so tired...

This semster has been overwhelming! So much so, that - I never finished this post. I am so glad that the fall '08 semester is over. edit, jan.11, 09

I am not great at writing but find it useful yet; hold up every time tempted; yes so tempted, to continue a thought yet finish one, giving pause to the forementioned thought.
-Kemper

Tonight I will paint. Next week I will get my camera fixed. The week after I will post a photograph, and you will know that I have not been idle.

Reading Bachelard makes me hyper-aware of space

For the past year, I've spent my days and weeks divided between my partner's home and my own. One day here, two days there, four here, and three there, and so on and so forth. This constant uprooting is... unsteadying. Without my own space, or at least one consistent set of walls in which to surround myself, I feel more vulnerable to the world, much like I did in my adolescence: the world can affect me; I am more highly suggestible, sensitive, and strung.

edited

The summer reading list has finally taken shape:
L'etranger, Albert Camus
The Myth of Sisyphus, Albert Camus (he and I share the same birthday, November 7 - how cool is that?)
The Poetics of Space, Gaston Bachelard
Literary Theory (An Introduction), Terry Eagleton
and I'll also make my first serious foray into the realm of Derrida and Heidegger.
Additions to the list:
100 Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Slowness, Milan Kundera
On Laughter and Forgetting, Milan Kundera
the entire 8-book series of Anne of Green Gables, Lucy Maud Montgomery

Since I can't afford to travel this summer, I've happily settled for the provincial image of myself under a tree in rec park, wearing a skirt, probably eating an apple, with a very good book in my hand. In this image, I also am probably not listening to music (in order to keep intact its quaintness), and probably ignoring my book at intervals in order to lazily watch tennis balls and long legs as they arc to and fro on the courts. I'll probably also try tennis once again, but only once (my legs are short).

Regression

So...I've been intent on saving this blog for a higher purpose - musings and writing on literature, politics, art, philosophy, you know, things other people will find worth reading , and things about which I, in the future, will find myself thinking, "well, gee, I sure was a smart little lass!"

Oh, intentions.

Today's existential dilemma is as follows:

Feist

vs Farrah

What to do? I can't wait for the fall preview in Vogue....only Vogue can tell me which is wiser...

I guess it's a question of values - do I value the tried-and-true of length plus bangs? Do I value keeping in step with the times, or possibly moving ahead of everybody else and going all-out in a completely different direction (that might wind up being far less flattering than the alternative)?

I'm going to go eat breakfast and begin L'etranger. Mersault will remind me that none of it really matters.

Happy Mother's Day

Joan Crawford marathon. I hope they finish up with Mommy Dearest.

Hello, my name is ______

Hello new blog. Let's keep in touch, shall we?