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he took one look at my face and said i can fix that hole in you [06 Jun 2009|01:08pm] . . .two days. 4 entered the dream| hum a tired symphony

faceless clock [05 Mar 2009|10:57am] i'm an ever rolling wheel, without a destination real. i'm an ever spinning top, whirling around until i drop. oh but what am i to do, my mind is in a whirlpool. give me a little hope, one small thing to cling to. ...you got me going in circles. ...he got me really into this song. i never gave a shit about this kind of music. i've never fought so much. i know that's abnormal. so i can't tell if when we fight, it's normal or abnormal. i wish someone could answer that question for me. [granted it's not always like this but sometimes it is and when it is i can't stand it. hum a tired symphony

i'm fine. for real this time. [20 Jan 2009|05:05pm] it's been three months. i will confess: my anger for him has not gone away. but my love has. at least in the romantic sense. and someone new came along just at the right time. he's right, it's the right time. and i want to be right for him. i will walk through these next few days/weeks with my fingers and toes crossed. i think he might be good for me. [pleasebegoodforme.] 2 entered the dream| hum a tired symphony

i'm fine. [05 Jan 2009|11:45am] i saw his mum in the post office today. she wished me a happy new year and asked how i had been. she held my hand really close, ran her hand over my cheek, and told me she was so sorry. she asked how i was doing. i managed pursed smiles and half-meaningful sentiments about how being away for a month helped, and how we only see each other for ten minutes a day [we're both so busy] and that i'm fine. i'm fine. why wouldn't i be fine? of course i am. she had tears in her eyes. i had to walk away before i started to cry. and i torture myself with songs that remind me of him. i'll only admit it here: this is the hardest thing i've ever done. 2 entered the dream| hum a tired symphony

in defense of the actor [21 Dec 2008|07:53pm] while i am neither an actor nor ignorant of the pitfalls that often befall them, which they are particularly susceptible to [arrogance and egotism in particular], i write on their behalf for i feel it is particularly relevant in the here and now. firstly, i must make it quite clear that i do not stand in the defense of what peter brook terms hack actors - ones that simply use bags of tricks and passively carry on the tradition of acting simply for its own sake and for their own gain and not for the art itself. but for those who do not fit this bill, for those who strive to utilize their innate talents to promote the political, the controversial, the artful, the beautiful, the ugly, and the questions that stem from all these and more, these are the ones i stand for. this is because acting, it has occurred to me, might possibly the most difficult of all the arts when exceeded to its maximum. [and i use such a phrase not accidentally, for when theatre is assembled like a puzzle with all its elemental pieces in the right places at the right time, its whole is greater than the sum of its parts.] this is not meant to be demeaning to any other artist of any other medium. the arts are great and should never cease to exist. but in most other art forms, the art is separate from the artist. a painter is the artist. the painter has their canvas, which is the art. for an actor must always be simultaneously art and an artist. an actor must mold his or herself to the construction and confines of a theatrical piece, leave the ego at the door, becoming one of the essential pieces of one grand work of art. this is how he or she is art. but an actor must also be constantly aware of his or her personal traits, always be in control, never as a puppet but aware of the effect he or she is having on all that surround, constantly perfecting the art he or she is helping to create. thus the actor is also an artist. of course not all actors bring these expectations to light. this is why acting as an art is not always respected, but should be. 1 entered the dream| hum a tired symphony

mais je ne connais jamais [14 Dec 2008|11:56pm] due to silly little sources stumbled upon online i have found myself immersed in french culture. namely, antique, nostalgic, shabby-chic, and others. granted, i have always been somewhat obsessed. but now i'm reaallly obsessed. and i'm excited for the play next semester because it's set in the 20's and from that, i predict a completely self obsessed photoshoot involving me, my [hopefully] bob haircut, pearls, red lipstick, and a bit of disheveled [but lovely] inspiration. i need to take this break to think of me for a bit. i need to create so badly. i'm getting my sister to drive me to portland tomorrow to pick up some art supplies. i shouldn't be spending money. but the drive to create sometimes comes first. hum a tired symphony

