the title of this blog is not only the title of one of my current fave songs (kt tunstall rules, check her out) but it is also the perfect summation of how i feel. suddenly, i get it. or at least i get something. i get why i really want to take it slow with some one, to stop being so physical with guys, why the risk of loving someone is worth it.
i have had an absolutely amazing three days. late night walks and talks, summer romance on the grass, experiencing feelings i've never felt before. talking with strangers who make macreme in the subway station, and playing with little puppies. devouring books about art therapy with zest and motivation, and absolutely, 100% being in love with the place i live and the people i know here. and best of all, laying it all out there, being completely honest and having someone be completely honest with me, meeting someone i can be my whole crazy self around, and they actually find it adorable. to record the feelings, images, and conversations of the last three days would take forever, but the way i feel after them can be put very simply: suddenly, i see.
art can be said to be -- and can be used as -- the externalized map of our interior self. peter london
art is the meeting ground of the world inside and the world outside. elinor ulman
to paint what we see before us is a different art than painting what we see within us. carl jung
art is a way of knowing what we actually believe. pat b. allen
how do i show
all the love
inside my heart
well this is all new
and i'm feeling my way through the dark kt tunstall
suddenly i see
this is who i wanna be
suddenly i see
why the hell it means so much to me kt tunstall
8.08.2006
8.02.2006
when you least expect it
i love boston because of the people i meet here. tonight, after an exhausting shift full of more "my life is hopeless" conversations with teenagers (i think i've had one of those with almost all of the kids at my school in the last few weeks)i settled onto my familiar bench in my familiar bus station in harvard square, to wait for my familiar bus. as usual, i am too tired to read from my "introduction to therapeutic counseling" textbook, too tired to do anything else but slouch and wait for my bus. like many other nights, a guy came and sat next to me. but this guy was different.
we started talking because he thought he smashed his new CD when he sat down, and i was being my polite, friendly, oregonian self and helping him assess the damage. suddenly we were like old friends, chatting and laughing, the words coming easily. i forgot that i was waiting for the bus, forgot that i hadn't known this guy five minutes before. i told i really wanted a bike but i was too poor so i needed a free one and i didn't care what kind it was or what it looked like as long as it was functional. we got on the bus together, still chatting, and he sat down near me and said, "i'm going to find you a bike."
"come sit by me," i said, because it was ridiculous to pretend that we didn't want to be sitting together, talking. so he did. and he asked me the question he asks every one he meets from oregon, something about walking by rivers and finding turquoise. i asked if he had a question for people from every state and he said he thought he did, and i said, "ohio." and sure enough, he had a question and a great, quirky story to go with it. he was asking me to meet him for coffee before he was asking my name, and we shook hands.
"my stop is coming up" i said, and he said, "so is mine." and then we discovered we had the same stop (he said his first, so that elevated my fears of creepiness) and we both laughed because this whole thing was just so crazy, and we got off the bus together and talked and laughed and gave each other nicknames even though we'd just met. and we exchanged numbers and made plans to go see the band who's CD he thought he'd broken when he sat down next to me in the first place.
"wicked nice meeting you" he said, in true boston fashion. "i'm going to find you a bike, liz."
i walked down my street, trying to figure out if i was awake or dreaming. who knows, maybe he's crazy, or gay, or an atheist, but he's super fun and our meeting was so serendipitous. things like this don't happen every day, or every year for that matter. at the very least, it's certainly worth documenting. and at the most? we shall see.
we started talking because he thought he smashed his new CD when he sat down, and i was being my polite, friendly, oregonian self and helping him assess the damage. suddenly we were like old friends, chatting and laughing, the words coming easily. i forgot that i was waiting for the bus, forgot that i hadn't known this guy five minutes before. i told i really wanted a bike but i was too poor so i needed a free one and i didn't care what kind it was or what it looked like as long as it was functional. we got on the bus together, still chatting, and he sat down near me and said, "i'm going to find you a bike."
