Finally.

As of tomorrow I will be roommateless. This sums up how I feel about it.

Too Many Ideas at Once.

I had good intentions this summer to be productive and make lots of art, but as usual, I get one thing started and then get busy with something else. There are quite a few unfinished projects sitting around my apartment gathering dust. And I do feel bad about that.

My mom asked me to do this painting of flowers in earth tones and lime green to match our living room. I've promised her that I'll have it finished by the time I go home to visit in August. It's oil paint and the canvas is 5'x3'.
I started it in June (I'm such a procrastinator!)

Elderly at 19.

These days I'm always too young or too old.
I'm not 19 enough.
I was the little kid who told other kids on the playground not to run with their shoelaces untied. It's dangerous.
The other day the mailman asked me how many children I had and it freaked me out.
Years ago I was at the grocery store with my dad when a lady asked how old I was. He said I was 8 going on 38.
I'm too much like my mom, too soon.
I need to plan less, make less lists. I have post-it notes all over.
I think I need to be more adventurous. I certainly wish I was more of a free spirit.
I don't want to look back on my college years and regret that I didn't have as much fun as possible.
There's a belle & sebastian song that goes "If I could do just one imperfect thing I'd be happy".

geez.

I spend most of my day at work answering the phone. I'm a secretary. Some people who call are so unkind and feel that it's okay to take their frustration out on me. Most of the time
I've not met these people before. So technically we're strangers and therefore my first impression of you is a very poor one. To these people I try and sound extra nice, disgustingly cheery in the hopes that maybe they'll learn a thing or two.

At least I've learned how a little kindness can instantly improve someone's day.

Nostalgia.

I just can't get enough of old family photos. They're beautiful. Like my grandma says, they don't make them like that anymore. The top photo is my Dad, his sister, and my Grandma Rickard ca. 1958 in Columbus. As a kid, my Dad never went anywhere without a cowboy hat. We still have the little yellow plastic gun he carried around. My mom's baby picture is from 1956. My grandparents look so young, though they weren't much older than I am now.

I used to think that colors, back in the day, were like the photos. Real life was either black & white or those faded earth tones of photos from my parents high school days in the 1970s. I still wish that that were true.

Since hearing the news a few months ago, I continue to mourn over the loss of Polaroids. I hope there are many others who are as upset about this as I am. How can Kodak just stop making Polaroid film like it's no big deal?

My Top 11 Life Goals

As of Saturday July 19, 2008, in no particular order. (they are subject to change)

1. Be on Jeopardy.
2. See a Vermeer in person.
3. Have a family & career that I love.
4. Meet and/or hug Oprah.
5. Own a work by Aminah Robinson.
6. Spend an entire day at the Musee d'Orsay.
7. Visit India.
8. Live in a New England farmhouse with a bright yellow front door.
9. See Mary Cassatt's Breakfast in Bed (1897).
10. Be a cake sculptor on the show Ace of Cakes.
11. Take a cross country road trip.

Chief Modern Poets of England & America

I bought a book of poetry at an antique store last weekend. It was published in 1936. Sometime between then and now someone read through all of the poems and annotated them, including their interpretation of the meaning of each. It's a strange thing to read a poem, find a certain message in it, and then compare that to what this person was thinking, oh, maybe seventy years prior. Sometimes we were thinking the same things. I like picking up this book knowing that it's been so carefully studied and appreciated before.

Here's one of my favorites from the poet Amy Lowell-
A Gift

See! I give myself to you, Beloved!
My words are little jars
For you to take and put upon a shelf.
Their shapes are quaint and beautiful,
And they have many pleasant colours and lustres
To recommend them.
Also the scent from them fills the room
With sweetness of flowers and crushed grasses.

When I shall have given you the last one,
You will have the whole of me,
But I shall be dead.

Summertime.

"I never dared to be radical when young for fear it would make me conservative when old."
- Robert Frost

Today was a beautiful day in Columbus. Perfect weather. It made me kinda homesick. Yesterday was my mom's birthday and tomorrow is my parent's 24th anniversary. I would love to be home with them right now, frolicking in the country and enjoying all the green that summer has to offer. The things I loved about summertime during my childhood are distant. Sidewalk chalk, watching my dad mow the lawn, smelling the grass on him when he'd come in for dinner.

Sometimes the city is lovely, but it seems as if I'm walled off from the real world by tall buildings. In a box of sorts. City blocks. I shouldn't complain, it's home for now.

Dear Lord.

It'd be okay with me if I never heard the soundrack to RENT ever again. Also if I never go skiing, that'd be fine too.

the 4th of July.

I love celebrating holidays in a small town. When the center of town is lined with flags and everyone knows everyone else. The Chippewa Lake, Ohio Independence day parade is like a classic example of Americana. I knew most of the people watching the parade and most of the people in the parade (my sister's in the marching band).

There was an adorable little girl standing next to me who wasn't as fast as the older kids when it came to gathering candy, so I helped her out.

Spent the evening at a barbecue with cousins and more 4th of July wonderfulness. S'mores, hot dogs, sparklers, lightening bugs, fireworks. It was a lovely day.