8.30 The Senior Center

 

Per usual, kaleidoscopesnowflakes. 

Wall in studio.

Cause animals are terrible liars and beautiful creatures. 

One of our few rainstorms left us with a beautiful site on a trip to Home Depot. 

  

Here are people existing in their own realities and a shitty attempt to put 3 people in the same one. 

I built a lot of cat forts to instigate some friendly battles. 

This semester, I am interested in how everything exists within multiple realities and dreams as an expression of individual realities. I am interested in how the senses being activated or deprived through clothing and environment can affect our emotions, memories, and, vicariously, our actions. I believe that through these realities we can find truth in ourselves.

7.15

Tonight blog post is inspired by Lauren with her quote "idk... Relationships? Future? Present? Cats?". 
Thanks Lauren. I hope you are doing well.

So, relationships. 
Well, my first thought is that I hate relationships, but that isn't true at all. I know that is the impression most people have of me, and, I guess, I say it a lot, but I really don't hate them. I feel more apathetic towards romantic relationships. If one was to objectively look at the "relationships" I am presently in or have been in, one would find that I am extremely uncommitted to any human outside of myself. It's not that I actively avoid relationships, they always passively occur for me. I do well independently, attract someone, put up way too many boundaries, and it sits in a way that neither of us are committed, but it would be awkward if we started seeing anyone else. And the worst part is that I am totally okay with living like this. 
Things are about to get real. 
No one really had "the talk" with me. My mother gave me the appropriate version for my childhood innocence when I was 8 or 9, but you can not explain anything that a mother needs to teach to a daughter at that age. My dad did his best and would give me books, literal text books, on this shit. And it's not that I needed someone to sit down with me and show me, but when you aren't surrounded by those things and you aren't being told how to do them, you quickly separate yourself from it. I put it off, and it was never important in my life. I assumed someone would be with me in the future but never put any importance in to making it happen. 
I like being alone. 
I know how to be alone. 
Even though I might not have had a mother to usher me through life, I had a cat. 
Lc hated me at first. 
When Valerie handed her to me, Lc instantly clawed her way over my shoulder and out of my arms. I spent the next 3 days taking shifts sitting with her in the back-hall bathroom. She didn't really like to be petted, so I took my sketch book and colored pencils and drew her. I liked the lines coming from her eyes and how her face was asymmetrical like mine. Her tail looked wild, and I would spend the afternoons sketching each raccoon-like rings as they wagged lazily about. 
Rascal, our other cat at the time, was insanely friendly, like an open book, or 60 second mystery. but Lc was something else. I wanted to name her Spots (there were spots on her feet), or Amethyst (because I was obsessed with my birthstone and the color purple[surprise.]). My mother hated both of those names and approached me in the kitchen. She told me she had thought of a good name for the cat and it was LC and it would stand for Lynn's Cat. Now, I knew my mother hated the names I liked, and she really pushed it on me. I agreed because I was given a cat (fucking awesome) and didn't want to throw a fit about something so petty in comparison(I was very aware that my family thought I complained a lot[crabsterlynn]). 
For the next few years I barely saw Lc. 
She always napped with my mother, under the crook of her knees so I couldn't reach, or slept in the office, on the highest shelf of the bookcase so I couldn't reach. I would grab her by whatever available limb I could manage to blindly find, and drag her down. I took her back to my bed and would hold her in that sliver of space between my arm and waist. She was always furious and would radiate heat. But soon I became nicer and, although she wouldn't sit on my lap while I watched tv, she would sleep under the covers with me, in the crook of my arm, at night. By the time I graduated high school she slept in the crook of my arm every night. Now that I sleep in a bigger bed she stretches out next to me. Usually her tail is in my face though. 
Wow, this was uncharacteristically personal.

7.11

Many apologies for my absence. I don't know what has come over me. I promise more nonsensical ramblings soon but for now please accept some photos as a post.

 These photos are mine and of my artwork, and they do not belong to you or anyone besides me, Lynn.

6.25

I am very tired. I don't really like Henry James. I know he is great at writing but damn, it sucked.
um.
bathroom art.
lots of getting sick.

I named him Waspy, and he attacked the light for an hour then rested on the printer. I wonder if Waspy is lonely, if Waspy feels pressure to make babies. I wonder if Waspy is scared to face the rest of his life with very little support from his friends. I bet Waspy was too embarrassed to talk to them. He probably works out everyday to impress the ladies, but is too ashamed of his greedy nature to talk to them. Instead, he just buzzes around, chillin. He keeps looking at me with some intent of conversation, but I keep trying to explain that I do not speak wasp. Its disappointing really. I bet we could have some good times, me and Waspy.

