."

I love my friends.

:)

Truly.

We can do and talk about nearly anything and have a good time. It doesn't matter where we are, or if we spend money or not, we have good times. And those are the best kind of friends. The ones who are simply willing to enjoy your company, no matter what you're feeling up to. I am lucky to have lots of those. And of course, there are different friends that I go to for different things in particular. Just like you go to different books to gain a more specific knowledge of one thing or another. 

Yeah. We're cool.

The Reluctant Insomniac

So, I do this thing where I lay completely still {Without A Sound} for hours trying to catch some sleep. Apparently I'm the one being baited though because I never seem to be able to get my hands on any.

I'd count sheep, but I can't find them either.
And the sandman doesn't get a warm welcome from those who wear contact lenses.

Just trust me.

Avec Moi

I've had moments where I reread things I've written and wonder at the way I sound.
Because I don't want to be viewed as someone who shouldn't be taken seriously.
I would like to be taken very seriously as a person. But not so seriously that I seem separate from the light, fun part of the world. This is all written in the manner that I think....And I think that the way people form thoughts is quite different from the way they speak. It's as though we protect our true identity {the thoughts} through speaking like those we associate with. Becoming part of a whole while disguising certain bits of our individuality. And this isn't always necessarily bad or wrong. Who says you should reveal everything about yourself to any and everyone. Why, that would be comparable to streaking, which, while generally viewed as inappropriate by the public, some find to be quite satisfactory. There is relevance to the complete disregard for social boundaries displayed by those who say whatever comes to mind. And if I am doing this via blog then I can't help but wonder...does this make me an occasional virtual verbal streaker?

Even if it does, and while I'm sure it can put me in a negative light, I don't regret it. I think that there's a certain freedom to it. I shouldn't be ashamed of the way I write and develop, just because others have progressed further or said less. So. I am content.

I Find Myself in Need of An Umbrella

It smells like rain. :)

I love it when it does that.

Looks like rain too.

I got my sandal clad feet wet in puddles on my way outside, and was perfectly okay with it.

Sometimes I just wish I could spend my entire life living in the spring.

I'm so much happier during the spring time. It's my very favorite season. Summer is nice and all, but spring time is just...beautiful. The beginning of it smells like hope and towards the end you're just happy it's here. Everything is turning from brown to green and it's like the world exhales all of the color it pulled back into hiding so as to provide an appropriate canvas for winter's white.

I am very ready to be immersed in a spring shower.

Bring on the rains.

Arthur and I

Ohhh myyyy gossshhhhhh.

{This is that moment where I throw myself back onto the bed with one arm over my eyes and the other hanging halfway off into the open space that meets with the edge of the mattress.}

I need to get out more.

Lately, I have spent wayyyy too much time inside.

But it's difficult to go places when you aren't {technically} allowed to drive and you are nervous to run or walk anywhere alone {just in case you happen to have a seizure on the way.}

I should just be rich and hire a butler to do my driving for me.

His name will probably be Arthur, and he'll be incredibly british. So British, in fact, that he won't be able to understand me unless I also speak in a British accent. We'll drive all over the place. My car is black, so I am pretty positive I don't need a paint job. Maybe tinted windows though. Just to fit the profile.

I'll probably need to stop wearing sweats everywhere. Because I'm sure that Arthur will wear a suit when we're out and about. Pearls are always a nice touch. I love pearls. That settles it. I'll just have to sport pearls. As well as sunglasses and a nice lipstick. Not necessarily red though. I'm fond of a good nude to peach tone. Maybe a bit of a brownish tint. And we'll go to art museums. I'll be curious and studious and always bring my sketch book along to draw in and document my musings. I bet I'll probably need a pair of nice gloves. Short ones, appropriate for daywear, to hide the grey evidence that tends to stain along the side of my right pinky and knuckles as well as my fingertips when I draw. Arthur will probably be rather strict concerning my new hypoglycemic dietary restrictions. He'll not be rude about it though. He's got that British class. The kind that makes you listen to what he says, even if you don't want to. We shall have to stop what we're doing at around three for tea time scheduled to happen nearly every day at precisely three fifteen. Arthur will be very well read, and we will discuss Shakespeare, Aristotle, Plato, Miss Austin, and various historic texts. Sometimes Arthur will sit in his spectacles and read whatever suits his fancy while waiting for me to finish up a painting in the park. Then he will chauffeur a particular young man and myself to a play or an opera. Of course, we will invite him along on occasion. After all, Arthur isn't just a butler, he's one of the family. Though of course, he has his own agenda at times. I'm pretty sure he moonlights as a member of Scotland Yard and works with the FBI on international cases. He's a bit of a hero that way....

