I have fallen into fifteen-hour work days, what with projects and essays being due. This month-long intro to my last semester in undergrad has been lethargic. I am ready to be jolted out of that.

Florence + the Machine has released a new single, announced a new album. It woke me up, much like Swift's "Blank Space" did a couple months ago. This dry winter air has cracked my knuckles mercilessly, regardless of the lotion I slather religiously.

I am almost done with my first project, An Exodus. Cleaning up the edges on my paper forms was born of rage and confusion. I started a 6 feet tall drawing right next to it. I sob into my strokes, releasing the pressure I feel constantly behind my teeth. It is akin to those bursting cinderblocks four years ago that my tracing finger wanted.

And this drawing lives next to my installation while I waver between sudden loss and complete domination. I wrote three poems under the title An Exodus before I started organizing these paper forms. I hope this love that cures blindness will be evident in my project.