[i am] small as a wish in a well. [19 Nov 2008|01:18am] i am quite lucky that class does not start for me until 1:00 mondays and wednesdays. i am up too late at night listening to music. i theorize that i'm making up for lost time. see, during rehearsal periods, what with school and TA stuff, i could never listen to my music. i didn't even have time for that. so now i've sat here and mindlessly downloaded [illegally or legally, you'll never know...] so many songs. artists that are old and new for me. but now i'm sticking to an old favourite. iron and wine. this is terribly cliche and corny but, whenever i think of their music, even just to imagine it, i feel the same way i do when i slide my body into a bath that's just right, or i see candles flickering in the darkness, or i taste something sweet and terrible at the same time. iron and wine makes me feel so alive. simply put. [how can one man be so brilliant?] i miss writing music. slash, i miss having time to write music. now i know where all the cliche "time in a bottle" inspirations came from. ...i just had a thought. how crazy would it be to go diving in the waters by the dykes? pretty crazy? thought so. i'm going to make myself get up tomorrow morning to take a long walk. i need that. i need a lot of things that i've been depriving myself of needlessly. like stubborn boys with big green eyes, we'll see e v e r y t h i n g. hum a tired symphony

you might be tired but i'm not through fanning the flame [13 Nov 2008|11:37am] the library can be jading, depending on who decides to sit next to you in the little cubicles. strange guys with that laugh, that jock laugh. i'm sorry to stereotype but i have no idea how else to explain it. by the way, it is done. [it has been for a while but i needed to say it here.] he and i were lovely together but it wore out its welcome. from a memory in the back of my head [i don't know where specifically] i see a cartoon wheel, wooden with spokes and it's running along dirt roads peppered with rocks and potholes, and the wheel eventually turns to dust. that's what it was like. it wasn't all at once. it was so eventual. which i think is what helped me get over it. i'm glad for it, minus the pain, i'm truly glad. it's allowed me to branch out a bit more and get to know a few others. [and maybe one a bit too much already.] but i digress. i'll let this one ferment for a while before i dive in. i want some new music. really good music that i can fall in love with. also, i need a new journal. my [real life] journal ran out of pages. too bad there's this thing called money that i'm completely devoid of. ... i should just summarize. through all my self inflicted doubt and owies, i'm okay. i'm happy. and i shouldn't forget that as often as i do. hum a tired symphony

[22 Sep 2008|10:09am] in a cafe which is oddly full of men, mostly over 50. there is one sore thumb in the group, and surprisingly with my being female it's not me. in a room full of modest jackets, fleece, sweaters, and socks pulled over cords, he's dressed in a suit and tie, brownish grey. he eats a muffin the way he must write a report, and looks at almost nothing and certainly no one. hands folded. literally. as in prayer. clears his throat as if to speak but says nothing. a shiny wristwatch with a leather band. not even a paper to read. clears his throat again. but his shoes don't match his suit. they are far too casual. i wonder if this is his downfall, what gives him away. maybe he saw me looking, maybe i made him uncomfortable. he walked away with his shoes barely making a sound. hum a tired symphony

an ancient injury [23 Aug 2008|10:44am] he stood looking through the lace at the face on the conquered moon and counting all the cars going up the hill and the stars on my window sill there are still more reasons why i love him and i feel like I'm just being born like a shiny light breaking in a storm there are so many reasons why i love him. joni mitchell is, and always will be, better at voicing things than i. (or most others for that matter.) it's only a day over a week now. i woke up late again. had very strange dreams again. i wonder if those will cease when i move again. i want to start packing today. for once i have the motivation. there is no one in the house now but me and my music. no one in the house now but me and my music and my obligations. i am poured over the brim with obligation. and that won't stop. i think i know what my body and soul will need at the end of this year. i want to go live in simplicity again. i did it for one long weekend, and it wasn't even to the extent of simplicity that i desire. but it was close. and i want to ask jesse if we can go to mahone bay for a long weekend again. preferably before rehearsals begin. because it's then that i will be stripped of my life. when we were there, i used to get up before everyone else, go for a long walk. sit on the bridge over the river, write. ponder about how this would be a wonderful place for yoga. come back to the house, where everyone else was sitting on the porch, watching the sun rise and the dew on the grass desintigrate into the air, drinking coffee, playing catch with ruby, and i could lean in to him and feel like there was nothing else in the world. i wish i lived in mahone bay. i just made myself miss it more. hum a tired symphony

