Independence Day

I love America. We trip up sometimes, but it's a great country. I'm glad I live here. It's that simple.

Amanda and I celebrated our love for our country by re-viewing her old Vogues and Elles and trying, somewhat successfully, to come up with designs for Isabel's fashion show. We also practiced our sewing skills by making a bathing suit top, again, somewhat successfully...

We also hung out with her family at the neighborhood block party for most of the night, which I enjoyed since a family night would be moot in my circumstances. Family? It's hard to enjoy a boating trip or a barbeque given my family equals two helpless, crazy women (one of them being me) at this point.

Gauguin

Sometimes, you have to be your own comfort. So, I spent the day semi-productively, looking over my dad's old art books again. My favorite is Paul Gauguin. I just get this feeling from his art that is really rare for me. I'm no art connoisseur, but when I look at certain pieces of art, I can almost feel the time that went into it. I have a deep appreciation for things that take dedication. Maybe because it's something that I'm lacking?
I want to marry an artist, I think.
And live in that little blue house, and make lemonade from scratch and wear silk dresses everyday.

Castles

There is a point when language stops being a barrier and starts becoming more than just differences in ink and tongue. I stop trying so hard to figure out the riddles of conjugation and pronunciation and listen to rise and fall of voices and suddenly, I can feel all the beautiful late night walks and quiet moments when I cried myself to sleep.

I'm a dreamer but somewhere between castles and clouds I found an equal and we could lay here forever, that's fine. Words don't mean much to me spoken out loud, and I think we've found a way to put them into breaths, fingers. I could wind them together for you and create poems or songs, but when I'm done creating all that's left is us; we're back to square one. Which is why, i think, we should just lie here forever.

Not time to pretend

I tend to flow on a here and now basis; my roots are in the present. But thanks to the unexpected epiphany that prompted this blog, I've realized that "here and now" is a choice, and while ignorance is bliss, ignorance of the past is a bitch.
I'm doing backbends and having the sensation of cartwheeling forward.
My roots may be in the present, but while unawareness shrouds my eyes, they are sneakily growing back up to the surface and undoing all the progress I was so sure I had made.
Life is undeniably the best and only teacher I will ever have. Maybe I should take a clue from it once in a while