This is something I feel like you’re ‘supposed to know’, and maybe I do in a way. Ideas, after all, are the beginning of everything. But I sat thinking about something on the bus today, the random sounds we make. Seriously, what even are words? Sure, we understand them, because our brain makes sense of them, but without that we’re just a bunch of creatures shaping our mouths differently. Or these letters. Lines and dots. We have a deal you know, when I write this, we have agreed what the words mean. If someone disagreed with you, or if everyone did, you’d be a lunatic drawing strange shapes and making weird noises without being able to reach anyone. It’s the same with money. Money doesn’t exist. It’s a freakin’ piece of paper. It would be as meaningless as any other dead tree if you wouldn’t think it symbolises some sort of value, or more importantly, if no one else thought so either. It’s something we know I suppose, but when I heard that ideas make up the world, I thought it was because they were the beginning of everything. An idea that then turns into something real, all that makes up the world. Maybe my mistake was considering just the things real. Ideas aren’t valuable because they come from sudden inspiration and result in something else, they’re valuable, because they are everything, they’re not the beginning, they’re just it. Things start with ideas, but systems are ideas. And systems are deals we’ve made in the hope of creating a better world, now we must all uphold them unless we want it to collapse.
Tag Archives: writing
Vacation-ish
I’m happy now, which is nice. I’m at my grandmas summerhouse next to a lake and I got to sleep in the big glass room with all the plants. They only have candles out here. Candles and the strong scent of flowers I didn’t quite notice during the day. My body is itching with this, the need to get away, get out of places, maybe that’s why I’m happy to just fall asleep under a different roof, regardless of where I am. My wanderlust is so unpredictable, sometimes barely there and sometimes so strong that I get happy-sad just from talking about islands far away. Anyway, I’ve also been so fascinated with conversations lately. I’ve always been allergic to small talk, meaningless conversation, but I’ve realised I’ve got no clue what constitutes meaningless. A few days ago I went to pick up a friend at the airport, and on the way there I spoke for ages with another friend, conversations that might not always have been about the deepest stuff, but still were exactly the social interaction I needed. Today I spoke to someone else and I suppose the topics were sort of serious but I was just very bored. And this is no expected ’teenager bored of her family’ stuff, I just didn’t get anything out of it. Maybe it’s because the conversation was just different people speaking. It didn’t have any life in itself. Sometimes conversations soar and fly and run away to places you could never expect, and you get excited, because you want to catch up. And sometimes it’s just one person talking about something, and then someone else talking about something different. Don’t you want to spin on, dig deeper into the subject, speak fast or slow but have the sort of conversation that’s a journey instead of a silent destination? I love the run.
Sweet dreams (or happy mornings)
What do you want?
Ask yourself:
What do you really want?
What do you still want?
Here is my current list:
- Jesus
- Love (friends, family)
- Art, to live and breathe and soak in it
- Fresh flowers
HappinessTruth- To run away and see the world
Keep writing these lists. Find what doesn’t change.
What happened with the days?
The days when the world was new, sky bright and beginnings chasing endings, roadside writing and barefoot jumping where we shouldn’t
They turned auburn and sultry, sweet like smoke and pretty like stitches and open wounds and fire (Then all things died before they grew again (All but people is circular))
(What happened to the days) They didn’t change. But the lines in you face are there to stay and as long as you say you always have now you’re lying the way our hearts teach us from the very first day (about immortality and life)
In the infinite expanse of time, the sun will rise as brightly the day you die as it does now. May your bruises leak sunshine and your heart be sore from memories of move
The Lazarus trees will never teach you how
Days don’t grow old the way bodies do.
Problem of The Artist (The Ability – Ambition Gap)
There are two sides to any sort of creating:
- What you want to express, say, do.
- Your ability to do it.
The first one, many people have, the second one, not so many. Because the first one is instinctual. Natural. Inspired by the outside world, but also everything you are, letting it out. The second one means fighting for the first one. Because it all comes down to communication, making other people see what you see, whether it’s through a text or a video or a picture or something completely different. And this is where it’s easy to give up, because a lot of time the gap between the first and the second point will seem impossible to get over. For a great part of my life, I’ve never even thought about the fact that maybe one day I will be able to paint down what I see in my head and be happy with it. But I believe that day will come. I hope it will, because I have to. That’s how you continue. Because everything you create and become unhappy with is a part of what you will create and be happy with, later. It’s the warm up. You’re building up to it. Do it publicly or secretly, just know that one day you will see your soul in a creation. And if the first thing, your want to express something, is strong enough to get you through the ups and downs of the second step, then I suppose you’re an artist.
Last dance
I don’t like endings.
There something special about being backstage. Too many lights and wires you’re not allowed to touch, your own little corner where you put your things, and the way you see the entire show being built up and practiced. And then the doors open, and for a few hours people get to see what you have been working on for weeks, months. And then the doors close and everything gets shut down and is no more. It’s not a painting or poem to keep. The performance only exists when you perform it, and then it’s forever gone.
