In Gold We Trust II

In Gold We Trust II
Originally uploaded by T/\KEC/\RE

In New York I spent an entire day with Cameron, after not seeing him for something that must be two years. His voice has changed. He carries himself differently, confidence, aloofness, humor. He stands his ground very well and is so nice to be around.

I had about eight hours in Novi between Chicago and New York, and on Thursday we begin the road trip to Maryland. Valerie, Kirk, Joshua, Caroline. In reverse alphabetical order, apparently. I have a tickling back-of-the-spine feeling it will be a very pleasant trip, but there's always a margin for error.

I'm feeling random inklings of inspiration, they make me feel more whole. 

I have finished two books in the past week: Down & Out in Paris & London (Orwell) and The Learners (Kidd). Currently reading The Last Evening on Earth (Bolaño), as recommended by brother Christiaan.

I've eaten too much. 

25 things

I hate blogs.

This is in honor of not being in the mood to work, and of the 14 people that tagged me on facebook in a note that I refused to respond to.

1 My favorite things are black pens and college-ruled paper, without fail.

2 I am frequently found screaming.

3 The older I get the more I appreciate and enjoy my immediate family.

4 My life is overrun with ambition.

5 I have always been mistaken to be three years younger than I am. 

6 I've filled more than 20 notebooks with writing since high school.

7 At least six of them now belong to other people, because I have a habit of wrapping them up and giving/mailing them away.

8 My business/analytical/technical skills greatly surpass my social skills.

9 I hate art.

10 I am absolutely entirely infatuated and obsessed with art.

11 People often give me Hello Kitty gifts simply because they are Hello Kitty. I love her with all my heart, yes. But poorly designed HK novelty makes me want to throw up and scream.

12 I never burn bridges. Ever.

13 I know (not believe, know) that everyone has something important to teach me.

14 One of my most favorite things is when my dad plays classical guitar in the garage during thunder storms. Sometimes I sit where he can't see me so I can just listen to him play the same bars over and over, trying to get it perfect.

15 Theresa is on her way to pick me up to go grocery shopping for the first time in two or three weeks.

16 So I am abandoning this.

17 (I hated it, anyway.)

I am officially in love with Toronto. Greg was right in predicting I would be when he came here more than six months ago. Sigh. Too bad I can't stay in hostels, buy shoes & look at art galleries forever. So glad I didn't back out at the last minute like I was about to, because I feel more energized, more excited & inspired, more content with the people I love & more motivated for the future.

The veins in my hands have been showing more lately, I don't know why. It's about 15 degrees here, but I might run in the morning. I got my shit. I might as well. Five point five miles yesterday, but none today, and only ten total last week.

I finally feel like I am in my fourth year of school, like I'm doing something at least moderately worthwhile, that I am succeeding a little bit. Thank God for Flickr, when you need a confidence boost. So many people are interested in my Kzoo tees (just need a new place to print them), and realizing I've been shown on two sites (baby sites, but sites nonetheless) for typography, and will be published in a magazine come fall... I feel more accomplished, FINALLY, in design.

Not only that, but 800 projects are going on. A group of six of us are working on publishing a zine (probably applying for a grant, doing the first issue before school's out), the AIGA fundraiser will be a success, Chicago trip, NYC in May, internship interview Friday morning in Pontiac, conceptualizing for the student show & getting amped about working on my "thesis" (not so much a thesis anymore)... Things are working out.

This is more of a brainstorm & verification of my worth than a legitimate BLOG POST. I hate the word blog. It makes me feel like a 44 year-old blogger sitting on a Sunday morning reading 18 comments about politics. It's kind of sickening.