Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
like maybe you saw a commercial* for a board game that reminded you of your brother and you thought, i should get that for him for his birthday, and then you remembered that he can't play it and that you miss him?
i don't think the sadness of someone's death ever goes away. it's no longer the crippling sadness that that alternately kept me awake all night and then cringing from the world under the covers come daybreak, but it's still there. sharper and deeper in some ways, or maybe just clearer**, now that i understand it with 29-year-old wisdom instead of whatever passes for wisdom when you're 17-almost-18.
he'd have turned 31 last saturday - still so young. what would his life be like? would he be married? what would his kids be like? where would he live? what career would he have chosen for himself? would he have served our country in iraq or afghanistan? what would he have thought about that (because surely he'd have an opinion)? i worry that i'm forgetting too much. i think about him often, but only mention him in passing because it still has the ability to make my eyes fill no matter where i am - like in my office writing this post, but particularly if i'm doing something he would've loved like this. were he alive today, he'd have been out in front leading our expedition, running down side trails, winning the gallon challenge and generally leaving his own (infamous?) trail behind. like the time he won a contest by eating, legend has it, 12 raw eggs at scout camp.***
my memories become more and more shadowy and are replaced by the frozen pictures from various albums and i feel like this is a kind of betrayal, to myself and to him. curse my mortal memory that saves every exquisite detail of the night he died and the ensuing grief, but fades the sound of his laugh and what his hair looked like and the way his eyes looked when he was up to something. it makes my heart happy (and a little scared for his mother) how much this one reminds me of him, in both look and personality. so alike that grandma kept calling him alex at our last stimpson hoo-rah.
the connections between experience and people and how those things affect a person is the inspiration for much of my artwork. and so, i leave you with this, the artist statement that goes along with these, which i've probably posted before because they're among my favorites:
*because you've been watching entirely too much tv lately...
**for those of you that read this, yes, this post was influenced by her. really i should just ditto what she said and call it good. dear little sister, you are younger in years than i am, but so much wiser.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
it's going to be one of those days.
that was yesterday. now i'm in california and life is good.
and actually, yesterday wasn't that bad. more funny than bad.
Monday, September 7, 2009
every now and then the trail crosses a highway or freeway. the experience is a little surreal, going from the woods to the high speed bustle of the "real" world.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
i've been looking for my driver's license for a good 2 weeks, now. i'm also missing my social security card. if you find one floating around with last four digits...
ha! i'm not THAT stupid.
anyway, after searching high and low and in between,* through several purses, a number of wallets, several skirts, and laundry clean and dirty, i finally found my license in the pocket of a suit jacket that i last wore at my pgcc interview.** it's one of my faves, the same one i got on sale for $4 (i know, right?!) at dillards and wore for my mfa lecture and orals, but i don't often have occasion to wear it unless there are clients in the office. no idea why i put my license in my pocket instead of in my wallet, but there it was, keeping mr. lincoln company. and then i found some washingtons partying in the other pocket.
it was a good day.
*which i often have to do because i don't put (or throw) things away, i put them in piles (or bags or boxes or containers) for later. so i have shopping bags full of old mail to sort, documents to file away, random receipts i felt compelled to save, ticket stubs, pairs of earrings, bracelets that bugged me so i took them off, magazine subscriptions to send off, tickets to pay, etc. etc. etc.
**this interview went VERY well, in my opinion, and i think they agreed since they hired me and i'm now teaching 3 sections of art appreciation.
Monday, August 31, 2009
that my last day at sidley is october 1?
that i ran a 10 mile race yesterday?
that i hiked 167.7 miles with my pops earlier this month?
that i'm one of the "featured artists" at the studio?
that i'm going to see the killers tonight?
that i'm kind of behind on downloading pictures and posting?
that i'm captain obvious today?
that i like peanut butter on crackers with raisins? and pecans? and almonds and honey?
that the above is pretty much all i have left in my cupboard?
that i'm "going private" and i need your email addresses?
that i'm going to expound on all these topics maybe?
that i need to know which one you want to hear about first?
that i'm starting a new blog?
that i'm in the market for some plastic pants?
i did mention that?
ok just checking.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
i'm currently, as you read this, if you're reading it between august 1 and 12, hiking a section of the appalachian trail,* which i've been spelling wrong for the past 2 years. and i love it. the trail, not my spelling problems. like, really really love it. yes, maybe i will marry it, thank you very much.
i don't really know, exactly, why i have this love affair with backpacking. it's a combination of things, i guess. i like the idea that i can carry everything i need to survive (at least for a few days) on my back. it really throws "needs" and "wants" into sharp focus after you've lugged them up and down a few mountains. one outfit. underwear and socks for the number of days you'll be between towns. one set of rain gear. a map. a very lightweight camera. food. water. fire. baggies. duct tape. anything else is added weight. and let me tell you, those ounces add up fast. and they get heavier and heavier.
your worries, too, become a matter of survival. it's no longer, what shall i wear to work today (one outfit, remember?), it's how many miles will i walk. where will i rest. when do i get to eat again? all those daily stressors sluff off and fall by the side of the trail and you realize how silly and unimportant they are, especially if you have eggs to sit on.
cleaning house rocks, too. look, mom, no clutter!