It's a ridiculously cloudy Thursday afternoon, and I keep glancing over to the window, noticing it getting darker and darker outside. I can almost smell the rain from inside. I'm one hour away from the weekend, trying to avoid eye contact with my professor so she doesn't ask me what I've done on my project since Tuesday. (The answer would be “pretty much nothing.”) I'm experiencing a massive case of burn-out-- drained and tired on almost every level. I waste studio time because I can't concentrate, and then I end up forcing myself to stay up super late to catch up, worsening the cycle.
I'm glad the weekend is almost here. I can rest soon. After I write the seven page philosophy paper that is due tomorrow of course...
Billie Holiday is really suiting my mood today, sitting here with tired eyes, watching the rain roll into the city, and waiting for this final hour of my work week to pass. Sometimes I wish I had an old phonograph to play me this song. A big smoky smelling red recliner chair. My cat sitting on my lap. A big teeshirt and leggings. Maybe some hot tea too.
I like going places in my imagination. In my head, I can live the life I want to.
I went to the midnight showing of Where The Wild Things Are tonight. What an interesting film! While at times I felt it gets a little childish with the way the monsters are handled, I often found myself stepping back and admiring it for the same reasons.
First of all, the soundtrack is GENIUS. Bravo Karen O. You nailed it.
Second, the casting is spot on-- the boy is simply adorable and delightful and spirited and absolutely makes the film. The perfect Max.
Third, what I loved most of all about the film is the way the director keeps making suggestions through cinematography, time, lighting, gestures that this is all imagination. There is a fascinating mix of feeling like what you are seeing IS real and it all being a beautiful daydream.
Some of the scenes were shot so beautifully and succinctly with my "dream-world" as a child that it shocked me. It was almost like opening a photo album of my childhood imagination. Things that now there is no physical evidence of, but that I can still recall at will just like any of my "real" memories.
Dark at times, but appropriately so... I really did enjoy it. Part of me wanted to knock it down after all the hype and the theatre packed with plaid shirts and dark-rimmed glasses-- but I think it stood its ground against my cynicism.
Also, the movie was part of a night that was really about me getting back to happiness--something I've been thinking about almost nonstop lately. Daydreaming about Scotland, fighting temptations to complain about my current station in life...
I've just been majorly caged lately. How appropriate that a night out with a friend (finally) is based around this film, which is all about finding happiness, imagination, being free, making mistakes, conflict/resolution, and contentment with loneliness.
Recent events have brought some new and interesting thoughts to the fore-front of my mind.
My opinion of the design industry has been in a consistent down-spiral, you could say starting as long as a year ago, but most notably just this semester. So how do I deal with what is truly inevitable about my future-- the need to accumulate enough money to be on my own, a design job, loan payments? I'm not going to disregard this degree that I've suffered so long for-- even if I do think it is a complete load of miserable rubbish. So how am I going to make this work?
My answer is a simple one: mystery.
I need to retain mystery. First of all, I need to stop complaining so much. No one understands me when I complain. No one cares when I complain. And frankly, it's not really making me feel any better either.
Second of all, if all I can think about is getting back to Edinburgh, then I need to make some decisions about what is going to happen come May. Am I going to decide to save up for a summer trip, or am I going to plan to move back for a job as soon as I graduate? My mother and I just recently (yesterday) had a really depressing argument about it. I asked for a ticket to go back over spring break as my Xmas present, and she shot me down saying that I've done enough jet-setting and now it's time to get serious. I have loan payments, and I need to use that spring break + every penny I have on finding a job for graduation.
But I miss my friends.
And my friends here are rarely around, and most of the time, do not make me happy.
So, something has to happen. Not saying I have the answers yet, but this is something I'm going to start seriously dealing with... starting now.
I'm just going to do my work. I'm going to try my best to ignore the inner-pangs for a boyfriend. For fun social interaction. I'm just going to stay home. And do my work. And not complain about it.
Sure, I'm riding a little bit on karma here. Hoping that if I just do what I'm supposed to, somehow it will work out for me.
I'm just tired of being unhappy, and thus it is time to actually make an effort toward something that might make feel good about life again-- instead of just stewing in my own shit all the time.
This is me and GOMAR just moments before we took a bus to the ghetto-ass east side and got stranded there in the rain. AKA: I was fearing for my life. We are researching for a project to re-brand the disaster that is Detroit Public Transit. This is us trying to decipher one of the only maps-- a block away from the bus depot. Classic.