Sand Castle

Today, I began my drawing practice. My mother had given me a figurine one time and it was a miniature castle made out of real sand. Somehow, the artist had gotten the sand to stick together and compact enough to create a sand sculpture out of it. I've always wanted to sketch this sand castle, and when Beth was talking about drawing yesterday, I immediately remembered it.

So today, I took out the castle, placed it about eye level a foot away from me and began to draw. Admittedly, the sand castle did not look nearly as good as the fountain I had drawn yesterday, but then I realized that a) I was drawing with a blunt-ended pencil (never good for precision in art) and that b) the sand castle was much more detailed than the fountain. I consoled myself with this as I squinted at the castle and tried drawing in its detail. Boy, did it have detail. I don't know how the original artist managed it, but as I was drawing, I noticed the cross-lattice in each tiny, pointed-arch window and I had to draw every individual brick and every individual shingle on the roof. It was incredible the amount of work that must have went into this thing. It made me appreciate art that much more, and I remembered how drawing enhanced my attention to detail, proportion, and shading. What a blast from the past. Hey, if I can combine this everyday drawing practice with my daily practice in writing, who knows? Maybe someday in the future, I WILL be able to fulfill my dream of writing and illustrating my own children's books.

Drawing in Downtown

Yesterday, my friend Beth invited me to downtown Greenville so we could pick a pretty spot to draw something. She had taken on a summer project to draw every day and today, she chose downtown. Once I met up with her, we found a nice seat that was only a few meters away from this black fountain that she wanted to draw.

We chatted as we drew (she sketched with colored pencils, I did my entire drawing in grey) and I learned lots about her. Beth even commented that we have a lot in common, and we do. We like to talk about art, architecture, sewing, all kinds of stuff. I miss conversations like this.

Beth also said something that interested me. She talked about how she knew a guy who was a terrible artist, but he practiced a lot and soon, he began to surpass her (and Beth is as talented as they come). She said that lots of practice can make someone much more skilled at something and that not all great works of art are reliant on talent or natural-born skill alone. That gave me hope. I had given up drawing and illustration when I was 13, but hearing this made me re-think things. Besides, I like this idea of drawing something every day so I think I'll take up the practice myself. I have two months of summer left so let's see what I can do with it.

By the time I came home, my stomach was rumbling. In my excitement to meet up with her, I had forgotten to eat something before I left. In any case, my mother had arrived home from work and had cooked noodles. I showed her the fountain I drew and she said, "Who drew that? YOU drew that? Huh, who thought my daughter could draw?"

"Thanks, Mom," I reply, but I was soon too busy devouring noodles to comment any further.

Sun Drunk and Lessons on Being Adult

I woke up this morning feeling dizzy. The feeling lasted through most of the day and I don't know if it's because I went swimming for three hours yesterday or because I didn't sleep well last night (I had this dream where I had to teach a 15-year-old boy named Ben Foster how to play piano, and he kept pinching me evilly whenever I did something he didn't like). Anyway, I took a nap in case it would help and there, I dreamt that I was in the Disney movie Mulan and going through all of the rigorous training of becoming a soldier for the Chinese Army. I woke to the sound of my mother stir-frying food and we had a nice chat about people we know. Recently, she has been on me about taking care of my appearance and I am starting to believe she is right. Well, I've always known she was right, but I was too indifferent to do anything about it. I really should shape up though. And dress better. And take care of my hair and skin. All kinds of things. In other words, I should emerge into that part of teenage girl life where I expend time and energy into presenting a pleasing, neat, and somewhat attractive appearance. I learned that most girls that age do it to attract boys or to become popular, but I was never too keen on either. Boys were mostly people I was interested in being friends with, not "cozy" with, and I could never understand why people wanted to be popular. If I got as much attention and friends as most "popular" people did, I would probably go over the brink. I preferred the company of books and nature to human interaction. Now it's come back to bite me in the you-know-where. Now, in my early twenties, I don't know (or care much) about how to put on makeup, how to dress to impress, and how to act charming. I just act bewildered instead and, for whatever reason, I guess that's my version of charm.

Maybe I need to take lessons on how to be an adult. Well, as soon as I get over my hangover from being in too much sun. Seriously, I'm not used to being in that much sunlight so I woke up with a headache, dizziness, and a strange hollow feeling in my stomach. Sun-drunk, in other words.

The Lake

I went to the lake with some friends yesterday and came home with sunburn. I'm very scrupulous about putting on sunscreen but I was too lazy to apply it to my face so I ended up with pink all over my skin. At the very least, I finally got the art of swimming down pat. "Keep your head away from the splash," my friend George had told me. Amazingly, it worked. I was able to swim. To think that those words were all I needed to know since I was nine. I'm still afraid of deep water, however, and I don't trust it so I never go in where the water can subsume my head.

On the bright side, I woke up for church this morning and the sunburn had faded. Surprisingly, so had a lot of my blemishes. Huh, maybe some sun is good for my skin.

