nowhere.

ive had this blog for about a month more than jill, but she already has three times as many posts as i do.

in quite a short time (about a week), I've figured out a lot about a lot- priorities, relationships, friends, time management myself, how to make an omelet, etc. It's been an up and down week, but I've come out realizing what I have yet to learn and what I have learned. I'm still trying to figure out where I am with God, but i know that will come as long as I am seeking him.

I've been given a lot of grace this week, from God and from my friends, and in return, I have done the same.

I have no clue what I will do or where I will go next in my life, but I am happy to see what will happen.

nine days later

another entry.
more adventures.
even more homework to finish.
new people met.
the same tree climbed again (this time with a picnic)
2nd favorite pair of jeans torn.
bike crashed, broken, then fixed (with stolen parts from another bike. not my doing.)
another thousand pictures taken.
first reporter magazine assignment.
wednesday adventure and a chocolate malt.
yellow paint (consequently, my temporary favorite color), on the back bumper of my car.
red paint (my favorite color), now on some nice yellow fire hydrant in pennfield.
henna-d hands and feet (flowers on my hands and a tree with a tire swing on my foot)
favorite spot on campus visited twice- with new folks to enjoy it.
spinning in the rain at midnight.
yerba mate every day, as always. not missed one yet.
painting parties every sunday.
american analog set- 6.99 cd at the record store downtown.
the color blue-gray.
constant talk of living in maine.
girl talking.
living.

Wednesday, September 10 was a small but significant turning point in my life.

Fall.

It's not the 21st of September. But it's fall alright.
I know.
I went to Ithaca on Saturday with some friends, just to see what kind of adventures we would find there. We saw lots of hippies, hiked up waterfalls, swam under the waterfalls, listened to music, went to a skatepark, and laughed alot. That was summer. But the strangest thing happened when we were swimming in one of the pools in the river- it was about 6:30, getting dark, and all of the sudden there were many yellow leaves blowing all about, scattered in the dark blue pool. It smelled like fall, and it felt like fall too.
And this morning, biking to 2D design class, the trees in the quad were yellow and red.

Things happen so quickly. I get caught up in one routine, and suddenly it gets whisked away. Boarding and biking will soon be a memory. So I enjoy it as I can, board as much as I get a chance to- not complain when it is hot and sticky, and wrap this sunlight around my shoulders to keep me warm when winter comes around.

And so many things have just been so lovely recently. Skating, my apartment, a kitchen, the boys filling up my car gas tank for me, cookies, ice cream party, Val, favorite tree, Yerbe Mate tea every single day at 189, nick drake, m. ward, mason jennings, cloud cult, matt pond pa.

God is good.

Anna Rose is a poet.

who likes to merge reality and fiction. Here is an excerpt of a poem of hers that she wrote based on conversations we had this summer.

I.

I snapped a picture of you at twenty,
sitting in your car.
Your hair was red.

I figured you were in love,
because your hair was red.

Is there any other way to show that
you’re 20 and in love
than by dying your hair red?

You disagreed at 20.

bright green
is the color you see in love,
you said, looking into the rear view mirror.

But I always thought that green is the color
of youth and fertility,
I told you then.

Are you young and fertile?,
I asked, expecting a laugh.

Don’t be so analytical
was all you had to say.

II.

You laughed when I showed you
the picture of your twenty year old self.
I asked you why.

You thought I was asking why your hair had been red.

I dyed it red because I liked Bartok.
I wanted to hear Bartok when I looked in the mirror,
you said with a toothy smile.

You pushed your brown hair behind your ear
as you looked down at the picture.
You laughed at your old red hair.

Clean

One of my favorite things is to walk into a clean room.

Surprised?

Though my room at school and my room at home both are a mess most of the time (my room is worse than ever right now- packing does that), I do love a clean room, yet I seldom see my own in that condition- the only time it's clean is when I'm gone at school. Nothing gets done at home then, so there's no mess. and I guess the same goes with my life.

I worked at a high school this summer- teaching for the first half, and then doing graphic design stuff the second half. What I noticed about the school is that it was absolutely pristine- floors shiny and spotless, walls devoid of posters, even the air was clean and unpolluted by noise. Yet the day the students return, the school is a mess again, studdents cramming the halls and the classrooms filled with noise. I think most people would prefer the clean school, but without the commotion and noise, there would be no learning, and the school would be an empty waste.

Last year, in the first few months of school, I found myself in a whole new enviornment, social system, and with a whole new attitude. And I was a mess- stumbling more than I could take a strong step forward. I called my mother and relayed this to her- I wanted to change and live gracefully- not flat on my face half the time. She said "If you want to grow, it's going to be messy, never graceful. If you do all you can to grow gracefully and flawlessly, you will never change or grow"

Funny how in my ceramics class in high school, the most productive days were the ones that I made an absolute mess of the four tables I was given to work on. But what did people look at when all was said and done- the mess I had made, or the piece of art that was the result?

People Watching.

I'm a photojournalist, so I guess it gives me an excuse to watch people, to see how they are taking what they are given in life and using it.

I like the line from the Cloud Cult song- "You're as big as you're gonna get, but you're still growing."

It's fun to watch people in different stages of life. By this I don't mean age, but rather, states of mind and thought- some that I have been through and others that I haven't and may never experience. It makes me think and learn about my own life. In a way, it's quite nice to sit down and talk with someone who is going through the same things I have, but oftentimes, someone will tell me the way they feel that is completely different than what I have ever gone through. And its nice. It forces me to listen and learn rather than to talk.

That's why i like to people watch- something that comes most easily with family and friends

Take my youngest sister Caroline, for example. She is 13, always making plans, calling people, organizing her schedule and her backpack for school, and hardly ever gets stressed- smiling nearly all of the time. 30 year old business woman meets 10 year old. That's her 13.

And then my Dad, who, when I woke up yesterday morning, was talking to the septic sucking people for over an hour- never looks at outward appearances.

And then there's my friend Jody, who merges both of above qualities- always smiling, organized, on top of things, who is never afraid to reach out to people.

I guess life is just a big group project- there will always be those who you will gain experience from working with, others who are complete slackers, and still others who you will get to teach.

and then sometimes its fun to watch people just to find bad fashion.