"but one man loved the pilgrim soul in you"

- Yeats

I'm struggling really a lot with writer's block. I feel that I don't have time to write. I don't have time to be disciplined, to mine the images which aren't coming easily any more. Writer's block makes me irritable, but so does being stressed because I don't have time. Also, form irritates me.

I know that spring break is coming, and I want it to be now. Yes, this is me being petulant. I have no motivation. I want to be a genius and not have to do any work to become one. Poetry is hard. Art is hard. Paying attention in classes you hate is hard. I hate bioethics. And also art history seems to be getting boringer and boringer.

I'd better get all this complaining off my chest now, because Lent is coming up soon. I forget what Lent is supposed to be about. I've never been to an Ash Wednesday service. I had a friend in middle school, on the swim team, Rachel, who was Catholic, and she came to practice one night with ashes on her forehead. She also asked if peanut butter was considered a meat or not - because she couldn't eat meat (unless it was fish) on Fridays or something. I forget.

In conclusion, "Portugese poet Fernando Pessoa so wanted a literary community that he created one with his own imagination. Writing under his own name as well as invented "heteronyms," including Ricardo Reis, Alberto Caeiro, and Alvaro de Campos, he created hundreds of poems under dozens of identities. His imaginary creations wrote letters to each other and to the editors of magazines in which they praised or criticized each other’s work, and had extensively developed biographies and styles, becoming friends and supporters, mentors, or enemies of each other and their creator."

I find that funny.

"Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom."

-James Wright

"his facial hair irks me"

So, this whole catching up on sleep thing isn't going as quickly as I'd like. I'm supposed to get a couple good nights' sleep and then be as good as new, but it seems more like I'm getting a couple good nights' sleep and... my body still hates me when I wake up. How unfair is that? Also, motivation levels are rapidly dropping. I think my emotions are on a more even keel after getting adequate sleep; unfortunately, they're holding steady at the level titled "the stress is getting to me."

So yeah, all that goes to say, pray for me this week. Especially today and tomorrow. I have two big crits tomorrow, but I'm grateful that my papers got moved to Wednesday. I have no idea what I'm going to do for my research paper... but I have two more days to think about it!

just call me sheep-faced mackenzie

Well, a lot has happened this week. Emotionally it's been quite a roller-coaster, which I think has something to do with failing in the area of getting enough sleep. No matter if six hours is enough for most people, it's not enough for me. Luckily I got nine hours last night, so I'm on the way back to sanity.

I have a ton of stuff due Monday, a couple papers due Wednesday, and a lot of art history reading to catch up on. So this weekend is going to be pretty busy. Things like spring break are looming closer, and all the extra associated work (like cleaning my room) is starting to weigh on my mind. I am, however, just trying to take one day at a time... I've made it four weeks now without breaking down. If this gets to be a habit, I might make it all the way through the next seven weeks of school. = )

And when I am alone,
Oh, and when I am alone,
And when I am alone give me Jesus.

And when I come to die,
Oh, and when I come to die,
And when I come to die, give me Jesus.

You can have all this world,
But give me Jesus

---------------------------------------------------

So, I guess I'm feeling better about God lately.
Simply too much time and energy is being spent on school
and work and stuff to be spent on spiritual agonizations
that don't really have any kind of answer.  I'll know
when I know, if I ever know, and if I don't... well,
then, I guess I don't.  At least, that's what I'm
thinking right now. In another six months or so, who
knows?  I might have a freaking lot of spiritual
agonization going on.  = )  

"she... needs clothes."

- Professor Goode. About the Venus of Urbino (Titian's version). I think he was making some sophisticated point about the handmaidens in the background and the linear perspective present because it was inside (versus Giorgioni's Venus who was outdoors), but I thought it just plain sounded funny.

I took my first art history test today, and I think it went pretty good, considering that I only studied for three or four hours (I don't even remember how much. How long did our study party last, guys?), and the average in the class ended up being closer to eight. We'll see.

Also had a crit today for photography, which went OK. I didn't end up with any great pictures, but he was impressed with my use of filters, because I picked up on some hints and actually put them into use.

I also faced an emotional hurdle today. I wouldn't say major, but it was the first one of the semester, so I'm glad that it got faced and whatever. I didn't even cry. Maybe I won't have another one all week. Also I worked out with Meredith, which really helped my painting, because it's hard to tense up when your muscles are just plain tired. And layout today went good. I only had three hours of work instead of four like last week. I find it funny that I have three of my hardest classes so far, and also I'm working twice as much as in previous semesters. It is the kind of job I'm good at though, at least in being goal-oriented rather than time-oriented. I don't do as well with by-the-hour jobs. I don't know why. It's just the concept of it I guess. Efficiency matters with the one and doesn't really with the other. Working hard and efficiently at layout actually gains me more time for homework, which, when I say it that way, isn't as great. But in my head it sounds very good.

