Simplicity people.
simplicity.
Life is in the subtle.
(i'm thankful for the humble power of white)
simplicity.
Life is in the subtle.
(i'm thankful for the humble power of white)
2.19.2010
positive pointing #37: shut eye
I'm thankful for a time to close my eyesunplug
unengage
re-center
re-align
to leave the world
and come back,
magically,
a better girl.
good night, dear blog-friends.
Aristotle Thursday
So i'm sitting in my humanities class today.
My eyes, for some reason, are still a little puffy from when I woke up even though it is 3:00 in the afternoon. I'm sitting in my usually seat on the other side of a giant "U" that is formed by the tables and sharing some cranberries with Bandera, the girl that sits next to me. Another day. Another philosophical conversation will ensue. My teacher is jazzed as always. All the usuals are there. And we're all talking. Discussing. This time about Aristotle's "Ethics".
Discussion is our only survival tactic to make it until 4:20. So we discuss the time away.
"So Aristotle decides that the ultimate happiness is found when we fulfill our function as human beings." Professor Banning announces happily. "What is our function as human beings?"
Simple question? Sounds so.
Any answers? none.
Why am I here?
Why do i own a bed?
Why do I set my alarm clock?
Why do I feed myself breakfast?
Why do I set out from my home, into the sprawling,
human-inhabited land around me, to pursue a life for myself?
...no really, why?
Does this not sound like the most elementery of questions?
In my mind, this should have been figured out by the ancient cultures long ago so we could get on to more important things. But, oddly enough, we are still stuck on it.
I am terrified with the conclusion I am drawing in my head as the silent seconds tick on: We are here (so incredibly here. Getting our hearts broken. Stubbing our toes. Mowing our lawns with ripped jeans. Saying things we regret. Loving passionately. Hating vehemently. Being so bored we could cry.) and nobody knows why. Or cares to figure it out. It's a fun discussion topic for students in humanities classes and for fancy people in churches, but outside those doors? on the streets? no. There are more important things to talk about.
Please tell me something that's more important than this.
It's like a bunch of people got together and just started making a house. And somebody stopped and said "Whoa whoa, wait. Why are we making this house?" And everybody just looks at him and shrugs their shoulders and continues to work, kind of bugged about this guy interrupting their conversations. But some guy goes "Good question. I have no idea!" and starts working again.
Can this possibly be the truth?
My eyes, for some reason, are still a little puffy from when I woke up even though it is 3:00 in the afternoon. I'm sitting in my usually seat on the other side of a giant "U" that is formed by the tables and sharing some cranberries with Bandera, the girl that sits next to me. Another day. Another philosophical conversation will ensue. My teacher is jazzed as always. All the usuals are there. And we're all talking. Discussing. This time about Aristotle's "Ethics".
Discussion is our only survival tactic to make it until 4:20. So we discuss the time away.
"So Aristotle decides that the ultimate happiness is found when we fulfill our function as human beings." Professor Banning announces happily. "What is our function as human beings?"
Simple question? Sounds so.
Any answers? none.
Why am I here?
Why do i own a bed?
Why do I set my alarm clock?
Why do I feed myself breakfast?
Why do I set out from my home, into the sprawling,
human-inhabited land around me, to pursue a life for myself?
...no really, why?
Does this not sound like the most elementery of questions?
In my mind, this should have been figured out by the ancient cultures long ago so we could get on to more important things. But, oddly enough, we are still stuck on it.
I am terrified with the conclusion I am drawing in my head as the silent seconds tick on: We are here (so incredibly here. Getting our hearts broken. Stubbing our toes. Mowing our lawns with ripped jeans. Saying things we regret. Loving passionately. Hating vehemently. Being so bored we could cry.) and nobody knows why. Or cares to figure it out. It's a fun discussion topic for students in humanities classes and for fancy people in churches, but outside those doors? on the streets? no. There are more important things to talk about.
Please tell me something that's more important than this.
It's like a bunch of people got together and just started making a house. And somebody stopped and said "Whoa whoa, wait. Why are we making this house?" And everybody just looks at him and shrugs their shoulders and continues to work, kind of bugged about this guy interrupting their conversations. But some guy goes "Good question. I have no idea!" and starts working again.
Can this possibly be the truth?
2.15.2010
shots from my life
that I want to show you guys but just don't have a great story surrounding them. just a moment in time where I pulled my little green camera out of it's case, aimed and shot and then slid it back in. have a look into my dailys:
lovers.
Sometimes (always) forget that I live in Denver.
sharpee, white-out and anthro. mag cutout.
funny art-room posters.
This is my uniform.
craft-making remnants.
unpacking mechandise at Starlet
print-making homework at Metropolitan State College of Denver ("metro")
admiring.
my home in it's usually blanket of snow.
pumpkin massacre on the street outside my house.
lovers.
Sometimes (always) forget that I live in Denver.
sharpee, white-out and anthro. mag cutout.
funny art-room posters.
This is my uniform.
craft-making remnants.
unpacking mechandise at Starlet
print-making homework at Metropolitan State College of Denver ("metro")
admiring.
my home in it's usually blanket of snow.
pumpkin massacre on the street outside my house.day before halloween.
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