Listen guys, I’m just…I’m just not ready for it to be football season okay? I mean, I know it doesn’t start until August or whatever, but everyone knows that when Hockey is over, all the attention goes to football.
Well, I love the Caps with all my heart. The Redskins have let me down for the past few years so I’m not too excited about the season starting up. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still be rooting for them, but it’s just not the same y’know?
I will miss rockin’ the red, and watching games every few days as opposed to every (maybe) Sunday. I will miss seeing Boudreau’s cute little face and feeling the rush of every goal scored. It’s been a great season, Caps, and I’ll be counting down until the next one. I will think of Football as my breaktime amusement. Sort of like a very extended halftime show.
What They Don't Tell You at Orientation : The Art School Handbook
WARNING: FAILURE TO FOLLOW PROPER GUIDELINES MAY RESULT IN CHARACTER DEATH AND ANGST OVERLOAD.
1. One must have a very strong opinion about something controversial. To be edgy and different is key. Note: Your opinions will be the same as everyone elses, so be prepared always to adopt the defensive view. You’ll stand out and it’ll be cool.
2. One must constantly be singled out. Everyone is out to get you and society doesn’t understand you. A true artist must literally suffer to be great. Obviously Tim Gunn, Annie Leibovitz. and all members of the Rococo movement were suicidal.
3. A personal, unique sense of style is required. This will include skinny jeans, old tshirts. a pack of cigarettes, and the “I just got out of bed” hairdo. It may seem like everyone is dressed the same, but you,re the real individual. See number 2 for more information.
More to come tomorrow. Maybe*
*Ambiguity and Impulse will be covered later. Probably.
I went to make sure I had all my fiber prints, that I worked on for hours mind you, only to have to peel them apart resulting in many rips and spots. Luckily these rips are mostly on the borders, not the images.
I ran out of 5x7 pearl paper. I have 7 pearl work prints and 7 glossy ones. I’m supposed to have 15 at least.
There is a critique today
I didn’t have to walk to Wakefield to print, and Jordan made a pit stop at starbucks which was much needed.
I found extra paper to make in to 5x7 paper so I’d at least have close to 15 instead of just 7
The caps play tonight
I’ve been ahead and very hard-working in photo up until this stupid bad luck, so hopefully she won’t be disappointed.
I got to chat with Ms. Davidson for about an hour today. I love her.
I don’t have to do any work in photo today, just sit and listen. I.e. check the caps game on my ipod for 5 hours
I got lots of new music on said iPod for the metro ride
I’m still in a really good mood. I don’t feel angry or annoyed or depressed even a little bit. Hey, stuff happens. That’s why people learn.
*Note, this is a piece that I am turning in for writing tomorrow. The assignment was to write something of undetermined style, subject, and length. I was going to turn in my “I will never regret writing this” post, but I decided to focus on just one paragraph instead. Enjoy :)
It has been almost a year now. Normally April and May are abuzz with excitement, anticipation, and perfection. This year it is a little different. I still am pushing for perfection, but in a totally different way this time. My toes aren’t sore. My legs don’t ache. My body isn’t begging me to take a day off. I’m not the one getting yelled at, I’m the one doing the yelling. I won’t be backstage jumping around trying to get my nerves to calm down, and I won’t be exerting more energy than I thought I had when it comes time to show what I’ve worked all year on. I’ll be watching instead.
It hasn’t hit me until now that I’m incomplete. I think my body and mind are so conditioned to this time of the year being so full of emotions and eagerness, all being desirable. This year, it’s empty. The people who I shared these feelings with for fifteen years of my life are scattered about the country, and though we will come together for the inevitable event, it will not be the same and certainly will leave much to be desired.
