Writers manipulate
things
for their art
for their story
for their characters
for their imagery
They’ll do anything
for the experience
so they can write about it
Hey girl, stop right there
you ain’t no writer.
cc
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
Life Keeps On…
It keeps on keeping on. I don’t really use this to journal, not anymore at least. But, tonight, I felt like writing…something to note something, to signify something. I should be graduating from law school this weekend. I need to confirm I am academically cleared. I will not be attending graduation…
there are so many reasons why. And, quite frankly, I don’t want to talk about it. Everyone thinks it’s such a big deal and it is, but I just don’t want to document it. Things aren’t going exactly as planned right now in life and that’s okay but it doesn’t mean I have to be thrilled about it. I’m being honest. I’m appreciative of all I have. However, I am keeping my sights set on where I want to be…
willing to work twice as hard now, better late than never I suppose.
I’ve learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I’ve learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you’ll miss them when they’re gone from your life. I’ve learned that making a living is not the same thing as making a life. I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw some things back. I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one. I’ve learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn. I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.
Dr. Maya Angelou
“In the Sun” by Joseph Arthur
Vices: Productivity, Creativity, & Clarity.
I’m giving up my vices for a few days. If it goes well maybe I will extend it until next week. This includes: alcohol, spinach (smokage), twitter, facebook (although this isn’t much a vice anymore), and bad food.
I just want to detox my mind, body, and soul for a while and focus on what I need to get accomplished in the next couple of weeks. I’m not giving up tumblr because to be honest I don’t waste too much time on here. Also, I kind of want to blog more.
So…here’s to productivity, creativity, & clarity.
Life
I don’t post much about my day to day activities. But, I feel like it right now, so why not? This summer is speeding by. I only have 3 more weeks of my first summer gig and there are so many things I said I would do that I haven’t.
But, this isn’t necessarily bad. It just is. I’ve also done a number of things I didn’t think I would get to do. I’ve met some pretty rad individuals. Love is always present and interesting and frustrating and sad and wonderful. Makes me think of the L.F.O. song “summer girls…”
I know one thing however, I’m going to keep living vicariously through myself. I’m going to continue being unapologetic. I’m going to keep on keepin’ on, despite the obstacles.
I have some fun stuff ahead. I have a mysterious visitor this weekend. I welcome her. I’ve got trips to Philadelphia and New York coming up. And likely one of the 3: California, New Orleans, or Orlando. I’ve got to sit down and figure out which of the 3 cities is calling me. I think it’ll be California to be honest. I just cannot imagine seeing Lauryn Hill…
I think that is enough. It is for me, I think. Have a great weekend everyone. I know I will.
![youmightfindyourself:
“Bruce had me up to three miles a day, really at a good pace. We’d run the three miles in twenty-one or twenty-two minutes. Just under eight minutes a mile [Note: when running on his own in 1968, Lee would get his time down to six-and-a half minutes per mile]. So this morning he said to me “We’re going to go five.” I said, “Bruce, I can’t go five. I’m a helluva lot older than you are, and I can’t do five.” He said, “When we get to three, we’ll shift gears and it’s only two more and you’ll do it.” I said “Okay, hell, I’ll go for it.” So we get to three, we go into the fourth mile and I’m okay for three or four minutes, and then I really begin to give out. I’m tired, my heart’s pounding, I can’t go any more and so I say to him, “Bruce if I run any more,” —and we’re still running-“if I run any more I’m liable to have a heart attack and die.” He said, “Then die.” It made me so mad that I went the full five miles. Afterward I went to the shower and then I wanted to talk to him about it. I said, you know, “Why did you say that?” He said, “Because you might as well be dead. Seriously, if you always put limits on what you can do, physical or anything else, it’ll spread over into the rest of your life. It’ll spread into your work, into your morality, into your entire being. There are no limits. There are plateaus, but you must not stay there, you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you. A man must constantly exceed his level.”
—And this is why I love running so much. It can serve as a life metaphor, always.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l3o9imuIGB1qzu6nxo1_500.jpg)
“Bruce had me up to three miles a day, really at a good pace. We’d run the three miles in twenty-one or twenty-two minutes. Just under eight minutes a mile [Note: when running on his own in 1968, Lee would get his time down to six-and-a half minutes per mile]. So this morning he said to me “We’re going to go five.” I said, “Bruce, I can’t go five. I’m a helluva lot older than you are, and I can’t do five.” He said, “When we get to three, we’ll shift gears and it’s only two more and you’ll do it.” I said “Okay, hell, I’ll go for it.” So we get to three, we go into the fourth mile and I’m okay for three or four minutes, and then I really begin to give out. I’m tired, my heart’s pounding, I can’t go any more and so I say to him, “Bruce if I run any more,” —and we’re still running-“if I run any more I’m liable to have a heart attack and die.” He said, “Then die.” It made me so mad that I went the full five miles. Afterward I went to the shower and then I wanted to talk to him about it. I said, you know, “Why did you say that?” He said, “Because you might as well be dead. Seriously, if you always put limits on what you can do, physical or anything else, it’ll spread over into the rest of your life. It’ll spread into your work, into your morality, into your entire being. There are no limits. There are plateaus, but you must not stay there, you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you. A man must constantly exceed his level.”
—And this is why I love running so much. It can serve as a life metaphor, always.
Always be a poet, even in prose.
Charles Pierre Baudelaire
Giver, Giving, Gone.
I hate when I give a part of myself, a corner, a corner of a corner. You know, one of those dark areas that no one ever goes into, not even yourself. Well, I hate when I give that to someone, graciously, willingly, and they spit in my face or turn the other cheek or worse, brush it off. I hate it because as soon as it happens I start convincing myself that I hate them, that they weren’t worth it, when really, I’m trying to convince myself that I don’t hate myself and that I am worth it.
It’s not really about the other person, but it is. And, that overlap, that grey area, that’s where shit gets dark and complicated. Reconciliation can transform from noun to verb to nothing. Cause that’s how I feel, like nothing.
I’ve always been this giver, although, I’m usually disappointed, more so in myself than anything or anyone. Because, in my African tradition, when a man gets one of his eyes blinded by another, and then returns to that man only to have his second eye blinded, well, he is the fool. I can stop giving. I know that much. But, that’s saying stop trusting, stop believing, in essence, stop loving. And, what’s life without love anyway…you know, I know the cliche answer, but I’d like to investigate the other one, the one no one ever brings up. The crazy possibility that life without love, is, well…life.
I dont think about art when I’m working. I try to think about life….
JM Basquiat
(via modelseaticecream) (via tobia)