Old poems

I was cleaning out my old desk when I found a cardboard box underneath it. Inside the box were some of my old books and a yellow folder marked "Stories and Poems". I opened it excitedly, reading through all of that I had written in my younger years. I also chose some poems to go into that poetry book I'm working on. With the poems from my laptop, those from the folder, and a few others I found, that makes a total of about 25 poems so far. I think I'll go through and revise some of them and then type up all of them before I put them into the collection. Hopefully, this will be done in a month. I mean, there aren't THAT many poems to go through, after all.

While I was reading through them, I realize that most of my poetry sounds like it was meant for children to read while others sound like song lyrics. Only a few might pass for "contemporary young adult poetry." I suppose I can divide my poetry into sections based on their type--children's rhymes, song lyrics, and contemporary young adult. I would also like to write little notes on each one about what inspired each poem or the possible meanings behind them. When I re-read them today, I was struck by how some poems sound really obscure and could probably be lost on a reader.

Also, I am debating on other ways to divide up the poems. Chronologically perhaps? Or by subject? Or maybe I will just go with my original plan and divide them by type. We'll see.

Uranus

I was talking to Craig today when he suddenly remembered something he watched on Who Wants to be a Millionaire? A woman was up in the hot seat being questioned and a question came up that was about "which of these four planets is not named after a Roman god?" The woman said, "Well, I know it's not Jupiter and Mars. I can't put a finger on Uranus though..."

Meredith Viera, the host of Who Wants to be a Millionaire at the time, only stared at her for a moment before she said, "O...kay."

I couldn't stop laughing for ten minutes.

Hunched

You can tell a lot about someone from the way they hunch their shoulders.

You can tell if they're cold. Or if they're shy. Or if they're self-conscious. Or if they're used to hiding their face from the world.

You can tell a lot about a person from the way they walk.

You can tell if they have confidence. Or just a limp. You can tell if they are pregnant. Or if they really, really, REALLY need to use the restroom. Or just if their shoes are too tight. Or their underwear is chafing them.

You can tell a lot about people from what they wear. You can tell what bands they like. You can guess their favorite color. You can tell if they skateboard in their free time. Or if they dress for practicality and comfort over style and beauty. You can even tell if they are rebellious. Or slightly strange. Or slightly off. Or slightly like you.

You can tell a lot about people
From what they don't tell you.

J'ai fini

I just finished my last exam of my last year of college.

Whoa.

Now on to graduation and finding a summer job!

Reading about marriage

I was reading about privilege today and how it is legitimated through social means. The author used the example of marriage and how people who want to marry may be "privileged" since they are able to engage in this social institution without being questioned. For example, while some people may have to justify the partner chosen for marriage, they do not have to justify why they want to get married. Marriage is a social institution. It has rules, regulations, and cultural recognition and expectations. People don't question why you want to get married. 90% of all American adults marry at least once in their lifetime and people who divorce can (and do) marry again. On the other hand, people who NEVER marry may have to justify their decision.

I was reading this out of a used textbook and whoever owned the book before me had underlined the same passage about marriage and wrote "interesting" in the margins. I agree with this commentator. I find it interesting how we don't question some of the cultural aspects that surround us. For example, why do we have an economy based on paper money instead of, say, trade? Perhaps because paper money is an easier form of currency to circulate. Also, because one unit of money is the same anywhere else in the country whereas a jeweled bracelet, for example, is valued more in some places and less in others.

Oh, I'm rambling again. I just thought an intellectual musing would be more interesting than actually discussing my life. Right now, it is exam week at my school and I have been doing nothing but papers and studying for the past few days. Also, I've been feeling more depressed lately but that is not something I want to get into right now.

Lastly, I feel...

Eh, enough about feelings. Let's get some sleep.

Miso Soup and Hibachi and...Frogs

I spent an evening with an old friend of mine, helping him cook Hibachi. I cut up carrots for his pan-fried rice and chopped mushrooms and green onions for miso soup. The miso had so much flavor! I was surprised at the burst of flavor on my tongue and I thought it tasted better than restaurant fare. When I told him this, he waved a hand and said that restaurants tried to rip you off. We continued cooking while we discussed food and mixed drinks and fine forms of cooking. Soon, his neighbors came over for dinner and we went to pick up his best friend so she could join us as well. After dinner, we sat around talking about pet peeves, history, animals that we were afraid of, and hairy men who shouldn't take their shirts off.

One neighbor, Zach, said that he was deathly afraid of frogs and then continued to tell the story of how his phobia began. He was visiting his cousin and she wanted to show him her pet frog. Well, as soon as she had it in her hands and showed it to Zach, the frog jumped up and attached itself to Zach's face. He didn't know what to do so he screamed, flailed his arms, and ended up flinging the frog across the room. Of course, his cousin starts screaming, "You KILLED it!" and Zach tried to apologize, saying that he didn't know what to do.

"Did it die?" his roommate asked.
"No, but it did go into a coma for a few days."

I swear, I hadn't laughed that hard in a long time.