Nothing to touch

Saturday, December 11, 2010

There's a girl. She's just living her life. Maybe she's a little busy. Maybe she doesn't really know herself. Sometimes, when she's not busy, when she's not working, she feels something inside her chest. An ache. Not a physical pain, but something clenching, like she's forgotten something, but for the life of her she can't remember what it was. At times this feeling is very strong, it fills her up, fills her chest cavity up and makes her want to stand on her tip toes. She feels like she's living outside of her own body.

She doesn't believe in God so her feeling can't just be faith. She's sure it's something better, something special, just for her. It comes when she is happy, like being filled with too much joy, but being a little sad, like there's something she's unaware of. It comes when she's sad, like there's something else inside what feels like a hollow chest. It's deep, and the few times she tries to describe it she finds herself pressing into her sternum. "Here," she says, "right here." She begins to think of it as her secret. A secret kept so far away from the world that not even she knows about it. A secret from herself. And she thinks she'll never l;earn her secret. And she thinks she'll never really know herself until she does.

So she goes on.

She goes on living her life and sometimes she's aware of her secret and sometimes it stays hidden away.

When she tried to look inside herself she's faced with this big empty void and that scares her because maybe she's nothing.

"Maybe I'm nothing," she thinks.

"Maybe there's nothing inside."

She's an iceberg, a big unknown below her which can't be seen or touched. Maybe 88% of her is hidden away. Just like an iceberg. Sometimes, when she's trying to know herself, actually trying and not just living, she finds herself on the edge of this iceberg. Her toes could be in the icy water. Like a suicide jumper on the edge of a building. She's filled with a desperation to know, she wants to know her secret. She wants to peel her skin back and find it.

But she's paralyzed with fear. Paralyzed with fear. "Maybe there's nothing inside." Maybe she'll jump in the water and come up to a smooth flat surface of the underside of an iceberg. Maybe she's only 1/9 and she'll never know what the other 8/9 are. Because they're nothing.

And she'll end up in freezing cold water with nothing to touch but ice.








(This was writing for my latest drawing assignment. I realized after writing it that I had written about myself. This is word for word out of my journal, and I wrote it on the bus so I'm sure there are a ton of grammatical errors and some parts don't make sense. But here's my process. I'll have a picture of the piece up soon.)



(And I have become obsessed with icebergs.)

A thought

Monday, November 29, 2010

I have this really suspicious feeling that getting my bachelors degree is sort of going to be like losing my virginity. You know, like it was supposed to make me a whole different person, but really I won't feel different at all.


Only thing is, I didn't pay $20,000+ a year to lose my virginity...

Edible Air

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Ten photographs I took for a book arts project. Here they are just photographs.










Happy Thanksgiving!

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Now for a list.
What am I thankful for?

Well,
I am thankful for food.
So incredibly thankful for light.
I am thankful for Steele and the tenderness which he brings into my life.
I am thankful that my parents support my passion for photography (aka, that they help me pay my bills.)
That I have people that care about me and I know it.
That I am strong.
That I believe that Crrr will always be in my life.
For smiles.
For laughs.
For hugs.
For kisses.
I am thankful for my camera, and that I have the ability to capture those things which I love most.
And hand-print turkeys.

Some photographs

Wednesday, November 17, 2010









(For my first photography project)

And then it happened.

Today I had one of those brief moments of denial. The kind where a certain song comes on and you close your eyes and if you concentrate hard enough you can convince yourself that you're really still in tenth grade on the bus coming home from school and you've just made up the next three years of your life. And you can imagine those surroundings so perfectly, the cheap windows and the fake plasticy brown leather seats and the way you move the way the bus wants you to and not the way you've sat yourself in the seat that you think when you open your eyes you'll actually be back there, be back in tenth grade and you'll be able to close your eyes and dream up a whole new three years, where you make different choices and become a different person. And then you open your eyes and you're really just in Ali's jeep, driving back to an apartment that your tenth grade mind never could have imagined.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Who the hell did I think I was?

November 1, 2010

Monday, November 1, 2010

My best friend has disappeared.

Today is

Monday, October 25, 2010

Today is:

Rainy
Cold
Fresh
Cuddly
Pumpkin bread
Grocery shopping
50 cents short
(of Clean laundry)
Inspired
Normal
Meow
Accomplished

Curled

Sunday, October 24, 2010


Here's what I did today:

Wednesday, October 20, 2010



This is for my color and process class. And yes, it does have color in it. The panels are 5" by 5", so it's about 15" by 40"
I would go in depth about the project, but I don't want to bore you. (or type it all up)

So just appreciate the aesthetics.
Also, there is text on every panel. It's probably a lot more intriguing in person, especially since this photo is a little blurry.

Do-over coming tomorrow.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Well I am pretty friggin' annoyed with myself tonight. I suppose I just have to learn from my mistakes. I feel like I am always spending hours wasting myself and I need to take hold of that. I'm not sure how to better describe it besides going into a long detailed (boring) account of tonight, which I don't want to do.

I'm at school and feeling like I'm stuck here is an icky feeling. I could go to Steele's but as much as I'm comfortable there, it's not my home and I can't do anything there besides sit on the couch.

I'm feeling very grumpy and Na-na-na-na-na I AM independent. So there.

I feel worn out like I just want tomorrow to come so I can have a do-over.

October 18, 2010

Monday, October 18, 2010

Cut up some old T-shirts tonight and it makes me feel good. Like this could be a major metaphor for my life. I am making new out of the old, and blah diddy blah blah. And what could be better than this? I may not look hot tomorrow but day-umm I will feel fiiiine.

