word.

The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling
of the words being there, written in
invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.
..::VLADIMIR NABAKOV::..

On the first page of my third grade journal I wrote the name of my crush upside-down and scribbled through on the bottom margin, so sure of such top-notch security. This weekend I discovered that I did the same on page fifty-three of my seventeen-year-old self, only by then I'd added the measure of writing it out in French. Yeah, you would hope I would've just grown out of it by then.

At least I've held on to the journal writing, though. And with these new additions to my shelf, I couldn't be more excited to carry on: they're custom made, sized and fit to my travel plans. Thanks to a darling duo (discovered through etsy but only blocks away from my own apartment), my Bargain Basement finds have new life, stacked full of blank pages and possibility. Oh, how I heart them.

So if you're in the neighborhood, or up for the shipping, hop on over to joshuaandjulielee. You'll help out an artsy couple on their way to their BFAs and snag a crazy-cool journal. As they would say, Oh Happy Day!

TO DO:

write linguistics paper
write calligraphy paper
finish calligraphy project
study for linguistics final
study for christianity final
update resume
outline letter of intent
submit application
pack up apartment

WHAT I'VE DONE:

finished art card
read the board
emailed Nicole
finished NYT crossword
surfed etsy
wandered about the bookstore
stopped by Annie's office
watched the sunset
downloaded Adele
listened to Velvet Underground
changed my ringtone
wished it were Friday
and
blogged about it, too.

When did it become so easy to procrastinate? And why the week of finals? I mean, these things have actual deadlines.

spinning wheel got to go round

"He liked to observe emotions; they were like
red lanterns strung along the dark unknown
of another's personality, marking vulnerable points."

Definitely cried in Kung Fu Panda last night. Laughed the full two hours of the latest YTS gathering. Wrote lyrics for my sister's new song. Booked hostels across Europe while listening to Atlanta gospel. Sent off two letters to opposite sides of the globe; listened to Papa's stories of sleeping on luggage racks and giving away blue jeans in the Soviet states. Yeah, it's been one of those weeks.

Which made it a little more difficult to art to the third prompt: I am. With the above tally, I am:

::: emotionally unstable.
::: so loved.
::: in complete awe of my sister's musical ways.
::: crazy-excited.
::: missing my missionaries.
::: feeling a little sentimental.

Throw in the growing panic of a term ending all too soon and a countdown nearing the fortnight mark, and this card is something of a mess. And two days late. But here all the same.

And now I get to go write a paper on linguistics, huzzah!

{lyrics: olivia | london map: cavallini | quote: ayn rand | everything else: my own}

following the light of the sun, we left the old world

I tend to throw about the phrase "best friend" a lot; I think we all do. My sisters are my best friends. My parents are my best friends. Oh, she's my best friend. He's my best friend. No way! We're best friends! etc, etc. More often than not, I actually think the label's accurate. I have a lot of wonderful people in my life, and for each of their own reasons, they fit the phrase.

But for the sake of the story, my best friend left this morning. Boarded his plane a mere fifteen minutes ago. Within the day he'll arrive in São Paolo and then onto Belém where he'll spend the next two years serving as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. And he's going to be brilliant. But boy, I'm going to miss him.

It's funny, when I think about it. He'll only be gone as long as we've known each other. But Marcus is the sort that I feel I've known all my life, and we've packed our share of adventure into these past years. We connected over Jeeves & Wooster, Gill Sans, and Steve Jobs. We steal books off each other's shelves, swap emails with subjects like "In Event of Moon Disaster" or "RIP, Türkmenbaşy" on a daily basis. We plan Walk Trips when gas prices get too high and throw Geography Parties when there's studying to be done. At one point we spent an entire week corresponding only in Cricket terms. This weekend, he took me out for Thai and kept me laughing with his NPR impressions, nearly falling out of my chair at his spot-on Arianna Huffington (hey, I never said we were cool).

Marcus, you won't read this. Or at least not for a long, long time. But if our telepathy powers prove strong enough, you'll know what I'm trying to say: a strange combination of the embarrassing Aw shux boi uz'll b missed, a cheery Pip-pip!, and, of course, I love you. I'll see you . . . in the future! (The one with the rocket-cars.)

I'm made of atoms, and you're made of atoms, and we're all in this together

After a full day of reunions and farewells, answering week two's "what's powerful to you?" was easy. Connections. Roots. Shared History. Friends. I've been thinking about the words I read a few weeks ago---"Life sometimes adopts a theme for a while, doesn't it? Where for a few weeks, everything you hear, see, and feel seems to be focused on the same thing"---and can't get you guys out of my head.

