Queer Theory Brain Dump

Don't quote me on any of this.

A Space Like Home

I've been feeling a little better.  Not great, but I think to reach that point of happiness at a consistent level would require extra work from me.  Reaching a point of contentment, and peace, is more manageable for me and my school load.  I think a lot of what creates my current stability is having this room to myself, although I know I've been repeating that like a broken record player.  Having pictures that resonate with the quiet places in my heart creates stability, and my quotes, though I fear I may grow tire of them, is a good constant reminder.  The walls are still in some state of disarray, but I'm slowly examining the clutter and changing it, looking for an equilibrium of fullness yet orderly display of strength and love.  I love my fake foliage the most, but it has a way of overgrowing and creating chaos.

I woke up this morning with the sun in my face and for a moment felt like I was back in my room at home.  The walls there had light planks of vertical wood on the wall, like the hardwood on your floor, that I loved.  Whenever I buy a house for myself, my room would be such a room.  Shades of brown and wood grains are comforting, and the vines re-creates that experience to some extent.  Back home I hated my parent's restraints, but it was a place that I grew up in and left memories.

KH I Quotations

My wall is looking good!  I was so restless on Saturday, not being able to do anything but think about my room, and going insane with the heat, but I got enough done to sate my desire to...decorate.  It's also by no means done, but it's gotten started, and I think this one part of the wall will serve to inspire the rest.  Slowly, piece by piece, I think it will come together, the way my walls at home came together through four years of growing.  I'll only have one year here, but it should be ok.

I've been watching Youtube videos of the new Kingdom Hearts game, Birth By Sleep.  I'm happy that there's a Roxas similar starring in the game, but he's so much like Sora, it's like playing the first game over again.  I'm not thrilled, and there's many things about the game play that annoys me as I watch it (Ventus holds his keyblade backwards, and swings it constantly; he also does a little dance in place when stalling in battle), but I won't be playing it any time soon, so I should just enjoy the graphics.  Meanwhile, I'm reading through the KH1 game script during study breaks, looking for good quotes for my wall.

Quotations

I'm trying to redecorate my room, because the first round of pictures that got thrown up was insufficient to cover them (I do have four walls and a ceiling to work with this year), and I've since then ordered more pictures.  Now they're all strewn on my floor and I'm uncertain how to place them.  However, they do need to be placed, because not seeing my floor is starting to bug me (only been a day or two, ha ha).

There's this great irritation that nags me, but not one that urges me to go out and do things.  In fact, just the opposite, it urges me to go out on walks, find Cyrus, the RF's dog, or contact friends.  Unlike everyone else, I'm not content to be busy, but there's still a great amount of energy that's got to be expended on...something.  Having a room this year means I spend less time worrying over hiding feelings and pretending to be someone else.  I can be exactly who I am, on this blog and in my room, and I suddenly find myself unable to express myself.  It's bizarre.

I thought maybe quotes might be a good way to express myself this season.  Since I'm unable to express myself, perhaps others can do better for me.

Art Slump

A few weeks ago I had one of those up-till-4am debate with a friend about the value of art, the conclusion of which was that we were simply arguing over vocabulary, and that everything would be settled if we started differentiating between intentional art and art.  My argument was that most pieces of art were examples of technical skills, where as true art played with your mind and made you think, expressing some philosophy on how life works.  She argued that art was art if it was painted, sketched, glued together, etc., and every work needed to be accepted as art, even if not appreciated.  Nevertheless, I haven't been able to appreciate are since, thereby losing my source of inspiration.  So, I'm in a huge art slump, and my room decor has not gone very far.  Neither my Felishorn work, which I had intended to make huge progress before going into hiatus for the school year.

Also, I'm developing a mucus-y, achy throat that won't become a cold but won't go away.

Mother left for a trip to Las Vegas this morning, and Father felt lonely, so he calls me at 6:30am to go have coffee (breakfast).  That expanded to a mega-size garage sale, a trip to the dog park (Buck came), and shopping at Office Max, Costco, Michaels, and Taco Bell for lunch.  Then I went back to dorm and fell back into my art slump.  But at least I got adhesive to hang my mirror and Christmas lights.  I just can't bring myself to put up picture decorations because of ART SLUMP.

