In Between

A woman was on a vacation to become happier and while she was away, the love of her life died, and she was so stricken with grief that she arranged to have a new body made for her to live in, and when it was ready she would transfer her memories to the body, like a hard drive. But she could only transfer chunks at a time because there was only so much bandwidth, but in the process the company ended losing the rest of her memories, including the ones of the love of her life. The dream was about her struggle to find these lost memories, as painful as they may be, while in this new, shiny body of her new life.

If this is not a movie yet, then I call Hollywood dibs on the plot. If it is, well, then, please tell me what movie it is so I can add it to my Netflix queue!

Can I just say that I am completely excited about life, to the point where I'm excited for everyone else? I'm feeling a sense of adventure and hopefulness, with no reservation. I suppose this all could be influenced by the fact that just came back from a vacation in Belize (will post photos once my instant cameras develop), or the fact that I'm also starting a new job soon! Seems to be a pattern, no? I'm okay with patterns.

PS) After waking up this morning, I read an article in the NYTimes about a woman who rebuilt a home and new life for herself in a way I admire to the core. See photos here.

"I had the raddest of rad dreams," is how I thought I'd start sharing, finding the words while drifting from sleep to wake this morning. Now I'm not sure how rad I understand it was to be, but let me tell you anyway.

I was a guest at a wedding, with all different kinds of people like a high school prom, cheerleaders here, hip hop dancers there, stuffy fluffy poufs over here. I somehow assumed the role of wedding photographer, at first just capturing quiet candid moments. Soon I was organizing people into groups, giving them direction on poses, props. The atmosphere was fun and lively and people were waiting and I had to say you're next! I promise. And they'd laugh and wait anyway.

I saw it all through the viewfinder. At one point I couldn't get a group of people holding albums standing on a flight of stairs into the frame, and being below I couldn't capture the back row, no matter where I stood. On an instinct I ran to the table behind me, a wooden board on two horses, really, and jumped up on it to get the best view. The people gathered around, eating and drinking at the table were shocked for a moment, but soon caught up with the energy and cheered me on! By the time I was standing on the edge of the plank, instructing people at the other end to weigh it down like a see saw, I saw my subjects had arranged themselves on the flight of stairs so creatively... the albums they were holding were now color coordinated, and beaming up at me. I shouted out gratitude for making my job easier, and snapped away while the people below laughed and cheered at this wild photographer. More and more people flooded onto the steps to get into this mega shot and I jumped up with joy. I jumped up but didn't come down. I was floating. Up and up and up -- unafraid, high off endorphins...

I remember at one point slinging by camera down to hand it to someone before gracefully swinging to the ground from a rope. I remember losing that camera and all the happy faces I captured. I remember looking for Jason to share this moment, losing my smile at the fact that he'd missed it all.

I remember taking a walk on a bright spring day, my sisters and mom and I barely squeezing through a narrow path lined with little dwarf homes with little dwarf field flowers and little dwarf mailboxes and sunlight spilling itself over everything. I saw it all through the viewfinder. I woke with this tension, not fitting into the space of such beautiful surroundings, wanting to take it all home with me, not being able to.

The hat. The dress. The bike. The view. The day. The life.



image by The Selby, my idol.

Am terribly in love with the brick wall red green combo. Someday, oh someday, I will have my own space for my own business for my own work. I will flow between this lovely space to my lovely home, and back again to this lovely space in the morning.

Every morning will start with drinking a cup of joe while gazing out the window. After a minute or two I will dive into an hour of email diligence, corresponding and sending quotes. The destiny of my day lies in lists, lists, and more lists. I'll take my lunch outside. I'll offer design services like branding, website consulting, illustration and installation commissions, copyrighting, photography and prop styling... I'll host events like book readings, exhibitions, crAfternoons, and dinner parties... my kitchen will always be full of take-home desserts for my interns and clients.

My business will thrive on collaboration and sensibility, quiet with honesty and strength. We'll know that word of mouth is the most intimate form of advertising. We'll believe in our work and our clients and our talent. I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't wait...

Just an update on the waking up early routine: I've been successful. Who knew I would ever get used to waking up at 5:33AM? I wouldn't be able to do it alone, so most of the credit belongs to the ever-so-dedicated Jase. Our mornings are consistently as the following:

We wake to the sound of his alarm, lay around for what seems much longer than the 3 minutes that passes, and after sharing a quick hug and a kiss he'll get going first. I'll quite literally stumble to meet him at the sinks, but not before stretching like a cat and collapsing for another few minutes. Blurry-eyed [yet to put my contacts in], I reach out to turn on the water, and while waiting for it to warm I try to stand straight. If I can't catch my balance I lean on his left shoulder and give him a horrid morning-smile that can't possibly be endearing but he seems to think it is. He laughs. I wash up, style the hairs, put the face on, and get dressed. Of course by now he's been waiting for 10 minutes, patient as a lion, and I'm hustling to get my things together and run out the door. Normally I'd joke and say, "Gosh, are you ready yet? I've been waiting for you!" [even though, clearly, he's been waiting for me] and he'll go, "ho-ho-ho-really?!" and I'll go, "teehee hee yeaaaa," but now I realize, I should probably just thank him for not ditching me.

