Remember O Most Gracious Virgin Mary

POW!

I, my friends -mind you- IIIIIIII, am going to Chicago Thursday.  Won’t be back until Sundae.  I shall be visiting Caitlin and the other wonderful Northwestern people, namely, John, Brett and David.  Good peoples.  I’m more excited to see Caitlin than I am to see art….maybe cause i spoiled it for myself by going when I came up a month ago…..But Caitlin is my facebook spouse after all!  Nevertheless,  it won’t feel the same without the Hottness, that is, Amy. 

alright.  why did i waste internet space on this? oh…i dont care. 

 ”trash it up, trashy!”  hah…..something a good friend of mine might say…it was his birthday today…. 

a side note to self:  Don’t reminisce.   …too much.

  you’ve got to HURDLE over that thing BABY!

So, as much as everybody is different, everybody is the same. THEEE SAME.  Everyone in some way or another, has had the same experiences: loss, heartbreak, success, failure, pain, happiness….etc.   The sequences in which they happen to an individual and the particular way the person deals with these experiences makes everyone a hair different here and there.  Essentially, we’re the same.  We all want love, to love and be loved.  To be liked.  To be wanted.  To be happy.  We, everyone deal with life in various ways….

One thing we all HAVE to have is a purpose.   A reason to get up in the morning.  We have to live for something.  Some people live for other people, some for their passion, others for their God, some for their addictions, and more for their job.  We must give ourselves reasons for occurrences.  Teach our children stories, about Santa Claus, Easter Buunny, to make them be good…to give them something to hope for in this world. 

As children, we give ourselves the incredulous idea that adults know everything and when we grow up we will be something, SOMEONE.  We do grow up but still ask the same question.  I have many times asked myself, “Carolyn, you’re 20 years old….what do you want to be when you grow up?”  Here we are, grown up.  I’m 20, halfway to 40, 6 months till im 21, almost 25, halfway to 50.  I look at the other grown-ups, who are more grown up than me….40yrs old, say.  They just LOOK grown up….WE ALL DO…we just look grown up.  I can name a few 40 yr olds who have less of an idea of who they are than I do.  Dang.  THAT’S scary. 

Now we realize, adults are not superhuman, they know nothing.  absolutely nothing.  Yes wisdom.  But when it comes to YOU and YOUR struggles and beliefs, they can talk your ear off, but it’s YOU who must pick and choose what you want to believe to get you through the day…..to get out of bed in the morning.  You are alone.  When you die, no one will be with you feeling it too (if they are, they dont care how you feel, they’re dying too for goodness sake), you will die alone.  SO.  Now we’ve come to a fork in the road…or perhaps many. 

 What do you do?  Get depressed and think you’re messed up and feel like no one else knows….go to a doctor who will give you some drugs?  Take up drinking?  It does a real good job of making everything calm down.  Smoke?  Need that caffeine everyday?  How about some of those “bad” drugs?  Let’s just gloss over and slip through our lives and not know ourselves.  We could constatnly have a girlfriend or boyfriend and take on their personality traits and make yourself feel like you know who you are:  always depending upon that other person.  But then, they break your heart.  Now you’re back to square one.   Depressed, and no one knows how you really feel…you contemplate suicide.  Or you choose to lay your life at the feet of a God.  But did people just make up ‘God’ to have something to live for?  Did the government do it?   Is religion just out of fear?  many people say so.  It’s your choice to make. 

And this is what I have been and seen in myself and continue to see in everyone.  We are all the same.  The only way I can be alive is having faith and hope in one thing.  No one.  I can depend upon no human being, not my mom, my dad, even my husband if i ever get one……I have to believe in my God.  If the idea of religion is looked upon as something for the unstable  feeble minded, if He is a made up theory to maintain some sort of structure in humanity, then let me be a fool.  These statements have been told to me from relativists….about religion deriving from fear, and there is no religion, and you just go through life by doing what feels best to you.  “it’s all relative”  Relativism is just a coward’s way of not saying yes or no.  Picking the middle to make everyone happy.   

Our new pope, Benedict XVI says, “We are moving towards a dictatorship of relativism which does not recognize anything as for certain and which has as its highest goal one’s own ego and one’s own desires.” .   