-curls up-  Go away, world.  I want brownies.

Repost: Five Baby Otters, First Pups in 20 Years for Santa Barbara!

On a lighter note:

http://www.zooborns.com/zooborns/2010/09/five-baby-otters-first-pups-in-twenty-years-for-santa-barbara.html

Everybody go "awww", please!

Repost: Medieval Flagellation in an Italian Town

http://lens.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/09/09/medieval-flagellation-in-an-italian-town/

If I could repost the picture of the boys in fairy wings, I would, because it's such a striking photograph.  Their young, slender frames are juxtaposed to the serious, solemn face of the center boy, who stares down at you with a frown and a look of importance.  Their wings are childish, similar to a Halloween costume, but everything else about them is dead serious, deeply immersed in this religious ritual.

I see Italy and I see old, crumbling buildings of a once glamorous city, a city with so much life, filled with so much passion and ideas that even now, when the modern era creeps into its canals and the physical materials of its buildlings crumble, the city still stands supported by those by-gone passions.  I want to see Italy for myself some day.

Summer Ends

Fall is so here.  It's the start of September and today, the sky drizzled just a bit.  I didn't experience it myself, but I definitely felt autumn hitting my face when I walked out of work today.  The sky's all gray and cloudy, windy but still warm, and there's a sense of spice in the air.  I don't know where that last part comes from, but it's not hard core summer, whose heat hits you with such severity and constancy that it melts in its own heat.  Autumn is like poetry, whereas summer is Huckleberry Finn fiction.

Follow the cut to my thoughts on entering a new job, and a reflection on this summer at my first, full time position.

You Are The One

I can't find this song any where else besides this website, where I first came across it.

http://www.beautifulmoments.com.au/weddings2/index2.php#/home/

So, as I listen to it before bed to celebrate the purchase of a used rocking chair for my dorm room, a good labor day spent with both family and friends, and the privacy of a two room double, I hope you'll take 4 minutes to listen to it, too.

Recovery

The thing about metaphors is that you become stuck in them.  After writing yesterday's post I took a shower, wherein I stood underneath the streams of hot water and realized how fortunate you had to be to be purely 'Spirit', 'Earth', 'Wind', 'Water' or 'Fire'.  It's like being the master of that element, and nobody's special enough to be just purely one thing.  Which means I'm not only Spirit, I'm other stuff, too.

And please, don't ever let me talk about spirit like that again.  I read back over what I wrote and realize that it's just a swamp of negativity, a dump of acid.  I believe it, but I also choose to live a hopeful life.  What I must learn is not what was written yesterday, but to incorporate who I am with the realities of life.  That is, to talk about the inner self in more physical terms, with verbs rather than adjectives.

The greatest thing about my job is that I can spend entire afternoons reading blogs while being paid $14 an hour.  During the main parts of summer the job was difficult, with plenty of running around, tables to lift and rooms to set up, catering orders to stalk and trash cans to find.  I've had more than one frustrated bouts as I went over my social limit, and spent many evenings after work curled up in a dejected slump which refuses to budge or be hopeful.  But now that most conferences have left Stanford and early arrivals are replenishing the student body, I can guiltily sneak away some quiet, paid moments working on Felishorns and reading voraciously, recalling the carnal hunger for words which SLE had, for a moment, extinguished.  Over-indulgence is a crippling sickness, but recoverable.

My blog feed consists mostly of ecological and zoological journals, travel blogs, blogs on good food and good living, design and weddings, and lately blogs on how to bake bread.  I will be keeping an eye on Natural Starter Bread, judging when I can read it, and starting a starter once I've moved into my new dorm room, which will be my residence for the school year.

But I don't let myself get too enthralled with blogs, yet, or I will over-indulge and ignore Felishorn work and my studies when school starts again.  I took the time to write this post so as to divert my attention from it's track, because 5pm is fast approaching when I can go home and work on Felishorns.  Hopefully, tonight will be more productive than last night.  I still can't get rid of the last traces of artistic frustration, still can't grip my muse, but I'm going to plow through anyway and work.

(Oh woe is the bread blog in French!)