I can usually look forward to do it all over again the next year, but now I graduate and have to quit just when I feel like I actually know everyone.
So yeah, and I cried. Which was awkward, because my face gets completely red and I can’t hide it at all, and everyone get really surprised and slightly scared because I don’t usually cry and no one expects it from me. I wasn’t really that sad though. It’s just way too good, so when the curtains fall for the last time, I panic because it’s over it’s over it’s over.
Love
Art journal video!
So I practiced my editing skills a bit by editing a video of me flipping through my journal. And it’s not the highest quality of art haha, just whatever random things I feel like writing or doodling, but it’d mean a lot if you checked it out anyway! And I’m thinking about uploading more videos, so subscribe if you think that’s a good idea. Peace out or something
T minus 30 (days)
5 things I’m stressed out over
- I’ve got no job for the summer. Because I was going to maybe be involved in this dance project, but then nothing happened.
- Well, I’ve got no plans for life at all pretty much (quite a lot of dreams though).
- in 30 days I graduate and I have a million things to do before then.
- In 30 days I’ll leave my class in school, my art class, my dance class, my christian school group, all these small communities that I’ve taken for granted.
- What if I fail doing everything I’ve ever wanted.
5 things I’m grateful for
- I have so many fun things ahead of me during these last few weeks.
- How a school class always becomes really social when everyone realises that this will end soon.
- This is such a beautiful and bittersweet time.
- That I haven’t let fear of uncertainty lead me to seek structure I do not want.
- What if I succeed.
Work in progress, the sort of thing it’s fun to be busy with.
Skies and sleep
Today I woke up twice, once at dawn and once at sunset. When I woke up in the morning everything smelt like rain. The sky was blue but the early sun reflected in dark grey clouds sinking to the horizon and everything was wet so I suppose it rained during the night.
I went to school and found out that my only class was cancelled and went back home.
I walked half an hour to take the bus to go to the dentist. I get on the bus in the middle of nowhere when I take that bus, so I walk away from my neighbourhood and further until I reach the motorway and walk in the tunnel underneath it and everything around me is green fields as long as I can see. I left my things at the bus stop on a long open road and ran away to pick the flowers I saw earlier, but when I was almost there I saw the bus coming over a hill and had to run back. I picked a small white flower outside the dentist office instead and it’s pressed between the pages of my notebook.
When I got home I did the perfect four things that I know make me happy, but still rarely do; 1. Jog 2. Shower 3. Eat 4. Sleep. Without any distractions or pointless internet-browsing. So that’s why I woke up now in sunset again. At first I thought the sky was grey and that you could barely see the sun through the clouds. Then I just realised that it already had sunken right under the horizon and the sky was actually clear, but so devoid of colour that it was a light grey instead of blue. I lied in bed for a while, looked through my big windows. Picked up three different books and read a few pages of each.
And now I’ve gone back inside for that pointless interest-browsing and some toast. Though writing is rarely pointless, I think. And maybe I should not despise my internet-browsing so much, because sometimes I rather have to convince myself to like the person I am at the computer to make me stop wasting time on it.
Anyway. The sky is black when I walk back out. Stars and stars and stars above. It’s 29 days in school until our final grades are to be written into the system and then I graduate a few days later. And now life manages to be really calm and slow and stressful at the same time. Even though I’m excited for everything that comes after, it feels like I have an entire life to live until then. One of those eternities within eternities.
Midnight snack
It’s always interesting to see what my past midnight personality will end up doing. Yesterday it was fudge.
Now, I don’t bake a lot. And not because I don’t enjoy cookies and pastries, but because I’m lazy as fu…dge. But after midnight my personality always turns a bit unpredictable. There’s a quote about this I think:
There. Over thinkers. Silent seekers. A nicer way to say that I turn a bit crazy. Here, another picture:
Kind of how my brain looked last night, if you would change the pictures of the universe to pictures of chocolate fudge. Actually how my brain looks now, because even thought I’m gonna post this tomorrow, it’s still 2 am now when I start to write this (obviously..). I’m gonna take some pictures of it tomorrow though, 2 am has got horrible lighting. Now I should probably go to bed.
2 am. See? Horrible lighting (And see how it’s kind of grainy in texture? Yeah, that’s because it’s mostly just sugar)
Next morning. So I ate most of it for breakfast and got a stomach ache. Difference between kid and adult life: now you’re responsible for your own candy intake and can’t whine about things like that.
Probably shouldn’t call it fudge, basically just a sugary, chocolate-y thing that tastes good with your cereal.
The recipe I used I found here: http://chefronlock.com/recipes/midnight-snack-quick-microwave-fudge/ My requirement when googling was that it hade to be something sweet and unhealthy, I had to have all the ingredients at home and I had to be able to make it in a few minutes. Since this recipe was awesome I might even add this to my list of Things I do after midnight when I should really be sleeping, along with eating pomegranate and drinking tea, drawing, dancing in the kitchen and taking long baths. Well.
Much love!
(Edit: Looking back at this post and seeing how little sense it made. Hah.)
eirians 