all time low

Bullet points are the only way to deal with this information:
-I am not certain that I brushed my teeth today or yesterday.
-I weighed myself before and after a bowel movement. I lost 1.5 lbs.
-I can't remember the last time I brushed my hair. Generally, it's clean, but rarely brushed.
-I have worn a pair of pants (GUYS! PANTS!!!) for nine days. In a row. That's correct. Pants. 9 days. NINE. They have not been washed, don't worry.
-I never wash my face at night unless I am sharing a bed with someone.
-I ate ice cream for breakfast this morning.
-That breakfast was eaten at 11:35 am.
-For the past two days, I haven't left my house until , at the earliest, 2pm.
-There was a span of time within the last two weeks wherein I couldn't see my floor in my bedroom.
-I haven't gone to bed earlier than 3 am any of the nights that have been December.

But damnit all! I have got to get an outline, annotated bibliography and draft of my thesis proposal to my adviser tomorrow. I find an insane need to have her validation and approval, and so I am working my ass off tonight to make it happen (don't be fooled, this blog post took three minutes to write and I will be back on my game after this tiny break).

This is my writing song. 

(and some secret information: The janitor who empties the trash in my office, which is where I currently am, smells amazing. He must wear the most delicious cologne... He came and left over a half hour ago, but I can still smell him and, DAMN. I know that is weird but really. REALLY.)

too proud for love

I know that both of these songs (CLICK! CLICK!) are so incredibly old, but I feel them both so much right now. I am going to bed tonight feeling confused, apprehensive and maybe even a little bit worried. I miss feeling comforted.

A wise woman told me to try to have more charity today. Another one encouraged me to have more faith. What's left? Hope. I have a lot of hope, almost in absurd quantities that should perhaps give cause for concern but rarely do.

I think I am going to get those other two working better/more for me. I've heard they work best together.

 

I apologize, I don't know where this image actually came from , I have had it saved on my hard drive for a very very long time, but it basically epitomizes my feelings at this moment. Like... all of them, especially that tornado and that heart.

The internet is an enigma, wherein sometimes

i find pictures of myself on the internet that are not of me, but kinda are.

Here's one example:

(Via)

(I doctored this image to make my point in Microsoft paint, which I am happy to report, was born the same month and years as me, and has changed remarkably little in those 26 years. I like when technology moves MUCH slower than I, a real human being, do.)

Which is not actually me at all, in any way, except that I have been in that location and have at one (or two) time(s) had that same hair. Oh, internet- always up to so many fun hijinks.

In other news, I went to this show last night (spoiler alert: swears for realz), which was delicious in every weird, slightly insane way you could ever desire. I believe that a spell was cast over us, and everyone is now drugged to oblivion and is a part of a cult that worships aliens/are satanists.

Oh, and in other other news, I think I may have an actual topic for my thesis. This news is serendipitous and VERY exciting/calming/unnerving news for me.

#emotionalcoleslaw24/7

Almost.

I just finished writing my first term paper of my graduate career (19 Pages? why yes, this IS real life).
I have one presentation and two papers left to write for the term. Those papers are only loosely formed.
I was aided in the fact that it snowed nearly the entire day in Lincoln, causing me to tumble into a veritable pit of despair and indignation. I had to channel all of my energy caused by this personal foul into something creative. The six (and growing) inches currently on the ground outside were the perfect catalyst for me to sit down and finally commit to this paper.

 

Snowflake Studies

Wilson Bentley

ca. 1902

Paired with some Edamame, Neko Case and The Kills, this is the Perfect Paper-Writing Storm (PPWS for future reference).

I feel only 83% good about the final outcome of the paper, but I can't really afford to spend any more time on it.

Sometimes good enough has to be good enough.

I have a lot to say about a lot of things, but I cannot fathom staring at this presbyopia- inducing screen, with all its pdfs, pixels and internet- seduction for another second. I will have to report more fully at a later date. Just be ready for lots. of. goodness.

Now I need to go take 50 Quaaludes and force myself to unwind; do not think about art, history, theory or culture, context or style for one more minute.