{this will be a sentimental post.}

Kit's off to Singapore. David's writing a book. Hannah's shooting weddings across the country, Jenny's just back from Paris and heading into the summer theatre season. Anna's in love and Marcus leaves for Brazil all too soon. But today we filled up church pews and a summer afternoon; just us, all us. Gathering for goodbyes in the face of so many wild, new hellos.

And I loved that we have kept close despite all these different directions, that we pick up conversations where they left off and start new ones to finish the next time. I love that we're all doing what we love and so happy for each other's choices. I love the peace and the calm that I feel just to be in the same space with you. You are the very souls that make me so often want to sing, "humanity!", and you, my friends, are powerful.

So here's to the Nerd Herd, the B.E.A., and the Heartbeat. And the So Much More yet to come.

(ooo, baby, baby) it's a wild world

Sometimes, late at night, with the open windows and the crickets and the sprinklers and the pool laughter, I wonder why I'm still in school. But look at all I'm learning!


1::: FORGET THE TOASTER.

Our sad little excuse for an appliance called it quits yesterday, leaving me with a slice of wheat about two seconds warm and not all that appetizing. I'd just finished buttering it when I remembered the oven, hit the broil button, and tried my luck.

End result? I am never going back. The oven method not only toasts your bread to your individual ideas of toasting perfection, but the pre-buttering adds a to-die-for carmelized crunch.

2::: YOU JUST NEVER KNOW (UNTIL YOU ASK)

You can live with a person a full eight weeks and not know much more than their music taste or their cereal choice (if that). Last night, I came back from a late run to find our top floor in complete disarray and enough glitter and metal to outfit a backstage tour. Turns out Mandy only recently became the prim law student in organic neutrals and sensible footwear. In her other life, she was a rock star.

Or, at least that's what it felt like. For the next two hours we sorted through her closet, organizing the evidence into thrift shop, costume closet, and just-for-the-record piles while Mandy filled me in on her former life. With the last garbage bag tied down just past one a.m., she yawned with a sheepish smile. "Yeah, you caught me at kind of an interesting turning point," she admitted.

3::: MAKE WAY FOR DUCKLINGS

Take advantage of location. If you live ten steps from a Duck Pond, go. Especially in the Spring. When their are three (3!) different fowl families to choose from, palm-sized packages of outlandish entertainment.

Just make sure to set aside some time---this week, only meaning to stop for a second's look, I ended up staying a full half hour, completely enthralled. My favorite little guy couldn't quite make it up out of the water and continually toppled backwards off the bank in a series of ridiculous maneuvers.

3 1/2 ::: I'M EIGHTY-FIVE YEARS THREE MONTHS AND A DAY!

This gets the .5 because it's something I only wish I knew---how exactly old am I? Because I'd really rather love to be able to begin each day like Dylan Thomas's Mary Ann Sailors.

*edit: I'm twenty years two months and twenty-three days! (I guess this is something I could've figured out before the necessary edit, but I don't usually do numbers. At all.)


So much to do, to see, to learn! And with only two weeks to go, it's not all bad.

it's all in the cards

A lot of my life seems to be a blank slate at the moment; this final month is complete limbo, just in-between my old life and the new. July will find me jetlagged and tongue-tied, On My Own in the crazy crush of the UK. These past few weeks of packing lists have got me thinking about the bigger Things To Do, the scribbled life goals I keep folded away without a check in the box. Some deserve the neglect, FUTURE stamped loud and clear across their due dates, but most are a pathetic MEA CULPA. This is one of them.

I've long, long, long admired the world of Emily Falconbridge, especially her mini art journal challenge. Brilliant, I'd say, this is exactly the sort of thing I want to do. After which, inexcusably, I wouldn't. Well, that time is past. Today marks Week One.


For the next year I'll be art-journaling poker style, one card-sized collage per week. With a few months of traveling ahead, I figured this would be the perfect time to both set aside specific time for creating and keep it pocket-sized. Last night I gessoed a deck of Bicycle Playing Cards and stitched a little pouch to hold it all together, and today I pulled out the seven of spades to answer this week's prompt: something you are proud of.

Yep, I'm proud of the future. Which is rather forward, but true all the same. I'm not used to such a big jump without my friends and family close by, so this is all new and (to be honest) totally terrifying. And that's where the deep breath and the blind leap comes in. Huzzah!