purge

packing up my house has been easier than i thought it’d be. i have donated and thrown away countless dozens of piles and bags. i’m amazed i cleared nine large garbage bags of clothes and still have three closets and a garment rack full of clothes. (they’re really small closets, OK?!) i’ve thrown away old, bent art. even things i might like but just don’t find joy in anymore. the massive purge of 2018. i feel so light.

i had a mini existential crisis a couple of weeks ago. all this introspection showed me how far i’ve come over the last six months. i have not quit moving forward. blogging lately is really the first time i’ve looked back and analyzed how much i have accomplished. i made up my mind and i got to today. a couple of weeks ago i regressed a little and thought about retreating. my mind is going through the process i discussed in my last blog. changing, learning new processes, adjusting to new. i believe there is a natural loneliness. a mourning process. a tiredness. maybe even a longing and a reaching for my old mentality. but i’ve ultimately found, it’s gone.

not lost, but altered. i cannot backtrack to that place. this is a beautiful thing. it took me talking to some of my mentors and meditating on my thoughts for a few days to gain a more well-rounded perspective. who wants to keep the same endless mentality? i’d be so bored without the challenge of learning and growing in each moment. in my case, i am so blessed. i look back, and there is a great deal of passion in my interests. following the signs, i look ahead and there is potential for beauty, meaning, and purpose overflowing. 

thinking back to what i wrote about changing from art to business major in college earlier this month, i gave it negative placement in my life. ultimately, it has shaped my ability to make wise art, business, and personal “adult” decisions (financial, etc.). i think it’s human nature to look back on the part of the choice one didn’t make, like not continuing the art courses, and wonder. i spend a lot of time wondering. i want to make the best choices. and i guess now that i have the peace to heal over more recent life events, i am looking even further back and forgiving regrets i didn’t even know i owned.

i owe so much to my college career. i think it was painful for me because the person closest to me was immersed in all the studio classes while i was sitting in business communications lectures, which made me very jealous. plus, university was one big competition for me against my high school mentor’s voice in my head, “anyone who stays in Albany will never graduate college in four years, or maybe ever.” i wanted to disprove that theory. and i did (no one noticing, but me). 

why is this so heavy on my mind now? i graduated from college eight years ago. it’s weird how the mind works……. maybe it’s because after all these years, i haven’t had a job i felt that my bachelor’s degree mattered until the career i have today. i sacrificed my passion, art, to complete a degree program. i got a great marketing internship, which let to all my career choices. i have had profitable and passionate careers, but this is the first time i feel like my education means something.

while i was packing and purging, i found my college diploma on the bookshelf at home just like any other book, and i brought it up to my office. i’m not looking back to regret what could have come from other roads, but looking forward to what opportunities i can cultivate through my hard work. there are so many days within years between college and today that are blurs of waste. i hope i can reach forward with purpose and focus. when i look back.

 

i’ll bite

or write, rather.