I will not deny that I had something amazing. I could remember every single moment of every single dance that I had done or seen, and each dance would linger in my mind from the first moment I saw it. To this day I can still perform my first ballet piece, along with almost every other dance in that particular recital, as long as someone will push play for me. I know that is a rare thing, as most dancers struggle to remember the few dances they have to perform in one recital. Not only do I have this insane ability to retain, but I also could get any combination down after seeing it just one time. I was always, without fail, on the correct beat no matter how syncopated and abstract it may have gotten. I’m glad I can share this talent in teaching a beginning pointe class, but I wish I were the one being showcased and not them.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m so very proud of them, and I do get goose bumps just thinking about watching them on stage, but it’s not satisfying enough. You can call me selfish, you can call me whatever you’d like, but I need to be up there. I put on my own pointe shoes for the first time in a long time last week, and I had to fight with everything in my body to keep from crying. It was almost like a scene out of a movie. There I was, in the empty studio, performing routines that had become so mundane to me after repetition every single day for so many years. My feet pointed beautifully, my extensions were enviable, and my execution was perfect. I didn’t want to stop. I couldn’t stop. I wished so much to be back in my own familiar studio with my best friends, sharing so many memories that thousands of pages wouldn’t even begin to fit. I wanted to collapse to the floor because my heart was breaking in to thousands of pieces just remembering what was over.
Maybe it took this long to hit me, maybe I’ve been so busy acclimating to a new environment that I just now realized what I’ve lost. I was tragically good. My friends and I were at the top. My name is recognized throughout the entire company, down to the four year olds just beginning. I may sound cocky, but I just can’t deal with the fact that this part of my life, so many hours and years spent, is over.
I can’t continue to think about it, or I may just implode.
Dresses from Nordstrom: I can’t afford many, I also have at least five beautiful dresses in my closet with price tags on them because I’m waiting for “the right occasion” to wear them
Necklaces involving bows and/or diamonds: I ruin them too quickly. And again, diamonds are expensive. I’m a college student. Though they are just stunning…
Adorable shoes: I only wear one or two pairs of the thousands I have. There’s never a good time for heels, though if I could survive wearing them every day I totally would.
Really cool tattoos: Have one. It didn’t feel too nice. Parents (and boyfriend) probably wouldn’t be happy with the addition of more. Don’t worry they’d all have some meaning. But I can picture so many, so cute…stop stop stop!
I need parental controls on my internet or something, as now I am in dire need of many of the aforementioned objects. Someone help me!
But that happens multiple times a day for me. I’m easily fascinated, so probably I just have ideas and they’re huge earth-shattering ideas for me. Until the next time. Maybe I’m just a dreamer. Oh well, its entertaining in the least.
I’m going to write everyday. I know I know, I swore off frequenting the internet, and I probably won’t actually write every day, but this is different I think. Its helpful and therapeutic, and sometimes I actually get responses from my silly ramblings. Last night was one of those times. I don’t want to go in to much detail because, well I’m selfish and I want to keep my moments to myself (most of the time…but also I like to brag…contradictions at their best!) Basically, I got probably one of the most amazing messages last night from one of the sweetest people in the entire world, and though it may have come and gone, that moment will undoubtedly stick with me for the rest of my life. I’ve already copy+pasted the message into a word document to save for those times when I’m feeling like ugh screw you world. (As a side note, everyone should check out http://runkrissyrun.blogspot.com/ , she’s an amazing person and her blog posts will keep you intrigued and probably teach you something too. And look for a link to Sam Edwards photography on there too, he’s really good.)
As far as the whole dancing thing goes, I’m going to, drumroll, get off my lazy butt and find a place to take classes. I know a guy who teaches, but he’s intense and also it’s not a concrete thing yet. Oh well there’s always time. I think may has hit all the former company members hard because I got a text from one and a facebook message from the other pretty much expressing the same sadness that I had. Probably my little ballerinas and dance parties in Dayniels basement will have to suffice for now. I think I’ll live.
I certainly babble a lot, but I have a lot of things to say and I usually don’t say them, but its the internet, so if I’m ignored at least its not face-to-face. Fine by me!
As another side note, there is a fire truck in arlington that has rainbow lights and buttons and knobs on it, and I am obsessed with it. It is my goal to ride on it one day. Its beautiful. If it weren’t a felony, I’d call 911 right now. Also, I wish my (grandpa’s) boat was fixed. Nothing is better than spending a day out on the water.