SO here is my answer.  To the depressed:  GET OVER YOURSELF.  EVERYONE HAS PROBLEMS.  get out.  help others.  share your experiences.  Step outside of your own filth and sorrow you’ve been rolling around in for so long.  Be STRONG. Do not succumb to fear, for out of fear comes anger, and out of anger comes hate. LIVE.  Live for a God.  The one you’ve come from.  be a fool for Him and no one else.  Have hope in only that.  Don’t even have hope that prince charming or princess beauty will come along and sweep you off your feet.  because then you are depending upon someone else for your happiness.  Be happy you have LIFE.  be happy you can see the color green, you can hear a symphony playing,  you can sprint 100 yards and feel like you’re flying.  Thank God for it.  Life is all yours.  Someone gave it to you.  Our God did.

It’s a nice rainy, frizzy-hair day.  I don’t have class until 4.  I slept in til 9, took a shower ate breakfast (ORANGE JUICE) and decided i wanted to just lay.  So i took a nap. 

And while napping I had the sweetest most wonderful dream i’ve ever had in my life.

It was the summer, there was a slight breeze.  I was walking, in a foreign land, through some sort of a village with no roads.  I came to a shady tree underwhich there were about 10, 5 year old children and a man.  The children were playing a game and the man appeared to be their teacher.  

He was sitting down against the tree facing the children, who stood up, facing him.  They were playing some game that required gramatics in sentence structure.  They spoke french, and I understood.  My dream was all in french.

  I stopped to watch.  One of the little boys completed a particulary difficult question and i spoke to him as he went to take a seat.  “pas mal,” i said.  At first i didn’t think he heard me.   But as he joined his other classmates he looked over at me and whispered to them that i knew how to speak french.  A little girl, blonde hair, big watery blue eyes looked up at me and said, “pouvez vous parlez en francaise?”  (you can speak french?) and i replied, “Mais, oui….un peut….” (yes a little). 

The man looked up at me as if I were the fist real life woman he’d ever seen before.  I walked over and sat down next to him.  He began to tell me that they’d been playing this game all day.  He agreed with my amazement at how the children stayed interested in such a thing for so long, but a game is a game.  The sun was setting and there was still a slight breeze.  We continued to talk, forever.  Just about anything.  Like best friends.  Everything started to haze over and fade out, I consciously realized that my dream was ending.  But I remained talking to this person, who i instantly felt was an old friend, comfortable as if i were home.  

I woke up and now I’m sad.  He’ll visit me in my dreams, but won’t come to me when I’m awake. 

These thoughts are on my mind more than i realize.  Bon… 

Just 2 things  -no wait, 3

3 things.  always.

Are artists revolutionaries?  Are artists the only ones in the world who are truly free?  Are they the only ones with vision?Are they just a different breed entirely? 

Perhaps.  Probably not.  But I’ll tell you one thing for sure:  Artists are selfish.

They produce art for no one. nothing.  For themselves alone do they paint a picture.  Write a song.  And that belongs to no one.  You buy it from them, it’s never really yours.  You just paid money to let them let you keep it in your house.  Listen to it.

 why paint a picture?  because.  Because if not for paint brushes and canvases, pencils and paper, ashes and rock, there would be a heck of a lot more mad houses that needed to be built.

Welp.  Jack almost drown. 

Seriously people, if you are thinking about going into art, S(th)TOP IT RIGHT NOW!!!!  If I didn’t love art, i’d have hung myself by now.  The ONLY thing that keeps me cranking out this bull crap our program requires is knowing the fun stuff is SO CLOSE. 

 Seriously…we here in Daap are guinea pigs.  and that statement was no exaggeration whatsoever.  “They” are TRYING things out on us to see how we can take it…and grading us on it?!!?!?  COME ON.  Daap is supposed to be a good program!  The school of Art is run by some frikin electronic media guy who believes it is not important to learn the basics/principles of drawing, painting, sculpture or color because a computer can do it for you!!!!!!  DEAR GOD.  

So there you go…talent or even knowledge has nothing to do with creating art.  (((this is however a somewhat true statement if you question the definition ‘art’ or ‘creating art’…all according to artists like Duchamp, my man Dubuffet, Warhol….etc)))  So, can’t even draw a box in persective?  dont worry! UC’s Daap program wants YOU.

Anywhoo, We’re better now.  I had my crit on my grass-stained undies.  Went pretty well i’d say.  All i can do is thank God for my being able to finish everything, and well.  I really don’t understand how i physically (and mentally) did it.  So now what we’re looking at here is a TINY breather until the next big due date….which is MONDAY and TUESDAY.  Sucks.  oh and i have to work all weekend long.  At least it’s with Stephy.  At least those yucky people got fired.  At least Katie and Amber are getting hired!!!  So I’ll be okay just as long as i get to suffer through it with some good peoples. 

