a bit sketchy

I was going through some of my old sketch books and my work from an art class. There are only three faces that I found. All the rest of the sketches are missing just the faces. Occasionally I left out the hands too, but usually they are drawn in very strategically. The faces are just obviously missing. The three that I did attempt to sketch are a) required for the class project to be considered complete, and b) one time I was feeling overly ambitious. At first I was thinking there was a link between myself being faceless in my dreams and the sketches (one of my BFF's probably doing the same thing and bringing a lot more educational information on the topic to the table)... Then I realized, maybe it's really the simple answer that's the right one. Faces are hard to draw.

memory associations: fitted sheets

Every time I fold a fitted bed sheet, I remember my cousin coming to my dorm to tell me how her first work study shift in the laundry went. She was glowing when she told me, "and [the boss] was so glad to have me there since I was the only one who actually knew how to fold a fitted sheet!" I didn't mention that I had no idea how to fold a fitted sheet, at the time...







curious? youtube link fitted sheet folding demo I found HERE

Dream: the one where i can only see the side of my face (don't ask me to make sense of this one)

Last night I dreamed:
   I was minding my own business, living in an old two-story farm house out in a sage covered desert, when I was pressed into service being undercover in a local women's detention/community service facility. Exactly. CONFUSING. Apparently it was just up the road from my place. As part of the agreement, they'd sneak in my degree and graduation picture I was expecting from completing my masters, as I would miss the graduation ceremony.
   Time jumps forward, I've been there a while, but haven't found whoever/whatever I was sent there for. However, I have become good friends with a small group and am struggling with guilt at not being who they think I am. There's some sort of event for the whole facility and we all are dressing up, doing hair and make-up. My graduation picture arrives with my degree and I notice that they've put me into the picture just like the picture from my BA, the only difference is the color is royal blue rather than back of my first cap and gown. In both pictures, it's a side shot, close up portrait style showing my left side.
   The pictures seem natural to me at the time, but then I go to put on some lipstick (a shimmery cinnamon that I had in RL when I was seventeen) and something is wrong with the mirror. I can only see the right side of my face and can't move myself to looking straight forward at the mirror. I try to look up at my eyes and the mirror is foggy there. Then I see the door opening behind me to the left and I realize I've left the pictures and documents out on my chair and I wake up.
Dream over.

SUMMER!

I just wanted to tell the world that it is SUNNY outside around here, nowadays... YES!!!!!!!

insert witty title here

Every once in a while I find myself in a slippery conversation and realize I'm not really getting my point across but can't help but to continue. Continue to what end... not sure. It's like having a Foot-in-Mouth Day. One of the days when you know you should attempt to say as little as at all possible for as much of the day as possible. Today was one of those days, and I had one of those conversations. Contemplating later all the other things I could have said, I realized that talking to some people is like looking through a glass, thinking it is a window and then realizing that it is really a two way mirror. Exactly like that.

fluctuation, perception

when contemplated too far... zooming in on something too far... the quicksands of life can drown you... perception... a constantly changing, constantly barraging, thought, belief. there are few pillars of belief that are not in a state of flux, or merely change in outer appearance while the same basic, steadfast point remains... glimmering, turning, watery beauty that a light shines out of - the light of unbending truth.

never never land?

I've climbed to the top of these stairs before. They are the same stairs, turning, cold stone stairs climbing a tower, ever climbing, clockwise, clockwise, upward, upward. Never reaching the top of the tower, the final step brings me to the top of a straight, regular staircase, alone, and a dark fogginess covering anything but the stairs ... I've seen this before, the same never getting anywhere feeling. Just when the hard part is done, it turns out that was the easy part. Finally, I know what I'm talking about - wait no, I know I don't. Read back to the childish journal entries of the past, five, ten, fifteen years... wait, it's the same voice, the same soul, the same newness and naivety. Am I trapped in an emotional never never land?