A few of my favorite things.

Yes, I know I have been epically failing at posting. But let me catch you up a bit. The last two weeks I was ravaged by a nasty sinus infection requiring antibiotics, nasal rinses, humidifiers, and being trapped in my bed all day, everyday. The week before that I had my wisdom teeth out, the week before that I was waking up very early to take care of a sick toddler and then staying out late to make use of the time I had left with my best friend who soon left for DC. Then, as you know if you've been keeping up, the weekend before that week was outside lands. So I've been a bit of a busy bee, it would seem. I leave for college in a week and a half so today I started packing. I've been having near anxiety fits over the fact that I might not have enough room for everything. I mean, I'm moving my whole life. It's been lots of organizing, labeling and storing. But, as a break, I thought I'd post about things I love.

I LOVE EVERYTHING MGMT.

Jack Kerouac. Half man, half mystical genius, oh so human.   Became a casualty of the generation he created.

"How many cares one loses when one decides not to be something, but someone" -Coco Chanel

"There is no such thing as part freedom" -Nelson Mandela

The absolute queen of class, poise, and style, Jackie Kennedy Onassis. I love absolutely everything about her. I'm completely obsessed. 

"We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face... we must do that which we think we cannot."
-Eleanor Roosevelt

Humans are terribly selfish creatures

That is all.

Mustache Mania

Sunday evening Justin, Dillon and I went swimming and then cooked some delicious talapia tacos with avocado and mango salsa. mmmmmmm. While at Raley's justin picked up some fake mustaches from those little toy machines you put quarters in. This is the result. We are so ridiculous.

"'But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.
'Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat. 'We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.'
'How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.
'You must be,' said the Cat. 'or you wouldn't have come here.'"
-Lewis Carroll

This is the first day of my life

  A lot has happened in the past month. Like, a lot. CCA was such an amazing experience with so many beautiful and talented people and I hated leaving it all behind. The last day was so bittersweet. I was so proud of all the progress and friends and I growth I made, but I knew it would never be like this again. Driving away from cca, I was hit with this overwhelming feeling of ambivalence. It was weird, beacuse I realized that this bittersweet feeling of nostalgia is what a majority of people in my senior class must've felt like at graduation. As opposed to mindnumbing relief and the feeling of finally being able to breathe freely again, which was how I felt. So in a way, I guess I finally got my graduation. It's hard being back in Sacramento, but it makes me happy to know that there are intensely creative people all over the world, just like at cca, and I just need to find them. I guess now, as ridiculously cliche as it is, I can really say I left my heart in San Francisco.

I really didn't take as many pictures as I should have, in fact most of these are stolen:
My final artwork in the gallery (the four in the middle), cca best friends!, vintage dress I wore on the last day, giving myself tattoos with paint and sharpie instead of helping hang gallery stuff (sorry art class), snazzy bracelet the nice people at the ER gave me (split my lip open, needed eight stitches, it wasn't bad, I promise), cca friends cleaning one of the kitchens (except for david, of course), bakery sign in whole foods across from golden gate park, and most of our group of friends taking a picture on the last day.
I hope everyone is havig a wonderful and happy summer, I know I am(:

"What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies."
-Jack Keroauc

Snippet

sooooo, I haven't been posting because I've been suuuuuuper busy, but I'm back home now. This is part of a post I started maybe two weeks ago. I'm just going to post what I have of it in all it's unfinished glory, because I think I was on an interesting thought process. So, here you go:

