It's about the time from me to actually write another decent entry into this social, mental, and emotional project that is my life. I've been to distracted lately from what I love by the obligations of school, which is really just my work, seeing as it pays $13,000 every year. Regardless, I'm taking a break. Right now, I am supposed to be writing an Annotated Bibliography on three scientific articles relating to Genetics. I have the articles. I cited them. Now I just have to read them, write the paper, and make it to class at 10:30 am. The last one this semester. I probably won't sleep at this point. I would like to reaffirm that my school tasks are NOT major points of who I am - except, well this one is about the relationship between altered genes and the instances of mental illness. Which is really cool, and applies to both myself and to my sister, my uncle, and well, you get the picture. But other than that, I'm not what Kirby Ann calls a "schoolie" - at least not at heart.
So what have I really been up to lately? I've been daydreaming, and dreaming dreaming of getting back into ceramics. I literally have three projects planned already, along with no wheel, no clay, no tools, and no kiln. It doesn't matter. When I'm sitting in Genetics or Organic Chemistry or, especially, Jazz Appreciation (none of which I have to sit through until next semester, Thank God!) I'm really in the studio. I've even decorated the studio itself in my mind. It is a light greenish blue, like Korean celadon, with a red vase on the windowsill containing a single orange (plain, not tiger) lily within it. There are photographs framed on the walls of things that I love, that keep me calm, that help me center my life. My Mom and Dad together in their jammies, the portrait I took this semester of my boyfriend, old past family pets. My Alaskan Malamute best friend is sitting in the corner on his pillow relaxing. I have a small stove in another corner - a tea kettle purrs softly on it as it begins to boil. My tea closet - literally an amour filled to the brink with hundreds of different types of tea, honey, and sweetener filling it, lies to the left of the stove. The whole place is calm. Maybe I'm burning some sandalwood, maybe I'm not. There is a small desk and a tall Queen-sized bed on upper level - it's a split level studio did I mention that? That room is blue - New Mexico sky blue. On the desk there is a copy of Emma, The Neurotics' Handbook, and some pencils. All the floors are hardwood. The upper level has a fireplace. There is no other soul in site but Annelia, my dog. No one bothers me, no one expects me to have pictures of my sister, no one asks questions I don't want to answer. There are no tissue boxes because they aren't needed. In the summer, I'll raku some of my pottery on the porch, in the winter I'll cuddle up to the fire with Annelia, Mr. Darcy, and coco. But for right now, I'm just making another tea kettle from stoneware on my wheel. I watch it as it turns round and round, and I'm content.
If I were to describe my actually life to you right now, or my apartment in the "we have finals" state that its in - it would pail in comparison to my studio loft. I would be inclined to tell you that not only am I tired, but my back aches so bad that it keeps me awake, that my migraines consume my thoughts, that my schoolwork is almost done but not quite which makes me inclined not to do it, that the stress gives me stomach aches, and that I sleep on a mattress/boxspring combo laid right on the floor. But more importantly I would tell you that in this world, I'm not calm, content, or happy. I'm scared, I'm lonely, I'm disappointed. And I keep making the exact same mistakes. I may be lucky, but if you think I'm smart - reconsider. In love, in friendship, in other relationships I fail miserably. So I'll retreat into my own mind and dream.
Which begs the question, if you have dreams, why do you have them, my listeners? Would it be better not to dream but to live those hopes and goals?
Sincerely,
Sarah
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