on creation

I’ve been writing everything but in my blog. How fair is that? Not fair at all, least of all to me. I feel that I’m cheating myself out of something amazing by not fully participating in this project. Part of the participation, is bloging it. Not because other people are doing that but because I love to write. I love to communicate. And because I never give that to myself anymore. This is an opportunity to focus on me…why is that so hard?


A note about new years

I didn’t actually think we’d be going out but there I was, at Issac’s friend’s party dancing to a great dj. I know he was great because it takes something special to get me to start dancing. I get nervous at parties. When I first walk in, no matter how many people I know, it feels like the first day of summer camp. So I was on the edge of the dance floor, hooping it up and feeling like I was in another world. It felt surreal and real and simple like a gundum space colony, I felt so spaced out. I was in and out of a dance trance. When I hoop, it feels honest, like yoga. I never get better or worse, just different. And that’s why the fear, anxiety and self doubt come up so often. Inside the spinning circle, I can’t hide. I become transparent. It was then and their, starring up ant the full moon, letting my hands get pretty without the burden of self consciousness, doing tribal arms that I’ve seen countless times in Fat Chance and old Rachel videos on youtube, that I began to understand the possibilities of my life. How I’m not bound by anything and what I can actually do with that.


A shorter note on writing

I’ve had to write a lot recently. I remember from before that I would drive myself insane with redundancy. I couldn’t use the same word (other then a, to, me, I, like, we…) more than once within a few lines of each other. I remember sitting on the train, pen in hand, frozen for the entire ride because I was trying to find a synonym for something like “wind”. I can get so uptight about things and that’s something I have to know about myself. I have to combat it instead of feeding it. Like the word “space” that I used twice within a few words of itself. These things make me laugh now. Something once so important reduced to a personal inside joke.

I’m obsessed with words like “bound” and “limit”…and of course their variations.


Art is an extension of the person. Never allow it to be the other way around.