In which our author has a moment of affirmation

Sixixis

Today was a very productive Saturday. I travelled down to Annapolis to have my hair cut into a very cute, very layered bob and then swung by the SJC campus to pick up my mail, etc. After a very informative visit to the bookshop (thanks to Everett for all the wonderful tips and conversation), I stopped in the library and came out with an armful of new reading material. I picked up a few art-related works by Ernst Cassier and Susanne Langer, Cousin Bette by Balzac and Les Fleurs du Mal which I unfortunately do not own myself. I've been working through the Arts of the Beautiful and the Book of Disquiet, both of which I've previously written about, but I've also picked up Hardy's Far from the Madding Crowd for a little much-needed narrative. Pessoa was getting distinctly too inward and contemplative for me, although I've been finding some very interesting passages in his entries.

When I returned home (after picking up some new music), I decided to dust off my sewing machine this weekend in preparation for my newfound interest in beginning and finishing some creative projects. I tailored a pair of bootcut black wash jeans to make then skinny and slightly cropped (much cooler this way), mended some cardigans, fixed a few buttons, and remembered how to use all of the bells and whistles on my machine. I've been embroidering again as well, mostly little test projects before I attempt the larger one I have planned.

The past year has been a difficult one for me, I'm not living on my own, two of my three jobs hold little true interest to me, and the one that does unfortunately only requires a small fraction of my time and energy. To make matters worse, I've been treating the past two years, which have been in between school programs, as if they're already finished, unfertile, and forgettable. It's regrettable, and it was only recently that I even realized that. New York was fun and interesting for it's own reasons, but I wasn't living with very much purpose when I was there. Since moving home and living in Maryland again, my interest in making the most out of each day has dwindled to a very sad little flame. My reading has dropped off, especially my scholarly reading and attempts at analysis and comprehension. I have been engaged in virtually no creative projects and sporadic social encounters. There are, of course, a dozen decent reasons for all of this, but the essential fact is that they're no longer good enough. There is no reason to be treating my time in this beautiful house, with my much-loved family, as an interim between what I've already accomplished and what I plan to do.

So I'm going to start seizing my time, making goals, thinking up projects, executing them, and having a joyful time while doing it all. I'm limited in resources and in social opportunities (...what I would give to have my friends not quite so far-flung across the country...), but I shouldn't be limited in creativity and willpower.


So here's to new pages being turned!