Practicing whimsy and failing but that’s ok too

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booty love ok

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I have to admit, since I was 10, I’ve seen myself in the mirror as a long list of things that need improvement or should be better, but that’s some bullshit ok. People can stick their unsolicited comments/opinions about my body up their asses (excuse me) while I go ahead and worship mine (my ass, that is).

Break from school, full time creative.

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For as long as I’ve been in school, I have lived for the breaks.

There is something about school that sucks the life out of me. Not to be melodramatic, but it takes my soul and squishes it into maybe the tiniest little grey box that you have ever imagined. And like, this box isn’t even recyclable – it’s just the worst box ever. As a college student, I live in that box for about 9 months of the year. (Shit… I’m taking summer classes this year too…this is gonna be an 11-monther, dammit.)

But then the breaks.

Oh my god the breaks.

At my old college, a break was nothing more than an average (extremely stressful) school week, only you don’t go to classes. But big university life comes with breaks that actually mean something – a break.

And I lose my mind in the best way.

It doesn’t matter how long the break is, the second I am out of school and have had a few hours to regain my energy and temporarily yank back the soul that academics had been crushing in that tiny grey box, I am flooded with ideas. Thoughts, visions, sounds, projects, endeavors, life goals, to-do lists, flood into my mind, and none of them wait their turn.

But I adore this part of my brain that is just a little crazy. Because for 9 (or 11) months out of the year, I have to scold my crazy, tell my crazy to shut up and write a serious paper or study for a serious test, or do something meaningless and mind numbing and soul-boxing. But then a break comes, and I let my crazy be free. And there are a lot of things that I don’t like about myself, but I do love to watch myself just happen. Because that’s my natural state – creating. And when I’m in this zone, it doesn’t matter what thought or vision or sound or project or endeavor or life goal or to-do list it is – it’s going to be meaningful, somehow in some way, and things with meaning are beautiful.

So this break, I have: planted an entire indoor vegetable and herb garden, drawn a bunch of shit for my art class (the one class that didn’t actually have any assigned work for the break, whoops), written almost 20 pages of free verse poetry, written one short story, experimented with acrylic painting, shot and edited an entire video that I think is pretty sweet, listened to a bunch of inspiring podcasts, put together some freaking killer outfits, tried to put a ton of weird stuff in the coffee maker (but don’t worry – it was so good!), started a serious collection of ideas to pursue out of college in regards to living a life I can love, and also begun to name the first few spinach sprouts that have popped up in the last week (I named the first one Ireland). I have done absolutely homework, but I don’t really give much of a fuck because I feel great. 

This is me at my happiest, taking care of myself by letting myself happen.

 

*walks back like nothing happened*

You know it’s been a while since you posted something when the settings have changed on ya. Lol oops!! But here’s the thing, the semester started picking back up and my mind was otherwise engaged, so this kind of fell off on the wayside. And I’m taking an art class!! Woo! So I guess my artistic energy has been directed on that class a lil more than on  this, this, what is this, hobby art?? idk, buuut I am sorry to the..like.. two or three of y’all who follow haha 😘😘kisses kisses

Drew this a little while ago. Not too much context to give here really, I was just kind of practicing using different features of my tablet/drawing software. Anyway, hello again! Happy March! And I can’t promise a super regular drawing or post from here on until about May, but I will try my best! Again, kisses kisses! haha 😘

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Listening to: Shake It (Metro Station)

{The only kind of middle school throwback I’m willing to engage in is the musical kind.}

 

 

Living and Learning and Loving and Growing

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I know you’ll never see this, so it’s safe for me to say that I miss you sometimes.

These days, more often than not, it’s more like I just really wonder how you’re doing. How life’s treating you and how you’re treating it. Have things gotten better for you? How is your family? How do you feel? Are you happy?

But I don’t stay with these thoughts for too long. Before, I couldn’t help it. But now I can. So I don’t.

I see almost every day the lasting effect you had on me. I’m not saying there weren’t good, beautiful moments in our time together, but they were always in between some big blow out, some big scandal, or some thoughtless action. And now I haven’t spoken to you in months or seen you in person in almost a year, but you’re still with me in little things. Little big things. Like how I look at myself in the mirror. My appearance, my weight, all of it.

Yesterday I was driving on the interstate when I had what was very similar to a heart attack. My heart beat was uncontrollable, my eyes felt like they were dilated, my ears felt tingly and my head felt airy, my hands were shaking pretty badly and my legs started to feel strange too. There was a moment that I definitely had the thought, “Should I be calling 911?” It was terrifying, and it lasted on and off for over an hour.

When I finally got to my destination, the woman I was going to see dropped everything to take care of me, to reassure me, to calm me down. We had a long conversation about what was happening, why it was happening, and it didn’t take long for me to start crying.

I’m going to jump to the point. My heart went crazy because of these pills I started taking. I started taking the pills for a number of reasons, but I bet you more than anything, you were somewhere down there at the root. You, your standards, the lies you thought it’d be okay to build my trust on, and the way I felt like I’d never be enough for you no matter how much you told me I would be.

And it’s not worth a heart attack. It’s not worth that fear.

So I still love you, a lot, because apparently I can’t help that, and there is a lot in you to love. Honestly. So I hope you’re doing well. I hope you’re living and learning and loving and growing like I have in the last 5 months, but I think I’m going to spend a little less time hoping that you’re okay and a little more time making sure that I am.

If we meet again in the future, maybe you’re right about this Kismet thing. But kismet or not, I’m going to love myself first. Nothing is going to get in the way of that.

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Jessica Day IRL

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I found real life Jessica Day. And she’s my Elements of Art teacher. The quote that gave me hope, “Fun fact, it took me 8 years to graduate from undergrad.”

That little tid-bit gave me so much comfort. First, if she can survive 8 years, and even then still pursue a masters, then I can survive the next year and a half. Second, hell yes, I love it when people interfere with our rigid social expectations of what “education” and “work” should be. It’s people like her that make it easier for younger people in the future to pursue what’s right for them, not simply what’s prescribed by others.