dancingbull

I was on bike and running late for my history of jazz class aaand while I’m biking past the nest I saw this very large, planet of a girl walking out of the library. Like a lot of people, she was dressed up in her costume for the day. She was donning this light blue springtime kimono made of cheap fabrics and carried a matching parasol. She had that walk that overweight people sometimes do, that kind of slow bulky sway, you know?

My first thought was, “Wow, another damn white girl in a cheap oriental costume”; (I can elaborate on this later). But as I got closer to her I saw that she was so very happy. Happy isn’t even the word, I can’t think of a word really; she was just so content with herself. Up close, her walk wasn’t that heavy overweight walk, it was more buoyant, the fabrics flowing behind her. She looked like a short, round, oriental Mary Poppins and she was about to take off.

I don’t know… you just had to see her yourself I guess.

All this happened within about 5 seconds. I biked past her and it made me smile. It was just one of those things, you know? Where you see someone walking and for whatever reason they are smiling and it makes you feel better; you end up smiling too.

Oh, the little things.

Cities do not enjoy such architecture
as now stands before me.
Other buildings employ
steel and glass
to stand so tall,
but I prefer your gentle
construction of alabaster skin.
and should the towers
of your shoulders fall
and your chest return
to the earth,
bury me in your rubble.
I have the blueprint of your smile
stored safely in my heart,
and i will rise and rebuild
or else die homeless.
For love is no country for tourists,
and only citizens are allowed
within its high walls.

Hear that song? I love this song. It’s one of those songs you always hear, but you never know who plays it. I’ll probably never know. I don’t want to know now. It would probably ruin the feeling. Whenever I hear this song I always feel there should be credits rolling you know? Like it’s the end of something. The end of a movie. It just brings up so much… that guitar. It’s concluding something. It’s talking. The credits are rolling over the lead actor’s dead body facedown in a gutter. The camera pans back. The rain is pouring down. And all that guitar can say is “Oh well.” “That’s Life.” “Whatever.” Every time I hear this song from now on I will remember this day and what happened and what I did. And I will remember this moment in time, right now, this exact place, the smell, everything… and the scene will freeze and the credits will roll. I never want to know who plays this song. It would ruin everything.

Hooray for stream-of-conscience~

So I’ve been mildly stressed out lately. Gotta pay for this semester of college AND next semester if I want to register; our family doesn’t have the money to do anything right now so we’re scrapin’. I think I’ll have to take a semester off to work, travel, and maybe I’ll do some Germana at the same time to get more gen-eds out of the way. I figure I can still be close enough by to see people (the cool ones, holla) and do some studio shows too. Win-win.

On a related note I got fired from my job on Caroline. Bust. The thing is that I’ve been lying to my dad telling him that I still have the job. I’m going to try to find a new job before I tell him the truth; that way, he can laugh, instead of kick the crap out me :\

Things on the relationship front are sucky too. Broke up with the duder yesterday. With everything going on I was being an asshole and really not making any time for him. We talked it out and decided that it’d be best to just chill out. It wouldn’t be fair for either of us if we stayed together, he’d be waiting on me and I’d be pressured into not being able to do my work. All is cool, whatever. There were other things at work in my little head and heart but details are obsolete. I always think I want a relationship but I always end up screwing it up, or finding a way to screw it up. I feel like I’ll someday need a relationship coach.

After the break up though, I sat down and really thought about why I haven’t been able to making things work in a relationship. While there are a lot of factors I think the expectations that my parents brought me up with have a lot to do with it along with what I expect for myself further in the future. I dunno…I’ll think about it.

I’m about to lose my laptop again. The friend who has been letting be borrow his needs it back soon. Pretty cool of him to have let me borrow it for all this time, thanks Huta. Sad day.

Been doing a lot better in my art classes; Carol (Installation) said that I’ve been on a roll lately and i need to keep it up. Sad thing is is that I’ve been staying up for unhealthy amounts of time and it’s really been kicking me in the ass.