"come sit by me," i said, because it was ridiculous to pretend that we didn't want to be sitting together, talking. so he did. and he asked me the question he asks every one he meets from oregon, something about walking by rivers and finding turquoise. i asked if he had a question for people from every state and he said he thought he did, and i said, "ohio." and sure enough, he had a question and a great, quirky story to go with it. he was asking me to meet him for coffee before he was asking my name, and we shook hands.
"my stop is coming up" i said, and he said, "so is mine." and then we discovered we had the same stop (he said his first, so that elevated my fears of creepiness) and we both laughed because this whole thing was just so crazy, and we got off the bus together and talked and laughed and gave each other nicknames even though we'd just met. and we exchanged numbers and made plans to go see the band who's CD he thought he'd broken when he sat down next to me in the first place.
"wicked nice meeting you" he said, in true boston fashion. "i'm going to find you a bike, liz."
i walked down my street, trying to figure out if i was awake or dreaming. who knows, maybe he's crazy, or gay, or an atheist, but he's super fun and our meeting was so serendipitous. things like this don't happen every day, or every year for that matter. at the very least, it's certainly worth documenting. and at the most? we shall see.
8.01.2006
for kari
kari needs something to read, so here goes. i will say, i would love to read something new on kari's blog as well...
sometimes my life really does feel like a tv show. like when i get into a staged bar brawl and end up meeting a hot guy who actually calls me and actually takes me out on a real date. or when my housing situation turns into a total nightmare and i lose two third roomates named sara(h) and i finally find a place with my third third roomate but i lose my dream apartment in the process and end up spewing all my frustrations onto the poor workers at the apartment rental office in a very candid and almost rude way. or (and this is the best one) when i spend all my free time playing scrabble with my friend dan and then my friend sarah asks me if i want this giant scrabble rug with giant scrabble pieces that you can actually play on and i say "yes, yes, oh my goodness, i cant wait to show danny!"
my amazing friend sarah is letting me borrow this amazing book called the art of looking sideways. here are some lovelies i have found in it's pages...
i work with things left over from other things. (julian schnabel) this is so my new artist's statement.
an idea isn't responsible for the people who believe in it. (don marquis) hmmm...
question: where do you get your ideas?
answer: i don't. they get me!
the person you love is 72.8% water. i guess that means i love water.
the negative is the score but the print is the performance. (ansel adams) i love photography.
there are many more lovelies in the book but it is heavy and my first engagement of the day is calling. i guess that means i have to get out of bed, which is sad and tragic. i guess that also means i have to change out of my new pink pajama pants with little puppies dressed in cute little outfits all over them, which is also tragic. why can't i go out in public like this? soon i will have a puppy! i cant wait.
sometimes my life really does feel like a tv show. like when i get into a staged bar brawl and end up meeting a hot guy who actually calls me and actually takes me out on a real date. or when my housing situation turns into a total nightmare and i lose two third roomates named sara(h) and i finally find a place with my third third roomate but i lose my dream apartment in the process and end up spewing all my frustrations onto the poor workers at the apartment rental office in a very candid and almost rude way. or (and this is the best one) when i spend all my free time playing scrabble with my friend dan and then my friend sarah asks me if i want this giant scrabble rug with giant scrabble pieces that you can actually play on and i say "yes, yes, oh my goodness, i cant wait to show danny!"
my amazing friend sarah is letting me borrow this amazing book called the art of looking sideways. here are some lovelies i have found in it's pages...
i work with things left over from other things. (julian schnabel) this is so my new artist's statement.
an idea isn't responsible for the people who believe in it. (don marquis) hmmm...
question: where do you get your ideas?
answer: i don't. they get me!
the person you love is 72.8% water. i guess that means i love water.
the negative is the score but the print is the performance. (ansel adams) i love photography.
there are many more lovelies in the book but it is heavy and my first engagement of the day is calling. i guess that means i have to get out of bed, which is sad and tragic. i guess that also means i have to change out of my new pink pajama pants with little puppies dressed in cute little outfits all over them, which is also tragic. why can't i go out in public like this? soon i will have a puppy! i cant wait.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
