the errand days

Monday, April 21, 2014


This weekend was the kind of weekend where you clean the spiderwebs, metaphorically, out of the corners of your home. An errand weekend.

On Saturday we got up and made biscuits for breakfast. I've never actually made biscuits and it was so easy and so satisfying, patting down that floury dough on the kitchen cart and cutting circles out of it. Steele was supposed to go to the studio, but instead we puttered around the house and finally I said, don't go to the studio. Lets go buy plants. So we did. We went and bought some houseplants for our house. And then, believe it or not, we went to the Home Depot and got some wood to fix our dresser drawers. (They were having problems closing.) and at the Home Depot I bought a piece of whiteboard (Which you can buy there! What?) for all of my ideas and lists to become large and in front of me. So then, I mean, we had to run to the Target to buy dry erase makers. And they're hard to find in Target, apparently. So we ran around Target, and also acquired a candle. And then finally, blissfully (for Steele) we left and drove home. 



Man, this is all really boring to write out. But it wasn't boring to do. For as much as I tout the everyday, sometimes I get caught up in it and forget why I'm doing all this: why I'm living the life I'm living, why I care about houseplants and homemade biscuits. Sometimes, a day seems like something to push right through. But it's these silly errand days that remind me that I am building something. That maybe it's rising up so slowly, it's just an idea now, but the ghost frames of my life are appearing before me. It's the errand days that make them a little more solid, a little more real. And one day It'll be a whole framed out house, and then one day, you know, there'll be walls and doors and best of all, windows. 

I especially like the plants. I like to imagine that in 20 years I'll still have these houseplants, but they'll be really big and tall. And that I'll hardly remember what it was like to repot them on the tiny porch, getting my feet and hands muddy in the process. That I'll hardly remember how small they were and how they were so new, once.




this is just to remember

Friday, April 18, 2014



This is just to remember that somewhere in time, there always exists a moment in which I'm standing on a damp and misty path, looking down into the fractured reflection that appears in the cavity of a tree.


spring adventure no. 1

Thursday, April 17, 2014



March involved:

Heavy rain (not the wimpy, hesitant rain of the winter. This rain knows what it's doing.)
Blooming flowers,

And so,
Flower petals coating the ground and puddles

My dad and brother being in town,
More walking than usual. (All the good weather!)

As always, driving, and an awareness of the sky.



___


See all the adventure films:

summer adventure no. 1
summer adventure no. 2
summer adventure no. 3
fall adventure no. 1
fall adventures no. 2 & no. 3
winter adventure no. 1
winter adventure no. 2
winter adventure no. 3


in which I wax nostalgic

Thursday, April 10, 2014

I was just reading through old blogs, as one is wont to do. Sort of like, to know yourself and where you've been and what you were thinking about a week ago, and a month ago, and a year ago. To remind yourself who you are. 

Anyways, I came upon this post, which was written over a year ago. Over a year ago! I can't even fathom. I remember that day still and how walking down the path past the wood studio and past the fibers studio and through the little field, and how the path smelled like dry rocks. 

In that post I talk about how I will miss school, that place, that rock path. The truth is, (at least right now in this very moment. I can't speak for future moments.) I don't miss the place. What I miss is what I felt like when I was there. I miss feeling certain of myself, feeling certain of the future. I miss the beauty that surrounded me. The pace at which I hurried to classes and slowly walked out of them. I miss the community, being surrounded by people who knew me and valued me. 

Life on the other side of school is a lot of things. I've moved forward. (At least a little.) There are pockets of sweetness in my life. But reading that post I as hit with one of those waves of nostalgia. Made more pressing by the fact that it was over a year ago! That's what hit me. So much so that I had to just put it in italics with an exclamation point again. That scares me because here on the other side of school.... what am I? I'm more adult? I know a little bit more about responsibility and fear and being a human. But I'm also tinged a little more with sadness and tiredness. (Maybe this isn't graduation's fault. Maybe this is just my fault.) And it scared me to think that I was getting farther away from that little world I used to exist in. That I'll never be there again. (As I won't. I won't be there again.)

I know those feelings that I'd like to bottle and drink, again and again. I could taste them if they were there, in my mouth. But I don't know where to get them, how to bottle them. Is that life? Learning how to recreate the moments we felt the most certain, grounded? Knowing how to bottle the most intoxicating drug--the drug of knowing who we are. Of being the center of our own tiny universe. 

portrait of a girl at twenty-two years, seven months, and precious few days

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Well if it wasn't the blank box, and me at 11:55 pm, back together again. I've been having some thoughts, you guys. Thoughts like--there are so many things I want to do and be better. So many things I'd like to change about myself. More this! More that! More of something. Or like, I need to change the way I do things. To maximize my productivity and to make sure I'm on the right track and to plan little things and big things. In the correct order. There are so many blog posts and videos and podcasts that say, there is no correct way to do this but here is my way. But somehow, for me, those still always translate into some ideal higher way of doing things and being a person than the way I'm being a person and doing my person things.


I think, really, I need to come to terms with myself. Not that I don't like myself. Just that I need to accept (& better understand) the way I do things. 

Duh moment. 

So, as of now, here are some things I know: 


Working with my hands makes me happy: this means flower arranging, cooking, building a loom, doing a weaving. Even scanning film (that ever tangible image source.)  
I will not be waking up at 7 am every weekend. Waking up at 10 does not mean my day is wasted. 
I do not need to know what I want to do with my life. 
I repeat, I do not need to know what I want to do with my life.
Henceforth, all five year plans are banned. (This doesn't mean I won't plan for the future. This means, I will ban an idea that gives me anxiety and counteracts the good effects of planning. When the time comes that I am bursting at the seams to write out all my goals and dreams for the next five years, I will do it. Until then I will keep living as smartly as possible for the present moment.)

Here is what I will be doing. 

I will be figuring out what makes me the happiest, most adjusted, most confident version of myself. And then I will do it.