6.15

When ever you want to feel disconnected from the world, just look at humans in nature settings. It doesn't look right. Put some naked humans in a forrest and tell them, "Go". I guarantee it would look very silly in 2 hours. There is an artist who took this point, but she left her subjects clothed which ruined it for me. Tribal humans wearing T shirts is when I notice they are impoverished. They have such beautiful traditional coverings. T shirts and jeans have spread across the world like piss in a lake. Tainting everything. Ruining what is naturally there.
It is funny how one thing starts to ruin everything. Who the fuck cares of someone peed in the pool? Everyone has peed in a pool.

Dick fed the cat.
Dick fed the cat, even though he hated it.
Dick leaned down to scoop some food in to the cat's bowl. The weight shift was pushing his toes into the damp spot left in his shoe from where the cat vomited. Fucking cat.

He took me to the park, and I looked at his face.
I let him touch my hair.
I imagined our wedding pictures, his crooked teeth sticking out, my "this is the happiest moment of my life" smile, but it all would be a lie.
I knew this wouldn't go any where.
He tells me things that should catch my interest.
His father's life story. I should have cared about my future father-in-law.
He imagines what I look like naked.
I imagine looking at his face over breakfast.
There is something in the way he looks at children and looks back at me.
I memorize the swing's chain links with my finger tips.
He thinks blushing is adorable.

6.10

I think of all these beautiful things to tell you. and I always forget. Always.
I spend all my time doing homework, thinking about homework, eating so I can stay awake for more homework, and laying in bed "dreaming" of homework. It's more of a staring at the ceiling type dream.
I had a bad experience after making so much progress. My mind was more fearsome than I had imagined. When faced with a landscape of infinite creation my mind decides to spend its time proving what is reality and what is fiction.
I am always told I am a black n' white person. It either is or it isn't. In short, I am always told I am a bitch.
But how are things not what they are or are what they aren't? I either have a notebook or I don't. Now, I might go get a notebook. There is a 50% chance that I might go to the store and pick out the biggest and thickest notebook possible, but that doesn't mean I have 50% of a book. I still don't have the book.
If I feel sick then I am sick. I'm not kind of sick. If I am not well, I am sick.

I call this one, "I've lived in this apartment for two years. I'm an American."

I call this one, "I'd rather be murdered than do this again".

I call this one, "Spots on the nose go down to the toes".

I call this one, "If you steal this fucker, I will murder you".

6.5

So, I thought I would blog before my other class starts. I've deleted my last few idling blog submissions due to the fact that they might be read as personal attacks, and so I have come to a standstill.
I feel a great rush coming over me.
This blog used to be a secret, but I let my need for attention come over me and slowly told more and more people until a post on Facebook happened. Now, I can't shit-talk any of you fuckers.
I am still awaiting an essay that decides our fate. pate is a weird looking word. and the word slit has been bothering me more and more with each passing day. I love my literature class. I am blindly fumbling around my weaving class.
I think my isolation really fucked with my social skills. I am back to square one with eye contact abilities; too much staring- not enough during conversations.
But during that time I built a fort!

It was very womby.
Elk really liked it but kept trying to walk on the ceiling.
Lc was unimpressed.

 Shelby and I are learning how to sectionally warp the Jacquard loom. It's pretty ballsy.
HI SHELBY! You're pretty cool.

These are some men we saw.
They are building our studio spaces.
One's name was Sam. He wore Adidas.
Our architect wears really expensive shoes.
The other two wore hiking boots.
People's shoes tell a lot about them.

 This is how she looks at me when I eat.
Like, "are you really going to eat both of your pieces of bacon? Because sharing that jazz would be preferable."
To which I respond, "Who's a good girl!? You are! ohhhhhh ohhhh", just to piss her off.
Lc is not one for baby talk.

This picture is amazing.
And I love it.
I want everything about it.
yes.
please!

5.27

I've been wearing Chanel NO 5 for the past weeks, and I absolutely hate it. It smells like hospital soap, bug spray and old ladies. But I keep telling myself that it smells okay, only to immediately regret putting it on.
Sometimes, it makes me smell really clean-, which is nice, but that clean smell comes inbetween the initial bug spray smell and the later old woman smell. I guess you could call it moth ball-y.
I don't feel sexy with it.
Commercials are liars.

