Frustration in Black and White

This is the black and white concept for my collage project.
I decided to focus on the idea of a frustration with technology, which is ironic because most of that frustration burgeoned from the digital design class itself. Tinkering, constant tinkering, it never felt quite right. The outcome was never worth the effort and the motions would be convoluted to the point where I was almost thankful my Photoshop shut down. Frustration, with more than just technology. More than the endless updates, the amassing of unread messages, the repetition, more than the dwindling attention spans and the repetition.

I'm not sure what they say your life is supposed to be like after you've graduated college, but to me it seems like a lot of frustration. Maybe frustration is not a perfect word, perhaps paralysis is more apt. I feel like a computer that has frozen, unsatisfied with my last action but unable to move forward. It's a time of uns, a time of compromise when I feel like I should be building up the foundations of a good life. Each decision is seemingly weighted like an anchor to my future. People keep telling me I have a lot of time left to find where I belong, but that is not a consoling thought. To me, time seems to be growing exponentially smaller, as if you could mark it on a ruler until I only have an eighth of an inch of time left.

The phrase "trust the process" comes to mind. It's hard not to look at everything as a mistake, but rather as an exploration. Taking the digital design class was not easy and ultimately wasn't something I decided to pursue, but I took the chance. I think maybe this time in my life just takes some bravery (and a lot of Trader Joe's wine).

Wednesday Night in the Kitchen

 

  

Tomato, love, I've missed you. Come back into my summery arms and we'll make caprese salads until the leaves begin to fall.

Tecate, Señore, one is never enough.

And you! You arduous bastards, you cashew cookie scoundrels, you took me all night to make (but I like you, oh I do).

The Hirshhorn Couch

Before I let things slip away from me, there is something really important I want to tell you.

On the top floor of the Hirshhorn Museum, there is a couch next to the room with all naked ladies with abstract boobs. It is black, it is leather, you sink deep into its plush expanse-elbows perfectly propped-and you have a crowning view of downtown DC. I suggest you go and have yourself a sit. While you're there you should also check out the string and light art.

Apparently people do not appreciate my self-deprecating humor, so I can't mask my scant comprehension of art or my lack of interest in googling the names of the exhibits-but obviously I can use a thesaurus (lack of=scant and knowledge=comprehension). Girl has got to prioritize when she is already dedicating 40% of her brain space to why they killed that wolf dog on Game of Thrones and another 10% to art of dick pics.

sometimes i get really really really nervous that nothing else is going to mean as much to me

when it's all over (which it really is and has been for nearly FOUR YEARS. now it's like we are separated, just biding our time until the divorce is finalized. okay actually some movie were pretty good.) when it's all over i'll probably shuffle around this earth, never able to finish a book or make real friends. all castles will be hogwarts, all owls will be courriers. so get your time in while you can, i guess. i'm usually free on tuesdays.

The Projects

So I took a class this spring. Documentation of my whining about how time consuming it was can be found on this blog. Now, however, I find myself missing the busy/tiring/frustrating monday/tuesday/wednesdays.

I mean, I'm sitting here on a Thursday drinking a bottle of prosecco and eating potato salad to avoid cleaning up the plaster dust that is currently coating my entire room like a thin layer of powdered sugar. The only reason I'm not watching Netflix is because I've already watched everything I wanted and I'm too lazy to search for new stuff. Dark times my friends.

But back to my class. We completed two projects, the second of which was a collage. We were to come up with two concepts based on a list of words; one was to be in black and white and the other in color. For my color concept I chose the words "existence" and "reality".

That's Lauren sleeping. Obviously it's a little more playful than you would imagine based on my word choice. I wanted to do a dream sequence because I honestly have the craziest dreams and I'm sure I've forced most of you to listen to my painstaking descriptions and analysis at least once. It was a lot of fun talking to people about dream images (Drew-chicken eggs with moths inside them, Alli-a dinosaur eating a dragon). I couldn't decide if I should keep or ditch the mountains until the very end, but everyone in my class suggested I keep them. It should be noted that everyone had also drank quite a bit of wine by that point, but isn't it kind of nice to picture yourself soaring over mountains while you sleep?

Aw You Guyz Part II: The Future has an Ancient Heart

Today I saw a girl, maybe 7 or 8 years old, with braids in her hair and a poster board bigger than her younger brother.  I felt her excitement-the excitement of standing up in front of the class with my braids, the excitement of the summer and running around barefoot, even the excitement to go to school that day. It made me sad to be a grown up with all of our doleful grown up troubles and worries. In that moment I considered being a teacher, if only to stay young at heart. I have contemplated teaching many times, as I'm sure all English majors do, but I especially find teaching enchanting because I see first hand how much my sister loves her kids and how they love her in return and what a simple joy that brings her.

When I was young, very young, I wanted to be a marine biologist. I wanted to be a marine biologist for two primary reasons. The first was because my best friend Beth wanted to be an astronaut and had found an astronaut school in Florida. I was sure that was the perfect place to be a marine biologist, even if it was a little far from Disney World. We planned to live together and eat pop tarts for breakfast and salisbury steak for lunch and dinner every day, or whatever kids imagine adults to do. The second reason was that I was excellent at drawing dolphins and it's important to be able to doodle what you love all over your notebooks.

Since then I've wanted to be an actor, journalist, children's book writer and professional reader and if anyone knows if professional reader is an actual job, please let me know. My point is that I've never had any sort of path that bellows and squawks for me to take it. The tone of jealousy I set in my last post about Lauren's graduation runs much deeper than an iPad. But jealousy isn't quite the right word. Jealousy implies I want what she has and for her not to have it, but that is hardly the case.

Recently I read a graduation speech that defines what Lauren has and what you have and what I have, but what I have (and maybe you have) yet to find out.

"There’s a line by the Italian writer Carlo Levi that I think is apt here: 'The future has an ancient heart.' I love it because it expresses with such grace and economy what is certainly true—that who we become is born of who we most primitively are; that we both know and cannot possibly know what it is we’ve yet to make manifest in our lives."

When Lauren was young, very young, she set up a blackboard and desk in the corner of our room. She would mostly teach Teddy but I believe a few neighbors got roped into taking tests at that desk. There's been no ambiguity about Lauren growing up to teach young kids. Even on the longest days of student teaching and babysitting and school and work, she'd come home exhausted and a little pink in the cheeks, but also with a cache of adorable stories about her kids. I'm very happy for Lauren, the kids deserve her. I hope everyone finds what they knew they'd always do, if only so y'all wouldn't be so grumpy on Mondays.