Quick-

She wrote,

I've found two jobs to tackle and a pile of books to mow, miles and miles of project thinks and nowhere to put them.

Enlarged embroidery might be coming to a theater near you...

"Thin Line"

Swimming in Justin Timberlake and Macklemore, the cars carry my thoughts toward and away, pulse. Mt. Rainier came out behind clouds yesterday, his presence a grace.

I could pretend to be lost. I could say, I don't know what I'm looking at, where to go. 

I bought a Paul Klee self-help book. I also bought a book on how to write about art. I am lapping up Tar Baby and looking out of windows. 

I could say I don't deserve, but that isn't it, either. I could say I am sad, still--forgiveness not budging. These are false, too.

I am still in need of The Heist. It's hard to ignore my anxiety regarding framework, thinking the voices messed me up and prevented any kind of movement.

"Neon Cathedral"

Smells like summer in the dead of spring, and how can I pine for a place that has never been mine.

All my energy used up to organize an exhibition and feigned importance. 

One day I won't have to smell the summers my childhood consisted of.

Air

I've suffered from "artist's block" since October 2013 (over 6 months strong). I made work to make work, stuffed my face with Deleuze and Breaking Bad, hiding and running and ignoring.

All actions as "away" and not "toward."

Easing back into spring semester proved a mountain of forgiveness and I was not ready to walk through blinding snow a second time. My teeth held so much disappointment, jealousy, greediness and arrogance, and yet the spiritual high came anyway, the love flooded me anyway.

Caught between sprinting and holding, giving in versus giving up, I fought my way through.  I was asked if I hit a brick wall in a project and there was no way through it, what would happen?

I knew I had to make a map. It was time enough to set the ideology in total motion, to forget studio work isn't necessarily rewarded immediately. I set up an impermanent workshop, falling back in love with moving hands instead of holding wrists to cope. I grasped wrong ideas and faltered breaths, dropping the failures once I learned from them. I grew. I encompassed the wall and allowed it to fuel my actions, toward.

Toward the ideology I began to know, letting go of superimposed pre-set labels of What. I am knowing How, translating it into a new What. I am making a manifesto and not a conspiracy theory. I am an artist researcher, hold the hyphen and quotation marks.

This is the true thing I know I am called to do.

24-Hour Day Trip

An escape left samples undone, a slight decay in productivity. Sleep heals all, and again I am on a spiritual all-time high. 

After avoiding my studio practice for two weeks, it is time to jump back in and read Deleuze's The Fold, revamp my resume and start making objects instead of reorganizations.

Running

Completed the research paper-project in 26 hours the past 4 days (writing, only). 

Inventory day today, meeting later and taking time this morning to try and breathe. Still on adrenaline from finishing last night...

It's time to start organizing for the show in May

(and actually making things for the show…)

Timed Schedule

Set time constraints for working instead of tangible goal posts—it's a time for skipping sleep and finding love in over-working. Writing lists so as not to forget things. Listening to Joan of Arc soundtrack. Drinking copious amounts of chai tea, black.

A ponytail is the only working haircut these days.

Addicted to Working

Still wavering between three rows or four rows in my modern quilt, still on edge about designing a project for the "show," still writing the last paragraph for the book report due in five hours.

Still holding my breath about the weather, pending

Spring Cleaning

Walked straight through the latter half of the United States, spent an entire week apart. Work was irrelevant and I got up to make my bed. I absorbed the sun and brought it home to below freezing weather.

A solid critique tomorrow is the first hard date I've had in two weeks. Directed study will begin in the original studio space and organized weeks will spin out.

Four projects due over the next three weeks and I'm running on solar power.

Walking on Air

Inventory Friday:

- Updated images of the Ideology research wall; anticipating a 16:9 Modern quilt sketch soon
- Experienced the easiest exhibition application ever
- Self-consciously realized the Midwestern persona, and I am doomed

Progress has exponentially taken off since a meeting on Tuesday with a mentor. Between reviewing notes for midterms and constructing the ideology, alongside full-time student, I have been pushing 15 hour work days. This evening will loosen the knots in my back.

I keep wavering between arrogance and humility, slowly tapering down to a single, centered human being. It is strange to love something nobody else wants to see.