i’ve been seeing this thing i like where people are posting very stream of consciousness style and it took me back to a time i was reading a lot of faulkner and i am trying it. although i am already struggling in my mind to quit thinking about what audience i’m writing to and what my eventual message is going to be but the purpose of this is just a writing exercise and maybe also an exercise in vulnerability. if we are really being honest, i can never spell excersize correctly on the first try. i may even get crazy and forget some commas and add some s.pontaneo’us punct!uation, or maybe even write in one big run-on sentence to free myself of the ongoing grammar critique inside of me but anyway, i digress. i have not written in a while on my blog. i will visit my website and think about all the topics i might be able to conjure up a few paragraphs about. but then i wander away in thought thinking that wouldn’t even seem authentic in an age where everyone has a blog and is trying to be as raw, as fashionable, as healthy, as mommerific, as artsy, as creative, as barf me barf me barf me this is exactly why i cannot write about anything quite much at all because all the ideas are taken and how am i even unique? even this little exercize seems overly done “hey look at me i’m different…?”but really the reason i did pop in because i do think noting one’s thoughts is important. sometimes it seems a little weird posting a selfie but gosh i have been loving it lately. i remember when there was some intrigue, spontaneity…what is that word i am looking for? resist google. stretch your mind. think hard. keep resisting google. look out the window and don’t think about it for a second. synonyms…fine, i will google it: ANTICIPATION in even seeing your selfies because you were taking them with a disposable camera and even 24-hour pickup was a novelty. so be cynical all i want to about the age of oversharing and noses stuck in phones but it really is a ‘thing” to be experiencing to a certain degree. after all, we are here in this culture and simply by reacting whether participating, criticizing or observing we are creating a very distinct and necessary point of view for posterity. and as for me. me me me me me. i will partake. why not? i regret way more that i didn’t say in the grand scheme of things and john mayer said to say what you need to say and i will listen to pretty much anything that he says in the key of G. so today i am writing as vayda lays here next to me in the bed. lays lies is laying is lying? i never honestly know but at this point i am not tabbing over to google. i know, you don’t care about me thinking about my grammatical errors, but that’s about 25% of my waking thoughts so they must be included for sheer intellectual honesty. so we are lyyyyyyying here and i feel bad that my baby doesn’t sleep in her own bed. that she has only slept in the beautiful babys dream crib my mom bought her for an hour and fifteen minutes of her whole life. thank goodness its crib to college because i could have bigger things to worry about i mean really you can figuratively spit on me that i am actually worrying about where my child sleeps because she is sleeping and there i go judging myself for caring about the pettiness of my life because it really is an easy, good one and no one cares except you. but anyway i care and i pay for this website and when i started it ten years ago it was just a place to pour my thoughts into an anonymous black hole of eyes that hear with different ears that may never even tell me they see me but i find comfort in knowing they’re around. it’s like writing a letter that drowns in a bottle or a thousand notes and poems and words in a box about you that you or no one will ever completely decipher correctly. see, i enjoy laying here next to vayda every time she naps. i do need a night a week that i don’t go to bed at nine o’clock p.m. but on nights like last night when i sleep ’til 7a.m. and accidentally fall back asleep until noon, i’m able to think in complete quiet besides the soft hum of the fan and the choir of summer birds chirping just behind the bricks that surround us. i’m able to think and reflect and connect instances from today with memories from earlier today or last year or two decades ago if it’s a really lucky day and if i can’t connect them and they seem slightly notable i can record them to be redeemed at a time when i need them. and that is beautiful – that incredibly existential moment when something you’ve kept inside for days, weeks, years all the sudden comes to fruition and makes all the sense it never seemed to could before. all these stories and moments that are individually mine, those are my treasures comma splice. not this blog or your blog that’s popular for a minute or has a lot of followers because of your theme that’s cool and all but it’s mostly about you about me about us our connections our moments our memories and how other people share and relate. so i lie here with vayda gazing out the window thinking about how bright this life really is. how the most ear-piercing noise in this room is your breath moving in and out of your nose in the most peaceful utterly heartmelting way and how i know this moment is fleeting by as i waste time to type some my-mother-is-a-fishy brain vomit as mr. davis coined it, i suppose. but how could i not take just a couple of minutes to be silly and remember the nuances of such a seemingly insignificant moment in the neverending hours inside our familiar four walls? see everything is a circle to me and i look at this circular A monogram that hangs from our window and creates this beautiful monochromatic thing that i stare at as i wonder and doze and begin to dream, probably because it’s all black and white as they say dreams are but i swear i dream in colortechnicolor and everything is a circle. one big circle we all rotate on and our cycles of moods our cycles of habits social circles (need i go on with illustrations) and an astute observer can pick up on them all just by listening to stories and possessing the proper amount of empathy. and i hula hoop in my circle and i can move and work to make my circle bigger and hold maybe your circle inside my circle. i would do that for you, or at least move my circle to rotate at just the right axis that our circles often overlap or maybe we miraculously mirror each other in size and shape and maybe we warp the same way for a time or forever or orbit apart accidentally or excruciatingly but that is just life. if design govern in a thing so small, or could robert frost be right in proposing all those white things sitting there so perfectly kept for the ultimate plot? i didnt even have to google that because it’s one of my favorites other than the discerning eye by emily and everything by ee cummings of course i love writing like this because segueways aren’t necessary how freeing how nonsequitor i see why the teenagers aren’t using punctuation now.  see, i’d write more letters like i used to but mama always told me never to write something down unless you’re prepared for someone to keep it forever. so i end up doing this dance where sometimes i only keep it all in my mind and don’t even write in my journal but what’s the point of being so restrained? why not say something stupid on facebook or share a little meaningless selfie or create something i’m not totally sure i’d even qualify as art? why not? i guess in the end there is a great balance found in doing that dance. to find the great charm, the great interesting mystery in waltzing between vulnerability and restraint but then i guess when i listen to the hamilton soundtrack when v is playing i get really excited to share even this without reading it three times in a row and correcting typos or expounding upon sentences that may have incomplete thought. i will post it just the way it is and pretend i am the girl from awkward. on mtv i wish that show wasnt over because i watched every episode and vayda didnt wake up this whole time