Yes. I should definitely get a butler.

"She Needs To Sort Out Her Priorities."

~I love this. Recently I've been looking at lots of pieces that involve repurposing old texts by using them as backing for drawings and even one style of art that requires cutting out thousands of tiny individual letters and gluing them to form messages that create a picture.~

I'm going to be fully and bluntly honest {I'm good at that...sometimes I guess it offends people...But I never try to be offensive, because I am also a bit of a pacifist. A lot of a pacifist I suppose.} I am going to admit that both yesterday and today have been the kind of days where I sit in my room in only my underwear and do artsy things.

All. Day. Long.

Medical Leave allows for that. Yes, I am on medical leave at work. There are up sides and down sides, but I try to think only about the upward swing.

In the past week I have managed to watch Beauty and the Beast a lovely total of four times {this considered, I still am contemplating watching it a fifth time...probably today.} It is my very favorite Disney movie and is great comfort food for my brain. :)

I also drew a picture of Belle and Prince Adam {a.k.a. the Beast} kissing at the end right after he's turned human again. I love that. I just want to be Belle. She's great.

I have decided that, due to the fact that I have all of this extra time, generally spent alone and at my apartment {I am also not allowed to drive while on medical leave, due to the cause. [seizures] Making doing things away from home difficult} I should do things I enjoy that can also be productive and use materials I currently possess. Mostly because though it's a mandatory 3 month medical leave, it is unpaid.

And I need rent money to cover that time period.

Oyyy vey.

:)

It's all swell though, because I had savings and tax returns. Thank the heavens! :D

Anyhow, I made a nice shirt for myself yesterday. I like it.

I'd put up a picture, but I have no camera. Sad, but true.

I have also decided to bust out my paints and canvases and make lovely art for the walls of my home. I wish I could paint directly on the walls themselves, but sadly, that is strictly forbidden.

If I ever get a camera then I will put photos of my work up to give my blog a bit more personality. I'm still figuring out some of the mechanics, even though I should have it down by now. I am not very good technologically. I can jump start a car and drive stick shift though! :D

I want my apartment to be more beautiful than it currently is. I didn't really get much creative input when it came to decorating the place, truth be told. And my room mates, while lovely, have a rather different taste in decor than I do. Maybe they wouldn't mind if I got a bit of a say in things. I've been living here the longest out of the three of us anyways....huh. Now I'm just thinking through the keyboard.

A Quick Overview And A Relapse

I don't want to start with, "Where do I start..."

I've not been blogging. But I've been living.

I have been around, just not around here.

As of late I have been someone rather unexpected.

Sometimes you find that you are not at all the person you imagined you would be.

Not that that's a negative thing. Not at all. It's just interesting.

I feel as though the younger me is someone I knew years ago.

A childhood friend who I wonder about from time to time, hoping she's doing well.

I wonder what she's like now. Is she doing grand things with her life like she always said she would? Did she ever master the violin or get a horse? I hope she's doing well. Maybe if I run into her one day we could reconnect. I bet we'd be friends again. I'd like that.

I find my current self to be someone very different from that girl. Someone much more on her own than I ever really expected to be. Not that it's always the most necessary thing. But I've become accustomed to it. I now associate dependency with clipped wings or a trapped animal. I don't like feeling as though I require someone else to get by day to day. But that is exactly what I do need now. I've developed a certain number of traits {.exactly 2.} that require me to depend on an outside source for a certain level of survival. Both cause me to feel confused at times, and a bit wild. They make my sense of humour do funny little cartwheels, but also have made me more solid and grounded. One of the two causes me to shake and fall and I wouldn't be devastated at seeing the end of it. The other I would very sorely miss. It holds me steady and brings my focus. When that doesn't work and I hit the deck, it gives me motivation to ride out the storm and stand on my own two feet. I believe that, while both are much more current than the girl I used to be, with the help of an anchor I am finding my sea legs.