Also I had a book arts critique today and it went really well, I am really starting to love book arts and feel passionate towards it. Our assignment was to make two separate books with the same text in each and one of my books used photographs I had taken. This makes me feel good cause I think I will really be able to combine photography and book arts and maybe have a lil' future in that area.

I sort of feel like I am in an airport, on one of those flat escalators, and I am just standing on it. You know how they go real slow? And you're like "This is faster than walking? Really?" I feel like that. Like I've just started moving and I have all this energy because I really really need to catch my flight on time and any moment I'm going to just go all out and start sprinting and I'll be that person in the middle of the airport trying to run with their wheely suitcase and it keeps flipping over and holding them up.

This is how I started my week

Sunday, October 17, 2010





I felt really cute :)


Oh fuck it, I can write whatever I want.
Apparently there's a Harry Potter exhibit in Seattle and I really want to go to it.

September 28, 2010

Sunday, October 10, 2010

An entry from my journal dated September 28, 2010:

Here is something I've been thinking of. I do feel quite lacking because I don't know much about other countries, their cultures or traditions. I feel so isolated. But then I think, maybe that's how they feel? They're isolated in their culture, they know nothing of mine. So maybe I shouldn't expect myself to know all too much about theirs.

I shared this with my friend Justin and he told me this: You're just a single person. It's okay to feel insignificant. Take comfort in knowing that international awareness is greatly higher due to globalization than it ever has been...collectively, everything is experienced.

I like that. It's okay to feel insignificant. And I do, so often. I feel like the smallest speck of dust within a very small world inside a huge universe. There are so many things that I will never get to see or experience. And most of the time, the truth is that I'm not thinking about those things at all. I'm so consumed in my own monotonous life. I'm thinking so within my box that I don't even realize how much I will miss out on throughout my lifetime. It's an odd thought. I feel like I am going to have to accept that fact that my life will always feel ordinary. Perhaps no matter how much I experience.

Offically a break

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Going on a Flickr break. Couldn't have seen that coming after my last post, ehhh?


Why I hate Flickr

Friday, October 1, 2010

Why I hate Flickr:

I hate Flickr because I am exposed to photographers whom I feel I will never be as good as. (I love Flickr because I am exposed to beautiful and inspiring art work.)

Beautiful and inspiring work is not always beautiful or inspiring to me.
It makes me feel shitty. It makes me feel like I am wasting my time. It makes my own work feel pointless, contrived, and cliched. It makes me feel like a dress-up pretend photographer. I see photographs which are simple, in simple locations, with simple lighting, and simple set up. And they are beautiful. Effortless. They make me feel like I should be able to take photographs of equal quality with the life and surroundings I have. This leads me to believe I have A. No passion, B. No drive, C. No creativity or inspiration.

I hate Flickr because I am exposed to girls who are years younger than me and centuries ahead of me in talent. This makes me feel like I should have been doing work as good as them at ages younger than I am. This makes me feel like I have no future in this medium. I feel like I have no direction when I look at others work and they have such a constant skill level and consistent style and aesthetic. I hate Flickr because it exposes me to certain ideals and drills into me certain styles. I hate Flickr because as I shoot I sometimes feel like my ideas are not my own. (I love Flickr because it gives me motivation to shoot.) I hate Flickr because I always end up comparing my work to others.

I hate Flickr.


Now I know what you are going to say to me:

1. Your photography is just as good as theirs.
2. You have all the time in the world to grow!
3. I love you.
4. Your photography is beautiful.
5. You ARE creative.
6. You're not supposed to have a style yet.
7. Blah.
8. Blah.
9. Blah.


(This wouldn't be a rant if I wasn't grumpy.)


So.
If you were thinking of saying to me anything along the lines of 1-9............... Just know that I will still feel shitty afterwards. In fact, I will feel even shittier.



The only way I will possibly feel better is if I have a hot steamy kiss. As Steele is the only person who can give me this, you all may as well give up.

Home

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Today coming home from grocery shopping the bus was very crowded, so we had to stand up. I was standing next to this lady with short dark grey hair. I looked down and noticed she was on her phone, so I took a look thinking maybe she was sending a juicy text. She was on her contacts list. She scrolled down and erased the contact labeled 'Home'.


Why?
Why?
Why?


Why was this older woman with a pixie cut deleting her Home contact? Why was she doing it on the bus like it didn't mean anything? Maybe it doesn't mean anything.

Film is always old

Sunday, September 5, 2010



















A factual list of facts

Thursday, August 26, 2010


10 things which have happened to me since August 10
1. I am back in Portland, OR.
2. I am living in an apartment in a city for the first time in my life.
3. I am becoming acquainted with the fact that I have no one to account for me and thus can spend copious amounts browsing books which I have no intention of buying.
4. My mother had to borrow money from me. (Granted, it was money she gave me, but shhh I'm making myself feel grown up.)
5. I have a new favorite song. ("Be OK" by Ingrid Michaelson, and no the fact that this will probably be my favorite song for the next 3-5 years doesn't matter.)
6. I did something which I regret: that is, I bought the generic version of Velveeta.
7. I used my 24mm lens for the first time.
8. I aided Steele in the very important process of naming a plant.
9. This one's important: I made a mattress pile. (6 assorted mattresses and box-springs piled on top each other.)
10. This big horrible emotion has become a daily presence in my life. And that is that I miss Crrr, very much.