OK, and i know for sure it is OK not being rude all caps but grammatically correct it is OK not o.k. or O.K. or okay or Okay, but OK i did read it over once and i didn’t take anything out but i really wanted to backspace the word comma slice since it isn’t a comma splice but i kept it there to enjoy the irony later on when i read this again when i’m bored or old or never

losing friends

i was looking back in my e-mail for an old logo, and i found pictures of cole. i had searched for them for months on my phone and computer files when he passed away in 2008, and i couldn’t find them. i beat myself up for so long thinking i had deleted them. i nearly passed out upon seeing them today. i will treasure them as long as i can keep them.

it’s funny how things become like little idols once someone is no longer present. how words become vow. how we squint to keep fuzzy memories. a note, a photo, a present, a movie ticket becomes a treasure. when cole died, when wesley died, when my grandparents died–when i broke up with K & J years ago, i realized the fragility of relationships. the linear nature of time made me grow to expect you and maybe even resent you each day, but the separation of time from your presence made me appreciate and possibly even idolize you.

right before hospice came into their house, meme told me to watch cartoons, because it would keep my heart feeling light when things were dark. i’ll catch myself whistling like my papa or getting a little excited when i see a gray headed man riding a wal-mart cart. it makes me smile to see mcdonald’s stickers for all the times dada wanted to but never got to take me on saturday mornings when i was a kid. when i see boys riding on lawn mowers like the last time i saw cole riding one against the sun a few days before the accident. when i see a scary movie or a brown haired boy picking on a girl as they walk down the neighborhood street, i think of wesley and me.

and when i look out at the water, a little to the right, i see that dock. i’ve only sat on it once. as ridiculous as it truly is, it’s one of the reasons i moved here. it wasn’t that it was you, though you are still the most significant relationship i’ve ever had. it was the hope in that moment that we looked at the stars subsequent to that eloquently-prosed, misspelled letter you gave me. one of the most romantic moments of my life. i was so young at heart, and you were not–and that is why we said goodbye. we were friends for years prior to being a we and an us, and i remember our hesitation to make a romance out of such a great thing. you made me feel beautiful and worthy and secure and understood. it took time that you were willing to take. but i often wonder if i would give back everything that you gave me, all of the hopes and expectations for someone similar to you but one who led in Christ and supported my need to be a dreamer. if i would give it all up and reverse it all just to have the friendship back. just because the chemistry is there, should you pursue it? i can count on one hand the number of romantic relationships i’ve had. one of them was a bad idea. one of them was a not-so-serious rebound, two of them changed me for good though they were hard to lose, and one i’m not certain of the effect/outcome yet.