won't make fire out of clay, or other inventions [04 Aug 2008|12:21am] this misery made beautiful right before our eyes will mercy be revealed or blind us where we stand? i've been listening to a lot of old music that i listened to when i was thirteen or so. sarah is an old, wonderful standby. it's lyrics like these that make me understand a bit more why my friend from switzerland, when i asked him why not write his song lyrics in german - his native tongue - he replied that english was much pretty. most times i'd be inclined to disagree. but sometimes... when twisted and manipulated the right way, i'd agree. hum a tired symphony

god, won't you please hold me, release me, show me, the meaning of mercy, let me loose [01 Aug 2008|08:32pm] and i won't be held down i won't be held back i will lead with my faith. he doesn't understand me, he said. every time he thinks he does, i do something to baffle him. i felt wanted, i felt loved. but i feel that around him. with him. ( not away from him. ) hum a tired symphony

and it won't be too soon [21 Jul 2008|10:11pm] five days. pleasenow. hum a tired symphony

love - it'll make you a man, then she'll make you a child again [08 Jul 2008|09:59am] i feel loved. but not wanted. does that make sense? these two have somehow detatched themselves in the last few days. but it doesn't alter me in any way. i still want to. and for the first time in my life, i regret. i regret the months in which i left him. if i could do it over again, he'd be there by my side. the summer is going on too long. hum a tired symphony

sustainable life [03 Jul 2008|04:56pm] i think i remember reading somewhere in early elementary biology about the sustainability of nature, and how even a forest that is burnt down to the ground, twenty years from now, will look brand-new and full of green life. i have buoyancy and strength so i don't think it will take me twenty years, but i've been burnt down by the person i'd last expect it from. but i look forward to my green life. and i will not abandon him, however crazy i may be for it. hum a tired symphony

if i kiss you where it's sore [19 Jun 2008|01:39pm] i feel better. [just an fyi.] in other news, i miss my music badly. my sisters and i differ so much in taste. i can tolerate it for a long time, but frankly, not sure how much longer. i need a new computer so that i don't have to cope anymore. why do things cost so much? i mean, really. it's quite unnecessary. hum a tired symphony

and i still dream in colour even though i sing the blues [16 Jun 2008|08:36am] don't misunderstand. he hasn't left me. i don't think he will. but i'm terrified. i'm bewildered and frightened out of my mind. i cry until my eyes hurt and then i write a love song. i have never said it. not here. i love him more than even i know. ( why must he be so beautiful? ) hum a tired symphony

hide? [12 May 2008|06:12pm] ... or not to hide? i don't know. hum a tired symphony

your face is faded but lingers on because light strikes a deal with each coming night [05 May 2008|01:33pm] in maritime tradition i should be writing about how lonesome i am. about how tired my eyes feel from staring anywhere for any length of time in a space that does not reveal him. but all the reasons i began writing songs [to contain my sorrow and inner turmoil] are slowly dissolving like liquid metal and while i'm losing reason for my guitar sadness is finding me a stranger and emptiness knows me as a recluse i will fade from my former weariness and find solace in his shadow. i love him and little else exists. 1 entered the dream| hum a tired symphony

"art is the daughter of freedom." [15 Apr 2008|06:16pm] thisistheonlyplacei'llsayit. i swear. i'm just undecided. i had several good/bad things happen today. my mom sent me a little "i love you" note with ten dollars tucked in it. good. i didn't get the part i wanted in either play i auditioned for. bad. i did get something in both, so i should be appreciative. good. i don't know yet if i'll get dramaturg as well for one of them. unsure. i went out for lunch with garrow and abi, and will go out again tonight. good. the paper i wrote for theory and crit that i was expecting a C+ on came back as an A. he [the prof] even took a quote from it, blew it up, and posted it on his office door.good. but the above just exemplifies the point i'm going to make, even more so. i don't have much to complain about. i have my life set up relatively well at the moment. i should be grateful. a) i need to stop complaining. b) i need to stop being so bitter. c) worse, i need to stop dragging others into both a and b. so shut me up if i start. hum a tired symphony

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