I've been doing a lot of art lately, and I'm not sure if I really like any of it. It's weird I never thought of how much hard work being an artist actually is. People usually make fun of art majors as slackers who never have work and take easy classes. I'm starting to think the reason more people arent artists is because it's a lot harder than some of the more popular job choices. I'm not saying being a dentist, or engineer or lawyer isn't hard. It's extremely hard. I'm just starting to think being an artist is just as hard. For most jobs there's a set of in stone procedures that are often tedious and need to be learned. Not only does being a artist have these also, (I just learned how to use palette knives and why duchamp's urinal is actually a brilliant piece of conceptual art), it also has the added caveat that in order to somehow succeed, you must be radically different, and figure out how to stretch your brain in ways you never imagined possible. Honestly, I'm not quite sure I have what it takes. I feel so lost in class, all the time. Like I'm drowning as opposed to treading water. I think it's because being here is teaching me to think of creating art in a whole new way that doesn't match up with my previous way of judging my works as failure or success.  My art teacher the other day was talking about how beautiful it is to have the gift of being able to create things,
aaaaaaand there's where it trails off. I think that's about when I lost my phone. Hm.


More posts soon, I promiseeee.

Smoking kills, folks.

Silence floats from your lips
Like smoke curling from a cigarette.
It stains my ears
Like tobacco stains fingers.
Glowing red tip,
Cancer emitting stick,
You were my cancer.
You were my malignant growth.
The tar that filled my lungs.
I coughed until I choked,
But I willingly inhaled.
Bought myself more and more packs,
Ignored the warning label,
Big, black, bold:
SMOKING KILLS.

Now my lungs fill with air,
Crisp, clean, fresh.
I reach up towards the sky
Feeling new strength in my expanding lungs.
But your scent slightly lingers.
Little curls of smoke,
Full of deafening silence,
Full of words you never said.

I met a girl who kept tattoos for homes that she had loved,

If I were her I'd paint my body til all my skin was gone.
I'm not sure why I ended up humming that song yesterday evening while on my way into San Francisco, but it oddly seemed to fit.
Frisco's my favorite city, ever. Its dirty and disgusting but I absolutely love it. It's so overwhelming. I feel like it's the place im meant to be, but it's so scary. I feel like such an outsider, in a place I know I belong.
I woke up in new York city from my sleep behind the wheel.
Caught a train to poughkeepsie and time stood still.
Walking around with the group of kids I was with, figuring out bus transfers, and where to walk, I was torn between two feelings. An overwhelming love of the city, the desire to soak it all in and become a part of it and the desire to crawl into a ball, and tune out everything new an overwhelming in favor for something more familiar.
 She wrote me a letter from San Diego, to qualify her luck.
These flights connect through Arizona, but I think I'll stay stuck.
So here I am.
And there I was. We wandered through Castro street, up and around the haight. I bought Tales of the City and a hippie backpack. This Hobo pointed out jimi hendrix's purple orgy house and I coughed through clouds of cigarette smoke.
I woke up in a car, I traced away the fog so I could see the Mississippi on her knees.
I love the bay area. I love San Francisco, so much. It's so over powering, and chill. I love cca and the cute little shops on college avenue. I love that everywhere I look are little artsy hipster kids.
I've never been so lost.
I've never felt so much at home.
The city is a whole new scene for me. Full new challenges, and fears and adventures. Somehow, I've always felt San Francisco is my home, and I have no idea why.

She wrote me a letter as we passed through Rockford, she said she won't forget

Maybe I do, maybe I don't, but I know I haven't yet.

Maybe I could live forever, if not ever I had known,

that you'd be waiting here whenever I am alone.

I started this post friday, and have been putting it off ever since. I spent saturday at a flea market (I got some sick waist beads), my parents came sunday (they bought me food, no more top ramen!), and I spent the fourth of july chilling in golden gate park. I've had so much art homework. oh em gee. I'll do a post about art at some point. So busy! I've got to say, I've met a lot of really chill people here.

dress I got at a vintage shop, new white tutu, castro, red platform keds, rape whistle someone on castro gave me (it says castro community on patrol on the side), blurry street, night lights, me in front of a crazy hippie shop on haight, my name on a bus sign!, more crazy hippie shops.

"I never saw such crazy musicians. Everybody in Frisco blew. It was the end of the contentient; they didn't give a damn"
-Jack Kerouac