Operation U.R.B.A.N.
So, Meg and I are starting the group to end all groups: Operation U.R.B.A.N. Understanding Real Beings And Nature. It's like the ultimate dirty hippie group but everyone's allowed to join. It's basically almost a support group for artists of sorts. We'll have as many meetings as possible, as often as we can. All it is is people coming together in urban areas to appreciate the nature around them. A bonding experience, if you will. With the trees. You can read, write, get feedback from others on your poetry, or just chill in the grass. Or snow, like we did today. We're going to plan events like outdoor jam sessions and drum circles, and have community picnics and art shows on picnic blankets. We'll put on shows and plays and all sorts of stuff, all outside, all the time. Hopefully it gets big. I would love for this to turn into something.
Anywho, this all came about because we went to Manito after school to use up a roll of film for Meg's photography class. She took me down into the lilac garden, which is the most desolately beautiful place I've ever been. There were dormant bushes all over, and the hillside was covered in what appeared to be dead foliage, but you knew it couldn't be. Everything looked dead, but you knew, when you looked at it, that the area was so majestic and beautiful on its own that even in the tail-end, ugly part of winter, not even a single blossom was needed to accent the park. Just the setting, you know, was enough to make me cry. Something so beautiful, tragic, almost. Romantic. A tragedy in every romance, a romance in every tragedy. I've gotten myself into tears now. I could have spent hours there, it was so beautiful. I wanted to sit in the bushes and cry. We went up to the rose gardens, too. All dead, brown. Waiting for the new bulbs, waiting for this year's colours. The gazebo-type thing by the sundial was wrapped for winter. All the trellaces and vines were packaged onto their pillars, wrapped in white cloth, "winter coats," if you will. I saw the scene, a dual semi-circle of puffy, white pillars, ramshackle plastic, white, cross-hatched fencing attempting to protect its area, like a mother bear who's been hit in the head and thinks her cubs can't fend for themselves, even though they're the ones protecting her. The weak protecting the strong, or something like that. I saw this and immediately envisioned a person wrapped in a white sheet like one of the foliage-coated pillars standing between each one...11 people in all. I wish I could paint, because I would love to have that image. Until I find someone that can, however, I'll just see it in my head.
Today was the singlemost bipolar day in my entire life. I'm ridiculously depressed out of my mind but shaking in anticipation of URBAN. Being in the park kind of did it for me. I mean, I was already in a weird mood because I had just watched Fear & Loathing In Las Vegas with Joey earlier. But the lilac garden. The image I saw, the utter, raw beauty. The deep, deep sadness on the place. It was like me, devastated by the environment, but with the potential to fix itself from the inside, given the right conditions. I guess I just have to make my own environment. The problem is, though, all afternoon I couldn't stop thinking about how much Marcus would have liked to see it. I wish he could like to see me.
Anywho, this all came about because we went to Manito after school to use up a roll of film for Meg's photography class. She took me down into the lilac garden, which is the most desolately beautiful place I've ever been. There were dormant bushes all over, and the hillside was covered in what appeared to be dead foliage, but you knew it couldn't be. Everything looked dead, but you knew, when you looked at it, that the area was so majestic and beautiful on its own that even in the tail-end, ugly part of winter, not even a single blossom was needed to accent the park. Just the setting, you know, was enough to make me cry. Something so beautiful, tragic, almost. Romantic. A tragedy in every romance, a romance in every tragedy. I've gotten myself into tears now. I could have spent hours there, it was so beautiful. I wanted to sit in the bushes and cry. We went up to the rose gardens, too. All dead, brown. Waiting for the new bulbs, waiting for this year's colours. The gazebo-type thing by the sundial was wrapped for winter. All the trellaces and vines were packaged onto their pillars, wrapped in white cloth, "winter coats," if you will. I saw the scene, a dual semi-circle of puffy, white pillars, ramshackle plastic, white, cross-hatched fencing attempting to protect its area, like a mother bear who's been hit in the head and thinks her cubs can't fend for themselves, even though they're the ones protecting her. The weak protecting the strong, or something like that. I saw this and immediately envisioned a person wrapped in a white sheet like one of the foliage-coated pillars standing between each one...11 people in all. I wish I could paint, because I would love to have that image. Until I find someone that can, however, I'll just see it in my head.
Today was the singlemost bipolar day in my entire life. I'm ridiculously depressed out of my mind but shaking in anticipation of URBAN. Being in the park kind of did it for me. I mean, I was already in a weird mood because I had just watched Fear & Loathing In Las Vegas with Joey earlier. But the lilac garden. The image I saw, the utter, raw beauty. The deep, deep sadness on the place. It was like me, devastated by the environment, but with the potential to fix itself from the inside, given the right conditions. I guess I just have to make my own environment. The problem is, though, all afternoon I couldn't stop thinking about how much Marcus would have liked to see it. I wish he could like to see me.