Anyways, the moral of the story is that I think everyone should write every little thought they want to share. Even if it takes up a whole entire website, thats okay. Chances are a lot of people will enjoy reading it and then it will spark some kind of though in them and then so on and so forth. Maybe if everyone just wrote down what they wanted to say, no matter how trivial, we’d all realize how silly and alike we were, and live happily ever after!
One can wish, right?
"Do what you love. For you. No one else." Thank you Kristen :)
I am so, SO tired of being nice and happy and quiet.
Everyone else bitches and whines and moans and I simply say “oh man that sucks I’m sorry, oh bummer, oh dear let me help”
Well fuck that.
Fuck Corcoran, Fuck Wakefield, Fuck people, fuck it fuck it fuck it.
I cannot believe the level of rudeness and pretentiousness that I encounter every time I have class. We are freshmen. We are there to learn. Nobody, NOBODY is a god, and if they are, they’re probably doing things for like addidas and such. OH WAIT.
I can honestly say there are about 4 people in the CCAD class of 2013 that I admire, and two of them I don’t even talk to ever. So there goes that.
Maybe its because I’m a commuter, or maybe its because I’m not “hip” and I don’t smoke or like indie music or know how to ride a bike. Maybe its because I’m not outgoing enough. Maybe its because I’m not in to hard drugs. Maybe, just maybe, I’m going to make something of myself and this is the worlds way of saying “hey you won’t have time for friends in the future, so start being alone now.”
I’m beginning to be okay with just texting my daniel and my mom all the time. They’re nice to me, and I love them with all my heart. Daniel is all I ever need because he is my best friend and my love, and my mom, well, she’s my mom duh. Also, I love every single professor I’ve had so far. Even Joey. They help, and they at least know how to give constructive criticism. And I’m certain they’re tired of the “hey I’m the next big thang so fuck what you say” attitude from every. single. student. I’m glad to be learning and I know I’ll grow from it.
This being said, I’m so thankful for the friends I do have. I may not talk to them on a daily, weekly, or even monthly basis, but when I do, its like we’ve talked every second.
Also, what the FUCK am I doing without dance? Teaching an hour of pointe once a week is not the same as being in the company. Our company. I didn’t realize how much time and energy I put into it until it is all suddenly gone. That was my home away from home, my getaway from life, and probably the place I felt most comfortable. As I put on my pointe shoes today and watched myself dance in the mirror after all the little kids had left, I had to fight back the tears because it was, in the most unconcieted way possible, beautifully tragic. My form was still perfect, my feet pointed beautifully…yet I won’t be going on stage to show it off any time soon. Or ever again. I can’t even think about it, it feels like a piece of my heart is gone.
I plan on this being my final (and only, depending on how you read my other posts) emo whiny blah blah woe is me post. And I plan on not crying as much anymore.
I’ve been with you for, oh I don’t know, about 10 years? Possibly more? It’s been great, don’t get me wrong, but I have new interests now, and I enjoy being outside and going and seeing and doing rather than just being cooped up all the time. Of course I will still hang out with you on rainy days or cold days or lazy days, but I still have other things that I’d prefer to do. I like to go on trips with the boy, or just hang out and read a book or something. Of course I’ll also still use you to promote my photography (It’s the only sane way this day and age) and to see what other people are up to, but otherwise consider this my notice that I won’t be very tied to you anymore. I don’t feel the need to spend copious amounts of time with you every day anymore, only occasionally when I get in that kind of mood will I fall prey to your seduction. Sometimes you just put me in a bad mood or make me feel snarky because of what other people are saying. It all feels very middle/high school to me, and honestly I’m at a point in my life where I’m growing up, and becoming my own person. You revolve around other people, and thats totally fine and all but I personally don’t care. I can keep in touch with my friends other ways, and only when I want to see pictures or send something cool, I probably will come back to you.
Thanks for keeping me busy, dearest Internet, but frankly, I just don’t need you anymore.