Lots of piano. very impressionistic since I can usually fib those to my tastes and require less practice than a fugue or solfeggio .
Lots of inspiration has been flowing in. I watched like all of Blue Planet yesterday just because oceans are awesome. I was overcome with the sense of being under water for much too long and had to stop. Lots of insect research. and men's pants.
The handiest thing about my new phone is how quickly I can take and save notes.

If you saw me this way you would think I was a stranger.

"My voice is gonna be weird for this one I guess.
-coughs-
Allergies are gross. Um, Okay. So today, I bought a vacuum cleaner. Don't really like that. Feel really old. I guess. I feel really old. I, like, listened to techno and felt really young and cool. Then, I bought a fucking vacuum cleaner, and, of course, I have to call my dad for help. I've never bought a fucking vacuum cleaner before. And DAMN those bitches are expensive.
So, I call him and I'm like, "Is it worth getting one of the shitty up right ones? Like, is that going to be a good enough vacuum?", but I didn't really want that one. I wanted one like - coughs- my mom had when I was growing up, cause it was fucking good. I don't remember ever being like, "This bitch isn't cleaning up!", but every single vacuum since then? just unusable, fucking broken. Well, Elk has never heard a vacuum before, and she's a little bit scared. -laughs- She'll be fine.
It's really hot.
Um.
Today a woman at Target, where I bought my fucking expensive as hell vacuum, told me she really liked my shirt. It's the black chiffon one I made. She thought it was a single shirt instead of a separate thing over my tank top.
Elk is trying to jump on a stool
YES THIS IS MY FAVORITE SONG RIGHT NOW!
I like it because it sounds like -coughs- it sounds like they are saying "Black bird". Justice does a great job with music. Soulwax does a great job with remixes. Also, why are all these Techno bands naming their songs "ghost things" Skrillex has a spirits and scary monsters. Does Daft Punk have one? They are mostly just about robots... right? Yeah. Oh shit, I just forgot who I've already listed. Deadmau5 has Ghosts(?) and Justice has Phantom. I bet I ready said that one, but I can't really rewind can I.
Don't you just love songs that make you feel like you are going? That acceleration feeling? Kinda like you are flying?
I don't know.
Both of the cats are just staring at me. It is very creepy.
HEY I GOT A CAT TOY! - throws toy- Neither of them went for it.
Oh, and I got those space saver bags, which are giant and AWESOME. I can stand in them and, like, they come up to my waist. and I could have friends in there with me. We could have a ziplock bag party!
That would be so much fun. But I feel like it would get really creepy after about 30 seconds, cause your genitals would be awkwardly pressed in plastic against each other. Oh, gosh. I hate standing next to people.
Oh, and I took my car in to get the rear brakes done, cause my dad and I couldn't figure out the piston. And those bitches talked to me like I was an idiot. They just kinda looked at me. "Can we see the pads? Did you bring the pads with you?" I take it out of the car and hand it to them and they are like "Oh, ceramic." And they just kinda looked at me with the "ohhhh hmm" face AND THEN PUT THE PADS RIGHT STRAIGHT BACK IN THE CAR, like they just wanted to see what kind of pads a girl buys for her car. And that's shit! cause I know they weren't going to put ceramic pads on it anyway. My car didn't have ceramic pads when I went to take them off! Wait, yes, they had the little semi metallic. Those things are so weird.
um, here it comes - dances-
500 freakin dollars later! Well, I had the brake fluid changed too but still! they only took of 60 dollars cause I had my own pads. I know they were going to give me the 20 dollar pads for 60 dollars. I don't think this is fair. I need new windshield washers. No. Wipers. -laughs- I'm thinking of dish washers. That would be cool if you had a little thing you slide your windows through. I guess that's just a car wash isn't it. But it's different you know? It's impractical in my head. Everything would narrow down in to 2 dimensions, squeeze through and get scrubbed on both sides.
She's trying to come in the fucking chair with me. I'm sitting next to a shelf!. and she's... -shakes head-
I'm talking about the car. And so everything would just get scrubbed, and then, like, when it went out of the machine it'd, like, pop back up in to 3D.
Why do we say 2D if it still has the dimension of time?
So wait. Okay, so is like, a cartoon still 2D, an like an object 3D, and video and real life are in 4D? Okay. What is 5D? like, are their more D's that we don't talk about? I feel like there could easily be more D's.
I dunno..
School starts next week. Not this week. It doesn't start on Monday. It starts the next monday.
Hm..
Okay, well, I don't know what else."