la vie en rose . . .
Last night, I wracked up Spanish credit with Rae Gergen. A cute, colorful girl with long wavy blonde hair, she began talking to me the first day of class and we became instant buddies. I presumed, at first, that she was nice but different from me. Proved wrong once again! Rae's the type of girl who has maps of Germany on her wall and sex books on her floor. We went to a dreadfully dull presentation on winter term trips to Latin America which came with really delicious rice, beans, and hot chocolate. Then we proceeded to the Cat in the Cream to see a cello rock band. I browsed the Cat in the Zine (best name ever! thank you, me!), and read "I Hate This Part of Texas" over moroccan mint tea. It was such a prosaic, honest zine, as I was reading everything fell in place for me. I know exactly what Shines Like Silver is going to contain. It will be out as soon as I find the time to sit down and edit/layout.
We then got two more hours by attending "Merengue Madness". Every time I attempt another style of dance, I am reminded that I really only know how to move like a 14 year old punk girl. Paia came into the 'Sco on her work break and tried to teach me how to dance to merengue, and she halfway succeeded. Step-in place step-step back-step-lead with your hips- swirl!
I interviewed Kyla about coal tonight. It's a story that needs to be told and thus will be printed in Shines Like Silver. After the interview, we flipped through books and talked. I'm reading Dante's Inferno, and Kyla has this beautiful book of illustrations to the Divine Comedy that I looked through as she showed me photos of Florence. The illustration of the tempest of lovers struck me the most, as well as the wings on various mythological creatures. I have been paying close attention to wings lately because of a tattoo I want, based on a drawing by an extremely precious 11 year old boy. The tattoo is one of the insets in the complex, multifaceted pencil drawing- a ship with wings. The ship is perfect, but I want smaller, more graceful wings:
If anyone has any brilliant wing ideas, let me know. I think about this image every day, and its rightful place, in between my shoulder blades. It might take a few years, but it will get there.
Then we headed up to Sam Goodman's turret room for an art party. The room is actually two, one being the turret, and the walls and ceiling are decorated with art, tchotkes, and found items. It looks like an apartment one can live in for years and years, as if you'd look out the window and Portland or Berlin or Buenos Aires would spread out below you. Paia and Link played guitar and sang songs, Becca and Kyla sewed patches, Allison was making a book, Ben was writing a circus and getting his face painted, a very nautical fellow was making an all-white outfit on a sewing machine, and I was making a collage. It's just the beginning of one, each image carefully chosen from issues of Natural Geographic. A paddle crosses with a skull, a heart has eyes and wings. I've hung it on my wall and am going to continue it throughout the semester.
It's striking how differently I act around people when I feel comfortable versus when I feel intimidated or silenced.
We then got two more hours by attending "Merengue Madness". Every time I attempt another style of dance, I am reminded that I really only know how to move like a 14 year old punk girl. Paia came into the 'Sco on her work break and tried to teach me how to dance to merengue, and she halfway succeeded. Step-in place step-step back-step-lead with your hips- swirl!
I interviewed Kyla about coal tonight. It's a story that needs to be told and thus will be printed in Shines Like Silver. After the interview, we flipped through books and talked. I'm reading Dante's Inferno, and Kyla has this beautiful book of illustrations to the Divine Comedy that I looked through as she showed me photos of Florence. The illustration of the tempest of lovers struck me the most, as well as the wings on various mythological creatures. I have been paying close attention to wings lately because of a tattoo I want, based on a drawing by an extremely precious 11 year old boy. The tattoo is one of the insets in the complex, multifaceted pencil drawing- a ship with wings. The ship is perfect, but I want smaller, more graceful wings:
If anyone has any brilliant wing ideas, let me know. I think about this image every day, and its rightful place, in between my shoulder blades. It might take a few years, but it will get there.
Then we headed up to Sam Goodman's turret room for an art party. The room is actually two, one being the turret, and the walls and ceiling are decorated with art, tchotkes, and found items. It looks like an apartment one can live in for years and years, as if you'd look out the window and Portland or Berlin or Buenos Aires would spread out below you. Paia and Link played guitar and sang songs, Becca and Kyla sewed patches, Allison was making a book, Ben was writing a circus and getting his face painted, a very nautical fellow was making an all-white outfit on a sewing machine, and I was making a collage. It's just the beginning of one, each image carefully chosen from issues of Natural Geographic. A paddle crosses with a skull, a heart has eyes and wings. I've hung it on my wall and am going to continue it throughout the semester.
It's striking how differently I act around people when I feel comfortable versus when I feel intimidated or silenced.