Brother Sam and I drove back to CH//Carrboro yesterday. I got back and immediately tore apart my room, and made a bigger mess of everything than before. Hours later, a new room emerged and I collapsed in bed.
I fell asleep early and woke up feeling like a lot of things were possible this morning. Today has already been filled entirely with being BACK. Back to the mess, the fun, the long walks in the rain, the printing, the physical therapy and doctors appointments, the long chats with advisers, and the trying to get organized.
I took this photo of the taco truck beside my house last semester. I like this place and like taking photos with my film camera(s).
It feels good to be back. Even in the rain, the mud, and the quiet.
I have no idea what this season will bring. I feel that half of me has never been more ready and the other half is protesting . . . everything.
“Living is like tearing through a museum. Not until later do you really start absorbing what you saw, thinking about it, looking it up in a book, and remembering – because you can’t take it in all at once.” – Audrey Hepburn
Happy Monday. Stay warm everyone!
Happy first of November! It looks like this month will be:
Big book of contemporary poetry | hot tea | plans for next semester | work | other kind of work | one-hour-of-sleep-kind-of-days | celebrations | fending off the cold rain | confused by the weather all around | making connections | rediscovering what health looks like in winter | learning to love through distance and how to talk on skype and a phone | setting aside time for leisure|
Today’s rain makes me feel more exhausted than ever. Last night, I celebrated Halloween the best way I know how (by dressing up as a man *which turned out to be a very empowering, and fascinating couple of hours) and dancing with the good ones. This morning, after only a few heavy hours of sleep, I was back at it -> writing and editing an essay before a class where we learned how to make a decent souffle.
If the rest of November is anything like today, it will be filled with exciting times (*Phantogram tonight with brother Sam, Danny and Immy) and a lot of hard work. The rest of this weekend involves a few good meals, some projects, some essay-writing, and trying to remember how to correctly wear a sari.
The only thing one can give an artist is leisure in which to work. To give an artist leisure is actually to take part in his creation. -Ezra Pound
Hitting the road with J, Sam, and a pup this afternoon!
We’re off to Charlottesville and then camping with the family. Yes, the whole Farson-Pratt-Gray family.
We’re going to celebrate b/c it’s a miracle after all (*finding a weekend that worked)!
[Photo: Early morning after camping at Jordan Lake//Grace Farson]
In short, my weekend looked something like this:
Wet | Bright | Smiley | Cozy | Soft to the touch |
Friday = class at Duke//biscuits//rock quarry (*beauty) // trying to learn how to skip stones//Indian buffet lunch//comedy show, etc.
Saturday = house meeting// cleaning//morning light//pizza with Kels, Dad, Mom, and Sam (*just missing this one) //painting my room//more good food//sound night’s sleep in a big bed at the Carolina Inn.
Sunday= personal alarm clock at the Inn (*aka, a man in a wig)// Weaver breakfast// church in a ballpark with the family (*overwhelming)// Cuban food//organizing newly painted room// study time with Sarah //family study with Emily and Sam.
“Having a lover/friend who regards you as a living growing criatura, being, just as much as the tree from the ground, or a ficus in the house, or a rose garden out in the side yard… having a lover and friends who look at you as a true living breathing entity, one that is human but made of very fine and moist and magical things as well… a lover and friends who support the ciatura in you… these are the people you are looking for. They will be the friends of your soul for life. Mindful choosing of friends and lovers, not to mention teachers, is critical to remaining conscious, remaining intuitive, remaining in charge of the fiery light that sees and knows.”
– Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves
[Photos: Pretty NC days at the quarry//Grace Farson]