One of my favorite songs is “Vincent” by Don McLean; Mom used to sing it a lot when I was little and it’s about Vincent van Gogh and how crazy and misunderstood he was. I found that one of my favorite singers did a cover of it and it’s awesome; here it is: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1fw18QYPQPU&feature=fvw

I wish it would stop raining.

It’s 5:49 am and I’m in the installation studio, haven’t eaten, mucho tired, can’t go back to the room due to inclement weather; it would be wise not to go back anyways since I have class here in about 3 hours. Maybe if I’m lucky I can get breakfast at Seaco. Maybe if I’m really lucky I’ll be able to surface for some air here pretty soon.

I’ve been thinking an awful lot lately.

Something on my mind a lot is how much I want to leave. I want to go out of Fredericksburg, go out of Virginia. Maybe for a weekend, maybe a month, or a semester! I don’t know and I definitely don’t care. Everyone agrees that, as nice as it is here, there isn’t anything that flows, F’burg is stagnant water. The kind of water that just sits, so much so that you can see dust particles and oil float on the surface; the feel of it is dry and viscous.

I used to move every one or two years; a different country, a different environment all the time! Canoeing and camping in the Amazon, racing across the the highest body of water in the world (twice!), learning to tango in the heart of Santiago, traveling to other countries to compete in volleyball tournaments, snowboarding with the U.S. Winter Olympic team in Chile, looking into the mouth of a Volcano (Ecuador), swimming in the Galapagos Islands, scuba diving in Mexico, horseback riding in mountains Colombia, scaling Machu Picchu, suffering France and Germany, eating real pasta in Italy, haggling for food in Otavalo, playing at a jazz festival in Rio, Brazil, and every single adventure in between. I’ve seen more things, places, people and lifestyles in 18 years that most people won’t see their whole lives.

Dropping these names and places might seem like I’m showing off; but these aren’t just places to me, these are the places I grew up. I never had a home, the world was my home (yea it might be cheesy but it’s true). It wasn’t a trip I went on, it was the life I led. When I think about it that way, my experiences in these places made me. I felt like I could do anything, go anywhere, whatever my heart desired and where ever the wind blew, I could do it.

I was raging river, a rainstorm, a tidal wave. I felt powerful.

People are confused when they see that I’m sad some days; when I tell them that I just want to leave. I feel frustrated, angry and disheartened sometimes. I feel shot down; like I’ve been…tamed. Think of polar bears! And lions, tigers, eagles, and elephants. I see these animals as these powerful kings of their worlds. To me they represent being the master of your world and your life. When I see these same animals in zoos, laying out on artificial stone, staring at the walls, the same walls every single day, a part of me hurts for them. They will never know the life they were suppose to live, they’ve been tamed.

And that’s how I feel, only that I did have that life and now I live this one; one where the most exciting things to do are beer pong and Wal-mart. All the while people underestimate me and condescend to me, and it’s one of the most frustrating things. No one knows the things I’ve seen and experiences I’ve had. I get mad when people laugh when I say I play rugby, me being gay, thin and an art major. I think to myself, “I’m tougher than I look thank you very much and I could probably kick your ass at just about everything. You are uncultured and posses no talent.”

I feel disgusted with myself when I forget who I am and the things that I’ve accomplished. But it’s hard not to forget when you grow accustomed to this idle life. I’m becoming less active, less interesting and I let people dictate how I feel and THAT, is bullshit. I need to wake up! Hello!!? Kevin!!? Who the fuck are you anymore?!?

I’ve been trying to keep the spirit alive through doing art. It really does help, it’s very satisfying. I feel like no matter what shit is being said or done to me, as long as I can make beautiful things, I’m golden; like no one can touch me. I miss the old me, he’s shrunk into mediocrity. I refuse to be mediocre! I want to be a polar bear and a hawk! and a fucking tidal wave again! I want to be this monsoon or typhoon of a person and everyone will know it!

I have amazing stories for every year and every place I’ve been. I will not let Fredericksburg be a gap in my life; if anything it will be the place where I learned what I don’t want, which is just as important as knowing what you do want. I will try to make it work here, but I will never settle. I’m going to get into the flow again and it’ll be smooth sailing from there.