And that, my friends, is quite enough rambling for one night.

Whew for now. 

I saw a Bumblebee in Nippert today.  He was my friend. 

Jack got a sword today.green.  Thanks PHIL.

I drew a picture today.  What’s new.

I got asked to wear clothes for the Spring Fashion Show.  I’m honored.

Chicago trip with FAA people comin up.  Two weeks.

Projects need to be finished.  I’m stressed.

Grandpa B is getting buried in Arlington National Cemetery this weekend.  I’m proud.

Bought new CDs and a new book.  Got no social life?

This music makes me think of better times.  I wish i could hope.

My granny cries all the time now.  When asked why, she says she doesn’t know.  She is alone. 

Gotta rub some underwear in the grass soon.  Thursday they’re due.

John Pappas played some Basement Jaxx on the Northwestern radio, “for Carolyn in Cincinnati Ohio”. I pumped my fist Northwestern-style.

Got some guts today.  chills.

I have the biggest question to ask.  How, when, why and please.

that’s all.  sometimes you’re up, sometimes you’re down. 

Neither Jack nor Carolyn is up really at this moment.  this one. here.  

But being not-so-up makes the true up times sweeter.   So we’re fine, as always.   

Welp.  The damage is done.  I HAVE INSTALLED.  My first installation. “purdy frikin sweet” …as the Samurai would say.  There’s some neat pieces gunna be there.  Oh and the Mockbee (the place where its all bein thrown down) is purdy frikin sweet too….it’s an old factory building…the walls are just big tunnels…..i half expected to see finger nail scratches etched into them…think some creepy movie like The Ring or something. 

Oh how i love art.  Art, i love you.  What an intellegence!  What vision artists have outside of ideas!!!

 ANYWAY…as i was saying before i distracted myself with my own thoughts: the damage is done. If my piece flops, then DOWN WITH IT!  I love it and that’s all that matters to me.  So what if I don’t get any of that $2500 being awarded by judges…..chyeah right…i totally want some money.  But honestly, I’m not even going to hope for being recognized….there’s a lot of art showing on Saturday.  I am just loving this experience.  As of right now, that’s just as good as being recognized for anything.

alright. bed.

I am.  I thought i’d try him out this week.  But perhaps he’ll become a permanent.  I like him.  Captain Jack has a good time. He thinks of good ideas.  He can sword fight.

WOAH!  How messed up do I sound?!  heh.  that’s what the Fine Arts Program at DAAP will do to you.  no joke.  When I see the high school kids getting a tour…i want to run by yelling  “GET OUT!  STAY AWAY WHILE YOU STILL CAN!  DONT LET THEM GET YOOOOOOUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” 

they got me.  And now, I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?

anyway….I am having a piece of work in my very first art exhibition!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I am so excited for it…SO EXCITED.  I think i’m taking a gamble with the piece im submitting…however, such is the life of art.  It is something totally different for me, so this girl’s PUMPED.   

As everyone else in this world, i definately have the issues. More than i thought i did. I thought a friend helped me through them…but i’m now discovering i was dragged through them while they laid dormant for that while. ALL in the meantime, i was given add-ons to the issues i’d been taking ‘help’ on. it’s pretty severe … Now, they are meshing together and creating a masterwork of issue-nesses. I wonder if i’ll ever be able to let someone know me in and out through and through. It’s a scary thought. that’s what we all want isn’t it? to share yourself, to love and be loved, to be at home. to feel at home with someone. i thought i felt that way once, at home. maybe i did. i saw the Garden State movie and was freaked out when the guy started talking about how he felt ‘like home’ with the girl he loved. I knew exactly what he was talking about and wondered if perhaps i’d passed that up.

But then i remembered. I did no passing.

i was asked today, after listening to endless complaints about females who go psycho after they start dating guys, what is the best thing and the worst thing about a guy … of course my opinion is biased towards my views of life, but my answer is that there is no ‘thing’ best or worse about a guy. i think i can confidently say that deep down, the only thing a girl wants is to be loved by a guy who will protect and spoil her, make her his world.  A guy who will wait for her. Wait all his life.

if you find yourself saying, ‘i can’t wait around forever’ then no, you can’t and shouldn’t give it a second glance. GO. no reason to look back. FIND SOMEONE FOR WHOM YOU CAN AND WILL WAIT FOREVER.