And vagueness prevails. I dreamt something very important last night.. epiphanous, even. Of course I can't remember what it was.

From Sara: "... i especially loved the back porch because it felt like you were high up in a tree house when the leaves were out on the trees. i spent many lazy summer days relaxing out on the screened in porch reading and (confession…) napping! our guests were the lucky ones who got to spend the night in full view of the stars and wake up with the birds and morning sunshine." (Read the rest of Sara's description at Decor8.)

Sah-woon.

Happy Friday, dear friends! This week has merely been an elongated sigh between weekends for me, floating through each day dreaming of the weekend past and the weekend to arrive. And now it is here! I am determined to recreate the same ease emanating from the photograph above. If i had to guess, the recipe might call for something like this:

Porch-style Weekend Pie

• 4 pints of beer
• 2 hours of additional sleep per morning
• Country Waffles All American Breakfast
  
• 1 c fresh squeezed orange juice
• 20 minutes of belly laughs [gradually added in increments of 2 min]
• sprinkled with spontaneous naps [to taste]
• light powder of housecleaning [optional]

Sounds delicious, no?

Since I've been completely and utterly neglectful of this blog due to a pathetic writer's block, I'm going to attempt to break through by writing about my dreams and see where it goes. Something abstract and tactless yet meaningful to some part of my psyche, apparently.

I've found a recent theme of abandonment throughout my dreams for the past few nights. In my dreams I'm looking for my sister to save me from burning my foot in the oven, yet she is no where to be found until too late. And in another dream my parents invite us all to a party, but I think we're too cool to go so we kind of hang back and continue doing our things, or so I think. Next time I turn around my sisters are dressed up and getting into the car, without telling me that they'd decided to go, in other words, not inviting me. My reaction in that dream was to have a maaajor thrombo on the hood of the car. It was horribly embarrassing but I meant every satanic word. At the time.

This totally would happen in real life by the way, or at least in my head. I would first feel hurt and it would turn into feelings of betrayal. I'd immediately mask my pain with pride and go back inside and continue on some passive aggressive adventure of revenge, like mess up the closet that they just organized, or hide their favorite stuffed animals. It's a reaction I've had all my life. It used to be that there was no difference between being late and on time as long as I showed up, yet I fall to pieces when the other person doesn't notify me when they're running behind. I tend to translate this lack of fortuitous timing into neglect, and take personal offense to this inconsideration. Now I ask for exact time estimations from my dates, to the minute or at least a 6 minute range. It's turning me into a control freak!

In my waking life I'm learning to deal with my anger (I know, what? Milan angry? Just ask my sisters) and how it stems from the pain of feeling abandoned. I am at a COMPLETE loss as to how to get over it. I can be logical and realize that shtuff happens and it doesn't mean that I am the center of the universe (but I am the center of MY universe!) and that I don't have to be made the victim (then why do i FEEL like the victim??). Exasperated sigh.

It's ridiculous really, and I can't help but feel that I will be dealing with this for the rest of my life. Alls I knows is that either 1) my significant other is going to have to be extra communicative and constantly present (not physically, mainly emotionally) in order to reassure my ego that it is loved or 2) love my ego myself. Or both.

The conversations in my head go like this:

Me: You are not the center of the universe.
Ego: But I am the center of MY universe.
Me: Ok yes, but you have to live with others in this universe so calm the cow down!
Ego: *pout* ok.

Me: You don't have to be the victim today.
Ego: But I am the victim, why else would I feel this way?
Me: Because you're hurt, that's all. It's a legitimate reaction and it'll pass.
Ego: But when?
Me: As soon as you stop making yourself the victim.
Ego: But I want to be! I don't have to be strong here!
Me: Aha. So that's what you want? To be weak?
Ego: no...
Me: Okay. Well I love you so be strong and it will pass.
Ego: *pout* ok.

We all have our inner demons called the ego, and I think we all should have a better relationship with it. I don't know if having this type of conversation will work for me, but I'll give it a try the next time I find myself in a completely irrational place. Like while having a hissy fit on the hood of a car.

Career change by Blah Blah Blahg


Doing What You Love Blog Interview Series.

For me, discovery through blogs.


What do I want? A home. And a studio. http://www.designspongeonline.com/2009/02/sneak-peek-mike-perry-anna-wolf.html

An email I sent to Mica this morning:

"I had a dream last night that we moved into big house together, you and johnny. and things were good and then you stopped talking to me and i didn't know why. Then johnny [her boyfriend] told me later that you told him that you were afraid i was going to kill you and that you were annoyed.

O_O I'm not going to kill you, silly!!!"

This morning I dreamt that my boyfriend told me that he kept a planner to take note of all the things that I like and all the things that bother me, just to be safe and not make the same mistake twice. how sweet.

I had a dream last night that we went on a protest across the Golden Gate Bridge. We were lucky enough to find a really good parking spot so that we wouldn't have to protest so far. Whew!