(no subject)
New semester.
The second one.
And my favorite one.
First semester is just one long hangover from the summer.
where suddenly after three months of managing your own life
school swoops in and steals that ability away.
First semester is the chopper/mixer.
Then wintersession.
Which seems exciting at first, then teeters out midway through
when everyone starts smoking too much weed
and it's too cold to do anything.
Second semester is when my mind has finally been kneeded enough
that it finally is warm and pliable
responsive.
Not to MENTION bright horizons of warm weather again
(eventually after a the long forgotten season of "brown").
The weather today helps too, A balmy 50 degrees today.
The classes I'm signed up for all make me excited, if not for the subject matter
more for the teachers.
Home is clean for a while, there was a great rash of cleaning in the last two days.
This morning I couldn't sleep, I woke up at 6:30 and sat in my kitchen and ate 4 cups of tea.
I'm starting to clear out some of the winter shit that I've accumulated in my room.
I might have a yard sale soon...
So here's a problem I have. It's not so much a problem than an understanding actually.
I enjoy clothing. I treasure the pieces I have acquired since I decided to not let my mom dress me
(5th grade, I also only learned how to tie my shoes in 3rd grade, when my teacher sent me home and told me not to come back until I knew how. She was always a pessimistic thinker like that, not understanding that "tie-ing" ones shoes had become obsolete, and that velcro fasteners, which is what I owned, were the future.).
I have always also really considered the color of the clothing that I choose to wear, purposefully wearing as many at once as possible. I have grown to learn that this offends some people. Or that I can wear totally regular clothing, but if I wear 5 or 6 different colors, that I am usually pidgeonholed as some weirdo. I am not some weirdo, I can be a lot of weirdo, but I'm a nice person. You know?
I mean come on.
I mean, god.
What I don't get is why people don't consider the color of their clothing more.
My general outlook is that if I am required to wear clothing
( I could have chosen the nudist lifestyle, my priorities aren't there though.
You can be just as nude wearing the right clothes.)
That they may as well be a celebration of clothing,
loud colors being the most important part, this makes the clothing into symbols
more than just clothing.
But disreguard this rant. I am when it comes down to it
an art student. This doesn't make me special, but It just allows me to
geek out really hard on some of most obscure unacessible topics that one
could geek out on, several times a day.
The second one.
And my favorite one.
First semester is just one long hangover from the summer.
where suddenly after three months of managing your own life
school swoops in and steals that ability away.
First semester is the chopper/mixer.
Then wintersession.
Which seems exciting at first, then teeters out midway through
when everyone starts smoking too much weed
and it's too cold to do anything.
Second semester is when my mind has finally been kneeded enough
that it finally is warm and pliable
responsive.
Not to MENTION bright horizons of warm weather again
(eventually after a the long forgotten season of "brown").
The weather today helps too, A balmy 50 degrees today.
The classes I'm signed up for all make me excited, if not for the subject matter
more for the teachers.
Home is clean for a while, there was a great rash of cleaning in the last two days.
This morning I couldn't sleep, I woke up at 6:30 and sat in my kitchen and ate 4 cups of tea.
I'm starting to clear out some of the winter shit that I've accumulated in my room.
I might have a yard sale soon...
So here's a problem I have. It's not so much a problem than an understanding actually.
I enjoy clothing. I treasure the pieces I have acquired since I decided to not let my mom dress me
(5th grade, I also only learned how to tie my shoes in 3rd grade, when my teacher sent me home and told me not to come back until I knew how. She was always a pessimistic thinker like that, not understanding that "tie-ing" ones shoes had become obsolete, and that velcro fasteners, which is what I owned, were the future.).
I have always also really considered the color of the clothing that I choose to wear, purposefully wearing as many at once as possible. I have grown to learn that this offends some people. Or that I can wear totally regular clothing, but if I wear 5 or 6 different colors, that I am usually pidgeonholed as some weirdo. I am not some weirdo, I can be a lot of weirdo, but I'm a nice person. You know?
I mean come on.
I mean, god.
What I don't get is why people don't consider the color of their clothing more.
My general outlook is that if I am required to wear clothing
( I could have chosen the nudist lifestyle, my priorities aren't there though.
You can be just as nude wearing the right clothes.)
That they may as well be a celebration of clothing,
loud colors being the most important part, this makes the clothing into symbols
more than just clothing.
But disreguard this rant. I am when it comes down to it
an art student. This doesn't make me special, but It just allows me to
geek out really hard on some of most obscure unacessible topics that one
could geek out on, several times a day.