i don’t want fleeting relationships and friendships. i don’t want bitterness and loss. i don’t make friends or start relationships because i need someone. i’m used to being alone. losing my family, cole and wesley through death were hard things to conquer in my soul. losing friends through arguments and “endings” is so tiringly pointless having experienced such close irreversible loss in life. having lost a few significant relationships and friendships both irreversible and not so irreversible, i’ve found solace in discovering that they’re never really lost. the material things like photos and the sweet little words are precious reminders, but as long as i’m alive–“there is no was,” as i have said before.

the people i have carefully chosen to pursue good relationships/friendships with, i will carry them with me throughout my life with confidence. how they treated me in bright times and how they treated me in dark times will affect me as i walk through my life. it’s never over until i’m over. i allowed you into my life and my heart, and pieces of you will stay–it’s inevitable.

broken hopes and reels of memories are impossible to pack into a suitcase and carry around as baggage, so i learned early in friendship to accept and appreciate the impact of people on my life no matter their coming or going. it made it easier to forgive. it makes it easier to love someone now not making an enemy of my past. it makes it easier to appreciate the past relationships of people in my life, because i know even if they try to hide and avoid it–they have ultimately been affected by their past.

the hardest part about all of it is that i hate that your presence is not present. if i thought enough of you to choose you, then your friendship was ultra-valuable. i want it in my life. though my non-linear concept of time is unconventional, i wish others were spontaneous enough to see the value of it. can we not forget the ending and remember what we appreciated about each other? can a friend forgive a friend for an offense and remember why they bonded to begin with? what good comes of the timebetween after clarity and healing? awkwardness and loss? the unnecessary duo that preceeds pride and stubborness in the issues of people ’round the globe.

when i leave the world, i hope everyone i’ve known well enough will well-enough know that i had the humility to right a wrong with them and the honesty to let them know how i truly cared about them. i can’t force anyone to be my friend, but if i think you’re worth it i will at least try to convince you.

“what lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”

(edit)“what you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say.”

i brought my blue pillow in from the car.
i put my car key back on the key ring with the rest of the keys.
i washed my hair for the first time since before taco dinner with you.
i put the blue-rimmed plate in the cabinet and the gray jacket in the closet.
i’ve decided to sleep in my bed tonight for the first time since two saturdays ago.

a dance routine in the shower
blonde child says i love you
shadow of sweet disposition from behind as fingers paint
hero sails lake to back door
telling secrets on the living room floor
henry from under the bed into the lap
a blown up glove create a smile
adventure upstairs in old buildings
a crappy sandwich, bad pizza, delicious pots and pans made with care
living room better than bar
careful to speak except once mistake
prise revoked for bad behavior
a hand-written note on calendar seen
toothbrush in the holder
perdy girl phadooklet
playground fights not new mom fatherinlaw
dirt bikes couch crashes
sleep on made bed so funny like
movies didn’t see, swamp gravy vacations planned already
almost elton john kiss in car savannah
you can’t stop the hairspray in my ice cream sunday afternoon lunch (sun pouring in three windows, can on my dresser, wrapped up in a blanket and mixed up.dontleave)
the runaway dance
salmon shorts
zombies just to sit on the couch with
clumsy kiss at the door
hot when sleeping
squeeze my hand to death
goodbye for work think of all day
half smile pretty mouth
giggle at work storararies
look with eyes taller sparkle care remember feel like good keep
hide excitement when i see
please don’t let the forget of time steal little feels as these appreciated. hold these long as the mind will keep. please. happy was here for em ee. wont forget. wont. don’t want to won’t. silence change not memory.

[i wrote brian’s brutal analysis of the situation here, but i just don’t think it’s true so i erased it earlier.
i would still like to think the best of you. i appreciate all of the wonderful ways you were treating me
and i hope it was genuine and not all for play like he said.
even though your reaction is mean and unforgiving and silent. like a dang taylor swift song.
i will keep it for myself and mull over it instead of posting it here.
just doesn’t seem right.]