Corrected

I really don't understand what it is with some people.
I have certain "friends" who have this strange ability to make me feel like I'm burdening them somehow by asking to spend time with them, or even just wanting to chat with them. What's with that?
Truthfully, that is why there are a lot of people with whom I don't keep in touch anymore. I hate the feeling that there is not a mutual "interest." I guess what it comes down to is that if one is not willing to put an equal effort into a friendship (just as it is with any relationship) then it really isn't worth it.

What is happening exactly? I realize people change, but there are some changes that I can't quite understand. When two people lose that mutual interest things begin to fall apart. Why does that happen?
I know I have changed. But I always hoped it was for the better; now I wonder if that is really true.

I was thinking today about how incredible it would be to move somewhere far away. I am not a world traveler (I'm hardly even a country traveler) and the idea scares me to death -- but in that way it would be so thrilling and terrifying and probably wonderful. To go and build your life in a foreign place amongst strangers -- build your life almost from scratch. What would that be like? I feel that if I could ever sum up the courage to do something so insane, I would learn so much. So many people have done it before -- most of my friends have. What would happen if I followed that lead?

I shudder. Here is my last month of college. I feel as though this semester were lasting ages -- both because I can't wait for it to finally be over, and because after this few weeks, hello there's reality and an adult life for which only I am responsible. Goodness gracious.

I'm not allowed to run away and join the circus, am I? How about be a hermit? Join a cloister? I am not ready for real life yet. It scares me to death, only I didn't want to admit it before.

Just Something

Isn't it funny how people surprise you sometimes?
Good or bad, I've seen it both ways.

The best though, are those who upon first impression seem... well, sort of vacant. And then you come upon something (never mind what or where you found it) that proves just how wrong you were -- and just how deep and complex they really are. I love to be blown away by such things. Within the realm of human relationships, it's what I live for.

Today was such a weird, creepy, unnerving day. Actually, I guess it was pretty awful. I woke up feeling queasy... and it was almost as if that physical feeling interrupted and invaded my brain too. Kind of like, my body felt so gross and tired and then it seeped into my emotional state and suddenly I felt this creepy sense of depression and foreboding.

Then again, maybe it was just the weather. Creepy weather we've had today -- ominous clouds blowing in on the howling wind, but not really dropping any rain or threatening any thunder (which really might have been refreshing.) And anyway, it kind of makes me sad how much the weather affects my mood.

But then I got a letter from one of my best friends currently in West Africa for the Peace Corps. And that just seemed to make everything better somehow; things seemed suddenly more normal. Made me realize that this nasty day wasn't going to last any longer than twenty-four hours. Then tomorrow comes.

How refreshing to actually write in my blog again! After some bloody *ahem* decided to come along and leave behind some self-righteous b.s. to try to make me feel about two inches tall, I'd been kind of wary about even writing here again. For heaven's sake, you know -- there's ALWAYS someone who's just got to stir up trouble and ruin someone else's peace. It's like a perverted thrill for some people, offering their unwanted "two-cents." And those people are usually the ones who like to think they're the be-all and end-all of creation. Bloody crap.

I was thinking earlier today about how I spend so much of my time writing and drawing and painting and posting. And going back and looking at it all over and over again. It is almost as if I'm trying to figure myself out. You know how everyone is always blabbing on and on about "discovering" oneself and "learning about" oneself -- through various means of spiritual exercises and meditation and journals and all that.
I've written pages and pages of papers and anecdotes and kept about a million sketch books and I keep going back to them and rereading as though I were trying to understand what I meant by all of it. Where it came from and if it's any good? Most of what I write isn't very clear and organized and ideas that become artwork usually have some pretty ambiguous concept behind it. So I have to keep going back to it. It's weird.

Cold Water

Curses

I hate you, Geology!

Abtoxious

I'm not usually this negative. Really. I've tried to put the complaining aside and laugh about everything, since lately everyone's been telling me that's the way to stay healthy. And sane.

But the frustration has really begun to build up. It has so much to do with this college! I'm starting to dislike the people here. I feel like I can't be myself! Especially when it comes to the one thing I love, and that is making art.

I mean, I was really starting to branch out and try new things and challenge myself at the BCA. There, my work felt SO dull and "traditional," when everyone was so free and easy expressing themselves in any way they could. I had a very long conversation with a friend about it, as he is more of a traditionalist where fine art is concerned. But then, at the end of the semester, I felt like I'd really accomplished something; I was moving in a new and exciting direction.

And then I come back to Gustavus.
And suddenly I feel all these odd expressions and weird comments when it's my turn to have my work critiqued. It's all, "what is this supposed to mean?" "why did you do it this way and not this way?" "why did you decide to repaint that?" "why not try this? I think it would work better." Every single minute detail broken apart and analyzed and DEAR LORD IN HEAVEN GRANT ME PATIENCE.
Honestly. Do I really have to explain every little aspect of a painting to you in order for it to make sense? I hate critiques with the art department profs, but especially with the other art majors. I don't feel I should HAVE to explain why I included representational aspects and abstract aspects, or why that eye in that portrait is painted that color and not some other color. REALLY. It's just so much like... talking about your work until it doesn't even feel like it's yours anymore -- it's alien. Foreign. ALL of the sublimity gone out of it, and now it's empty.

Why is that necessary? Geez, I've never had this problem before. I guess that's because I never tried anything different before. It's always been... same ol', same ol'... just what everyone else is doing. Whatever happened to innovations? Creativity?
GUSTAVUS: you have sucked the energy, the money AND the ingenuity out of me.