deep inside the ever-spinning / 11:30 am

things I could use less of:

laziness
makeup
distraction
clutter
loudness
television
gray (grey?) skies
congestion
facebook

self-doubt

things

lists

now I'm galloping back / 11:41 am

"Say Valley Maker" by Smog (Bill Callahan)

bad words / 4:05 pm

money --> madness --> pain

money should never matter.

tongue to the snow / 7:15 pm

I'm always lost in between. In between fate and coincidence (I favor fate). In between long hair and short hair (doesn't really matter anyway). In between past and future (yet not really present).

Right now, I'm in between collecting and simplifying. I've been trying to clean my room for the past two and a half hours, and it seems I'm slowly getting nowhere. I'm a collector by nature, but I don't like clutter. This is a problem with limited space in my room and limited storage space. I become attached to things not because I'm overly materialistic, but because they end up meaning so much based on where or when or from whom I received them. Then there's the matter of choosing the right music to play in the background. If a song that inspires me happens to play, I may decide to pick up my guitar and write my own song. Then I might decide that cleaning can wait until tomorrow. A fresh start never hurts after all! This is all beginning to sound like If You Give A Mouse A Cookie, no?

How can I keep my collections and belongings, but organize and create space at the same time?

runs deep / 1:35 am

http://www.fleetfoxes.com/projects/tour-doc/

Reminiscing about one of the best shows I have ever seen. It's been months and months since that night, but it gives me a warm feeling just thinking about it. I wish I had some footage of Joanna Newsom singing at the show as well...

"And it can have no bounds, you know
It can have no end
You can take my hand in the darkness, darling
When you need a friend
And it can change in shape or form
But never change in size
The water, it runs deep, my darling
Where it don't run wide"
- J.N. "Jackrabbits"

It was a good Christmas Eve day--spending time with family, listening to conversations,  thinking about things I can't put into words, joining in conversations, watching old Christmas films and eating cookies without regret. Now I'm tired, but there's a certain energy preventing sleep from setting in. Several years ago that energy would have been a certain jolly bearded man clad in red (also known as loving parents) and the presents I would be getting, but now I'm kept awake making things for people and focusing on giving. And Adam isn't here, my room is cold, and I never did find that centipede who was sharing my room months ago.

(Sidenote: I'll admit the idea of reindeer on my roof still excites me a little. That's the most disappointing part of Santa's figurative nature for me.)

layers, cells, constellations / 1:32 am

Something is keeping me awake tonight and I feel ready for anything. Usually this happens when the moon is bright or I've had too much coffee, but I can't even see the moon and I only drank one cup of coffee early yesterday morning. I feel refreshed and almost crazily alive, whereas I am usually just entering my dreams at this hour. I feel wonderful, but the frustrating part is that I can't understand what I feel the need to accomplish right now. I have all of these ideas spinning around my head, so much I want to communicate and create.

Part of it is probably due to the imminent trip Adam and I are about to take. I'm excited to see new cities, but I'm more excited and anxious about what it means symbolically for our journey together, especially after spending so much time apart (though we have really only been more a part of each other in some ways--the longing, the planning). There is so much unknown right now and I'm okay with that. One of my biggest accomplishments in the last four years has been learning to accept and embrace the unknown--that is not to say I always do this. I still struggle with change in a very large way, but I'm also able to step back and see its worth and necessity. 

I'm thankful for so many people. For Adam, my family and extended family, Adam's family (also my family). For Leslie. For friends I have met in the last four years and will hopefully keep for a very long time. Even for friends I have recently met and will probably not be in touch with for the rest of my life. I'm thankful for friends from Good Earth Farm, for the farm itself and what it has taught me about my body and my mind, and about how I am connected to the earth. How I want to become even more connected to the earth. 

I look forward to the future, as much as I often become stuck on the past and nostalgia. I look forward to being a music therapist, hopefully some sort of farmer or at least gardener, and a million other things. Sometimes I get scared of these labels too. I don't want them to become boxes, where I am only a music therapist, for example. I don't want to become so tied down that I become detached and distant from the people and things that mean the most to me. I want to continuously grow and never remain static, even though I may not always be able to be visibly moving forward. That's only apparent through looking back after some time has passed, I realize. 

I know I'm not fully "mature" and there is a part of me that never wants to be considered fully "mature." I want there to always be some question, some wonder, something to cry and laugh about. I want to understand things, but I also want to keep a certain level of curiosity. I want to make mistakes, so that I can learn to shine all the brighter. I want the people in my life to know how much I love them and I want to give back to them while I am able to. I am scared of losing certain people, not having ever told them (through words or touch or shared silence) how much they mean to me and of sharing some part of life with them.

"We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations." - Anaïs Nin

habits

spilling coffee on my self / furniture / floors
letting my nails grow too long, then cutting them too short
looking at my body in the mirror too often
apologizing for my allergies ("not sick, just congestion!")
collecting, mostly books
gathering dustballs from the floor (inherited from dad)
losing track of time while showering
checking fda labels for high fructose corn syrup
grumbling at the television
becoming preoccupied with music, poetry, and images
attempting to prolong my dreams (how?)

either/or / 1:26 pm

I wish my emotions weren't so intense. I wish I didn't care. I wish I could make myself understood. People always talk about the fierceness of adolescent emotions brought on by hormones and unruly decisions. What about adult emotions? Where is change?

the universe & you / 11:59 a

Art/video by Sean Pecknold. www.grandchildren.tv

Music by Robin Pecknold.

The Universe & You from Grandchildren on Vimeo.

In the staff office. [bored waiting scared eager]

girl go / 2:30 pm

"Girl Go" by R. Stevie Moore