I have a real problem with growing up.
I was supposed to do a shoot this morning but it got canceled because one of my subjects spent all of last night throwing up. So I've spent the better part of today cleaning my room. And I don't mean 'straighten out your drawers, do laundry, basic' cleaning. No - it looks like a full-on war zone in here because I'm going through everything top to bottom. There's a make-shift monument of high heels in on corner, giant trash bags and old electronics in the other.
My closet is full of people and things that are no longer in my life and to tell the truth, that's not something I think I'm okay with. Some were lost to fights. Some were lost to disappointment. And some were lost to something entirely beyond my control - time. I found Christmas gifts for some of you guys that I never sent. It's all gone bad now, though. I found all my cards from graduation, my book filled with notes from friends that I never get to see anymore. An old radio/cd/cassette player - I popped open the tape dock and found a tape, my dance practice music from 1998. Giving up dance becomes a bigger regret the older I get. I wish I would have thought ahead - "focus on art and film later, dance now while your body is prime for it." I followed my heart I guess, I'll give myself that, I just wish I would have budgeted my life and my years better. I opened the CD lid and found a mix from my old best friend Emily. I have no idea what happened to her. We went to different colleges, sure, but we still spoke, even went to Missy Higgins together. Then she deleted her facebook and apparently got a new number, I've tried to text her a couple of times but it always goes ignored.
I found a piece of paper with my mother's handwriting, notes from graduation. She said she thanked Mr. Walker for all he did for me and he told her, "she was worth the time." Mr. Reilly told her I was a gift to teach and Mr. U told her I had a brilliant mind. I miss all of them more than I could possibly say and it hurts even more with them, because I didn't lose them to a fight, to anger or to disappointment. I simply just... grew out of them. Not emotionally, but societally - you graduate high school, you leave, that's how it goes. I found a detention I never turned in - the preamble to the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. That was the choice, you could either physically sit in a detention room or you could write out the Constitution or bible. I am tempted to mail it to Mr. Walker with a note, "I believe I owe you this." He went easy on me - knew that most of my detentions were results of me standing up for myself or, heaven forbid, having a fucking opinion. He always rewarded me for those things, even in the face of disagreement from his peers. Once I wrote a detention out completely backwards, he had to hold it up to a mirror to check it and after that he never harped on me to hand them in again. I must have had at least ten that went unattended.
All of my dance stuff from senior year. We had to make "legacy journals" - it started with us and they're still circulating through the team. She assigns new people to them every year and they keep adding on. It's a beautiful tradition and I'm lucky in that I get to continue to look at them. They've asked me back to photograph the end-of-year banquets ever since so I always find a moment to steal away and flip through my book, see what's been added that year. I always cry. But I found my photocopies of the pages I made for it, the old schedules and checklists, a list of things to pack for State written on a coupon slip from when I used to work as a cashier. Old letters, cards, all of it massively unorganized but it's just too much. Sets of knitting needles attached to half-finished scarves. Confetti. Packing peanuts. Posters. Books I'd forgotten about, The Art of the X-Files, for one. Textbooks, old logic notes, archaeology, creative writing, math I've probably since forgotten how to do and will never use again. Photos of so many people I've since kissed or fought with, photos of so many people who have changed or left or broke my heart in one way or another. Photos of so many people who have merely just faded away. Photos of so many people, places, times in my life I'll never get back.
My closet is full of people and things that are no longer in my life and to tell the truth, that's not something I think I'm okay with. Some were lost to fights. Some were lost to disappointment. And some were lost to something entirely beyond my control - time. I found Christmas gifts for some of you guys that I never sent. It's all gone bad now, though. I found all my cards from graduation, my book filled with notes from friends that I never get to see anymore. An old radio/cd/cassette player - I popped open the tape dock and found a tape, my dance practice music from 1998. Giving up dance becomes a bigger regret the older I get. I wish I would have thought ahead - "focus on art and film later, dance now while your body is prime for it." I followed my heart I guess, I'll give myself that, I just wish I would have budgeted my life and my years better. I opened the CD lid and found a mix from my old best friend Emily. I have no idea what happened to her. We went to different colleges, sure, but we still spoke, even went to Missy Higgins together. Then she deleted her facebook and apparently got a new number, I've tried to text her a couple of times but it always goes ignored.
I found a piece of paper with my mother's handwriting, notes from graduation. She said she thanked Mr. Walker for all he did for me and he told her, "she was worth the time." Mr. Reilly told her I was a gift to teach and Mr. U told her I had a brilliant mind. I miss all of them more than I could possibly say and it hurts even more with them, because I didn't lose them to a fight, to anger or to disappointment. I simply just... grew out of them. Not emotionally, but societally - you graduate high school, you leave, that's how it goes. I found a detention I never turned in - the preamble to the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. That was the choice, you could either physically sit in a detention room or you could write out the Constitution or bible. I am tempted to mail it to Mr. Walker with a note, "I believe I owe you this." He went easy on me - knew that most of my detentions were results of me standing up for myself or, heaven forbid, having a fucking opinion. He always rewarded me for those things, even in the face of disagreement from his peers. Once I wrote a detention out completely backwards, he had to hold it up to a mirror to check it and after that he never harped on me to hand them in again. I must have had at least ten that went unattended.
All of my dance stuff from senior year. We had to make "legacy journals" - it started with us and they're still circulating through the team. She assigns new people to them every year and they keep adding on. It's a beautiful tradition and I'm lucky in that I get to continue to look at them. They've asked me back to photograph the end-of-year banquets ever since so I always find a moment to steal away and flip through my book, see what's been added that year. I always cry. But I found my photocopies of the pages I made for it, the old schedules and checklists, a list of things to pack for State written on a coupon slip from when I used to work as a cashier. Old letters, cards, all of it massively unorganized but it's just too much. Sets of knitting needles attached to half-finished scarves. Confetti. Packing peanuts. Posters. Books I'd forgotten about, The Art of the X-Files, for one. Textbooks, old logic notes, archaeology, creative writing, math I've probably since forgotten how to do and will never use again. Photos of so many people I've since kissed or fought with, photos of so many people who have changed or left or broke my heart in one way or another. Photos of so many people who have merely just faded away. Photos of so many people, places, times in my life I'll never get back.