Petrol and frankincense.
Feb. 15th, 2012 03:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
crowsPart of this is hoodoo and part of this is whinging.
This week, I'm tired of being a college student. Yes, I know I'm only in my fourth semester of this shit if you don't count my online courses last summer. But there's so much I want to do that doesn't particularly involve being in school. There stands to be a lot of travel this summer; in every instance something that will be a wonderful experience with people who mean a lot to me. Things I know I will regret not doing, if the opportunity arises and I do not take it. Things I need to make work. And it just... it just underscores how, if I weren't in school, I could be working full time, or looking for a job that paid better than I make (not that I don't love my job, I do), and still have loads more time than I do right now. Time where I wouldn't so keenly feel the things I'm putting off.
Part of this attitude is the weight of the sleep debt I've incurred over the last couple of weeks (a balance which I continue, largely, to default on, but is present nonetheless). I don't feel particularly excellent in my skin today; I need to reset some things. Hydrate. Detox. Eat a little bit cleaner, especially as we cruise into spring (mmm, renewal).
Really, I shouldn't be complaining. That thing which is at the root of my angst is actually a profound excess of creative energy, ideas, and cool fucking shit that's not even all that out of reach. Much of this I've already plunged into, much of this is stuff I'm doing and I would just like to be doing more of. There's so much writing. There's drawing happening again. And... music. I'm feeling easier in my voice the last few months than I have for a long time, and I'm beginning to feel comfortable handling my instruments again. It's been so many god damn years that I barely recognize what it feels like, but the reminder of why I surround myself with this kind of thing and why it's important to me is pretty refreshing. It's scary though, too. I've taken on a couple of things that are going to be a significant challenge to my sensibilities in the next couple of weeks, re: performing, and performing in ways that I'm not 100% comfortable with. Being on stage with the choir, or even as part of our 8 or 9 person ensemble doesn't really rattle my nerves (an improvement, over previous intervals of my life), but being up there by myself (which I will be), and being up there with an instrument (which I will be), these things... are going to give me an ulcer.
Sooo... yeah. Also, also! People in my life. Yes, you there, you who may read this and many of you who won't ever. Stop being so fucking fabulous, brilliant, clever, sexy, and interesting. Seriously, knock that shit off. My heart can't take it. Let me get bored enough to do my homework and get some fucking sleep at night.
(I kid.)
And then, there's the work. It is, as it has always been, small things fit in the in between, a color to my relationship with the night, very tiny rituals that aren't conducted in a language symbolically or otherwise that I expect anyone else to understand (though as it happens people do, from time to time). These things, I am remembering too, and open to more of. It's a reminder of how much of life is still this perpetual journey out of the fog, that I have to keep my eyes always forward because I could at a moment's notice turn around and become lost again. Which is not to say that I feel so close to peril, as I certainly have in former years. I'm steady on my feet these days. It's nice. I'm trying not to take that for granted because I daresay a majority of my life to this point has not been able to claim that among its virtues.
So, I continue to come out of things that have hampered me, or things that I have simply outgrown, perpetual nautilus building another temple, and another. Currently, there's a great deal of reconnecting and remembering going on, and I am wondering again, as I have occasionally in the last six months, whether there's a time approaching where I will be practicing with other people again. I wasn't sure I was ever going to pull away from feeling as private as I did about all of that business after I moved to Los Angeles. I really did think the door had closed forever, but now there are more people in my life than there have been for a long time that know some of those deeply secret things, and it wasn't a labor to confess them. In a lot of ways I'm back in a country of my own people, at long last.
This week, I'm tired of being a college student. Yes, I know I'm only in my fourth semester of this shit if you don't count my online courses last summer. But there's so much I want to do that doesn't particularly involve being in school. There stands to be a lot of travel this summer; in every instance something that will be a wonderful experience with people who mean a lot to me. Things I know I will regret not doing, if the opportunity arises and I do not take it. Things I need to make work. And it just... it just underscores how, if I weren't in school, I could be working full time, or looking for a job that paid better than I make (not that I don't love my job, I do), and still have loads more time than I do right now. Time where I wouldn't so keenly feel the things I'm putting off.
Part of this attitude is the weight of the sleep debt I've incurred over the last couple of weeks (a balance which I continue, largely, to default on, but is present nonetheless). I don't feel particularly excellent in my skin today; I need to reset some things. Hydrate. Detox. Eat a little bit cleaner, especially as we cruise into spring (mmm, renewal).
Really, I shouldn't be complaining. That thing which is at the root of my angst is actually a profound excess of creative energy, ideas, and cool fucking shit that's not even all that out of reach. Much of this I've already plunged into, much of this is stuff I'm doing and I would just like to be doing more of. There's so much writing. There's drawing happening again. And... music. I'm feeling easier in my voice the last few months than I have for a long time, and I'm beginning to feel comfortable handling my instruments again. It's been so many god damn years that I barely recognize what it feels like, but the reminder of why I surround myself with this kind of thing and why it's important to me is pretty refreshing. It's scary though, too. I've taken on a couple of things that are going to be a significant challenge to my sensibilities in the next couple of weeks, re: performing, and performing in ways that I'm not 100% comfortable with. Being on stage with the choir, or even as part of our 8 or 9 person ensemble doesn't really rattle my nerves (an improvement, over previous intervals of my life), but being up there by myself (which I will be), and being up there with an instrument (which I will be), these things... are going to give me an ulcer.
Sooo... yeah. Also, also! People in my life. Yes, you there, you who may read this and many of you who won't ever. Stop being so fucking fabulous, brilliant, clever, sexy, and interesting. Seriously, knock that shit off. My heart can't take it. Let me get bored enough to do my homework and get some fucking sleep at night.
(I kid.)
And then, there's the work. It is, as it has always been, small things fit in the in between, a color to my relationship with the night, very tiny rituals that aren't conducted in a language symbolically or otherwise that I expect anyone else to understand (though as it happens people do, from time to time). These things, I am remembering too, and open to more of. It's a reminder of how much of life is still this perpetual journey out of the fog, that I have to keep my eyes always forward because I could at a moment's notice turn around and become lost again. Which is not to say that I feel so close to peril, as I certainly have in former years. I'm steady on my feet these days. It's nice. I'm trying not to take that for granted because I daresay a majority of my life to this point has not been able to claim that among its virtues.
So, I continue to come out of things that have hampered me, or things that I have simply outgrown, perpetual nautilus building another temple, and another. Currently, there's a great deal of reconnecting and remembering going on, and I am wondering again, as I have occasionally in the last six months, whether there's a time approaching where I will be practicing with other people again. I wasn't sure I was ever going to pull away from feeling as private as I did about all of that business after I moved to Los Angeles. I really did think the door had closed forever, but now there are more people in my life than there have been for a long time that know some of those deeply secret things, and it wasn't a labor to confess them. In a lot of ways I'm back in a country of my own people, at long last.