By way of update(s)

oh hey.
So I just got back from an incredible and excruciating trip to New York, wherein I attended the annual conference for the College Art Association.
It was terrific on so so many levels. I will attempt to elucidate them here:
-The girls. The art history girls. in my department there is a particularly high quantity of fantastic human beings. If you are wondering about who-to-date in Provo, and you are a fine male-type, these women are it. Seriously. They have personalities that range from serious and passionately committed, seeking and open to the world, adventurous and fun to spunky and hilarious. Pure love for all of them.
-The conference. I learned so much and was expanded in a beautiful way. I was nervous some of the time, but overall, I felt the benefits and the goodness of being completely engulfed in your discipline and the like-minded. It was good for me.
-The good news. I recieved some very tantalizing news that has served to assuage some of these concerns. I'll keep it to myself (and a select few of you to whom I've already leaked... you know who you are) for the time being, but it's good. I think it's really good.
-The city. I stayed with dear friend Jendar who lives in a lovely little apartment in Harlem. Her hospitality made the trip so delightful, and because of some other friends living in/visiting the city, I was able to branch out further and get a larger bite of the burroughs than most of my compatriots. Delightful time all-around.
-The art. It might seem obvious (and it should): I love art. Sometimes I think that I actually hate art when I am standing in a room chalked full of Renaissance biblical illustration, but really, in my core, I love it. I fully came to this realization when I stumbled upon the work of long-time-favorite artist Alexander Calder.

via

It was like visiting with an old friend who you haven't seen for far-too-long, and you just can't wait to remember why it was that you fell so hard for them. I stood in that gallery for fifteen minutes at least, just using my own breath to make the composition move. I felt the depths of wonder and love that come from interacting with and knowing a work of art. It was  a beautiful experience as those little white dots danced around in the air, just like the work's namesake, a Snow Flurry. Beautiful. 

In the same gallery, I interacted a little less legally with one of Duchamp's works:

via

I pushed that wheel, and set off a tizzy of rage and anxiety from the security guard whose sole duty in life is to protect that from happening. Well.  I'm not sorry; that bicycle wheel was put on the stool for the intent of moving. Duchamp put it in his studio so that he could explore what kinetics are, he wanted to see the composition of movement. So did I.

-The people. I made a few new friends in Nueva York that I am happy to report as my own. If you are reading, it was nice to meet you. Thank you for being good.

So that was New York. It was perfect.

In other news, I have a lot to say. I am formulating a lot of thoughts and things that I may or may not say here (I'm not sure if this is the right venue for some things...). Please take everything with a grain of salt, and don't think things are directed at you in future posts which might be (slightly) angsty... I'm not into passive aggressive blogging (or anything, really). Like Beyonce, "I'm not gonna dis you on the internet, 'cuz my mama taught me better than that".

The last great app

  Today is the last day of the process of applying to graduate schools. The process has been self-reflective and ...for lack of a better word, hard. Without being too self-congratulatory, I am now entering what will surely be the absolutely most torturous episode of the process of continuing my education: the wait.
  In the process of asserting and determining a plan for graduate school, I sometimes felt totally lost, totally flummoxed and doubtful about my convictions to persevere. I wondered what I was doing, and if it was right, but I am very grateful to announce that I am firm in my desire and determination to continue in my education.
  I now wait and seek closure on so (so many) many things. Despite this, I have decided to be happy and enjoy the moment that I'm in now. I realized once last week that I was basically unaware of the social norm to be unhappy, discouraged, and dissatisfied with where I'm at. Yes- things could be better, and yes, I could know more things about myself and about others. I can admit that. But there is also so much that is happy and good about right now; about just-not-knowing.

  Here's to more not knowing. 

via 

  I am excited about being in New York by this time next week. So much goodness in store there; so much to learn and so many people with whom I can connect and build. I am excited to be on the right coast again, ready to brave snowpocalypse 2011.

  In totally unrelated news, I can't stop listening to this song really loud in my room. Also, I have now shaved my underarms 2 total times this year. I don't see why I should... so I don't.

  Happy February, people.