but the morning light is only the first line in the play of this day

hello/goodbye
catching up with friends. today, i saw Y. an old friend who traveled with me through Guatemala. I don't get to see her often, but when i do, i always feel so lucky to have her in my life. her heart is always in the right place.

excited yet?
the short move to ny is slowly starting to seep in. my excitement is always, always delayed. i have also always been very cautious about my excitement that may revolve around the idea of expectations and disappointments. all new travels are accompanied by amazing growth, new experiences, tremendous adventures, yet i know myself enough to know that my solitary travels are always chaperoned by shards of stress, loneliness and at times extreme doubt. I invite it. i invite this- i am just cautious, as to prepare myself for my manic tendencies. no matter how short the trip, no matter how prepared you are- traveling alone never gets easier, but you also can never quite quit the addiction. Six years earlier, I associated moving as a means to starting over, brand new. I've since learned that its impossible to leave old scars behind. No matter where you are or where you go, things just don't disappear when you leave them behind. it follows you and follows you and follows you. but that was six years ago. today, i'm ready to tackle on the new.

ruminating
lots of personal projects. i can't wait to get them started.

tomorrow
i bask in the sweltering sun of palm springs before flying east.

another pretty poem by billy collins "the only day in existence"
the early sun is so pale and shadowy,
i could be looking up at a ghost
in the shape of a window,
a tall, rectangular spirit
looking down at me in bed,
about to demand that i avenge
the murder of my father.
but the morning light is only the first line
in the play of this day--
the only day in existence--
the opening chord of its long song,
or think of what is permeating
the thin bedroom curtains

as the beginning of a lecture
i will listen to until it is dark,
a curious student in a v-neck sweater,
angled into the wooden chair of his life,
ready with notebook and a chewed-up pencil,
quiet as a goldfish in winter,
serious as a compass at sea,
eager to absorb whatever lesson
this damp, overcast Tuesday
has to teach me
here in the spacious classroom of the world
with its long walls of glass,
its heavy, low-hung ceiling

it will waste away. to nothing, nothing but stars in the sky

time's a wastin'
I want to hoard all the greatness and all the experiences, and gather them into a big pile and call it all mine.

gardening
today in the hot hot hot heat

hey! what are you doing here? just listening

sunday.
a late insead lunch at saladang to say goodbye to O & T. So happy for them- as they start the new phase of their life, but sad they're leaving. its strange that so much of our lives and friendship is based on location and distance.

its late
and im baking peanut butter cookies. i like baking because theres a beginning and an end. either the food is good or bad. i like the decisiveness of baking. wish life was more like that.

We know it's wrong to let this fire burn between us

saturday morning
making a peach crumble.

She waited for the train to pass.

hello friday
i waited for you friday, for a long time. now that you're here. its a bit bittersweet.

morning
fresh blueberry muffins & coffee. smells great in the house. when i can get myself to wake up early, i really enjoy mornings. the dew and the sun slowly rising.

term ended
always so hard to leave the faces that i've just come back too. it was good spending time with old friends, and also the new ones i've made along the way this term. goodbye again.

we were ready for anything

Mother, the movie
the most beautiful opening sequence ever. wish i can take a sliver of the movie, put it into a box, and save it forever.

and in your heart let the blind knot loosen and fly

my hands
are rough and dry from all the sanding I did this week. not light, leisure sanding. but hardcore primer sanding lasting a long 9 hour stretch. this has happened repeatedly for the last couple days. there are still bumps, and it is driving me mad.

crazy week 13/14

today
its my dad's birthday! so i will be sticking around home to do some 2D presentation and process book work and heading out to lunch with the family. Driving to school around 3-4am to do some more sanding, when the school is more bearable- and silence has crept into areas where the tired has gone to sleep.

always
I can always think of a million personal projects to work on when i'm the most busiest. I need to start a list.

last night
i dreamt of H

it is never too late to start again

hi saturday

bored of all things too design-y. looking for frankness, fun and freshness.

Clementine and the Cyber Ducks
A play I found online. I like the description of the characters

Clementine: Imminently lost and gone forever- But not yet.
Brian: A good guy. With too many ideas. Optimistic to the point of negligence. He lives in his parent's basement. He escapes the small tragedies by inserting himself into a large one.