I scored as belonging first on serenity, then on the millenium falcon. I thought that was ironic, considering that those are the only two I actually know anything about. I also scored as Kaylee, which is funny, because I'm not at all like her. She is my favorite character though.

the post that ate the blog

Thanks to those who kindly alerted me to the fact that my last post was posted three times. When I hit the publish post, it said it couldn't publish, so I kept trying, and apparently it could publish.

I woke up this morning and realized just how much work I have to get ready for Monday. I wasted most of last night, but now I really need to get a move on.

Christy Forsythe, my weaving teacher, had a show open last night at our gallery. I wasn't sure what to expect. Certainly I didn't expect text-inspired work: delicate, subtle, almost minimalistic. The show had a couple of hangings (woven wire and colored thread), a sculpture (knitted wire and a metal frame), several artist's books (she made all the paper, and sewed the text onto the paper with her sewing machine), and these framed paper paintings (best I can do to explain them). I didn't like some of the work, of course, but overall I was impressed. My favorite was by far the "View from my Window" series. The larger series, I forget what it's called, flirted on the edge of being static, and actually slipped over the line a couple times. The larger hangings are nice, although maybe not as I expected from their size.

I know now why she liked my ideas involving integration of text and visual elements. It's an obsession she shares. So now I feel like I dismissed her teaching too quickly; because she demanded unrealistic acheivement, or because her personality sometimes irritates me, I didn't listen as closely or absorb as much as I should have. So I'm tempted to take another class from her, even though I know I'd hate it and go crazy in no time....

So yeah, that's what I thought about the show. Her talk was interesting, if elementary. I'm gonna go do my work now.

So, I'm sorry that what eats my life is going to eat my readers' lives too. Of course, if you object to this, you can stop reading. I won't even be angry. In that spirit, here's the poem I'm turning in today for poetry class. It's not fantastic, but I think it actually might be something, eventually. There's traces of good things there.

I Woke Up Alone

The air flowed soft waves of snow,
the ground lay an untouched page.
I floated between page,
frosted forest, and elusive heaven.
I saw painful, etched traces
of dark buried brown,
and one slow, swan-walking figure.

I was thinking that this blog might turn into some kind of artistic journaling keep tracking of thing this semester. A record of my growth as a poet. Since I can put poetry up pretty easily. I dunno. I'm thinking about it. It might not happen.

I thought it was funny that Professor Roth's bedtime fantasy is a button which would tell him if anyone has ever used a particular sentence before, and if so, when, where, and who said it. He really likes sentences that no one else has ever used before.

until i saw, /

through a round opening, some of those things
of beauty Heaven bears. It was from there
that we emerged to see - once more - the stars.

-Dante.

I finished the inferno.

I finished layout at 1:30. Yay for sleeping more than last week.

and i saw a thing / that i should be afraid

When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask; But patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at His bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait."

oh, and also, I wanted to post this, title provisional:

(you'll laugh, Liz, to realize that this writing prompt is bearing fruit so long after you told me about it)

Day Moon
2/9/06

The moon breaks custom.
In winter, it does not restrict itself
to black, but, a quarter
up the sky, its eyes reflect our sphere's haze.
It melts into cobalt satin,
guarding our transition into dark.

did you know that physician assisted suicide is legal in the state of oregon?

I learned that today, and it was very interesting and unnerving. I think I don't ever want to live in Oregon.

I'm getting pretty interested in this whole euthanasia/physician assisted suicide (pas) debate. More than I thought I would be. I do have a lot of preconceived notions about death, I guess. For instance, palliative care v. pas? Can palliative care really take care of most of the pain and make someone comfortable as they're dying? How large a load of guilt would the physician carry who had, say, prescribed a month's supply of barbiturates knowing that the patient intended to end his/her life with them?

What is the moral distinction between killing and letting die? Not just in the context of today's medical profession, either (where I think the distinction is pretty clear). To take a totally classic example, let's talk about the good samaritan... with a few modifications. There are three people lying by the side of the road. A priest comes along, 'has mercy' on one of the men and kills him, because he's so severely injured he could never recover. A levite comes along, 'has mercy' on one of the men, and kills him for the same reason. A samaritan comes along, and seeing the crazy extent of the remaining man's injuries, 'has mercy' on him and leaves him there to die, because there's no way he could be rehabilitated. Is the samaritan being a better person than the priest or the levite?

Or Batman. Admittedly, he's facing a pure evil villain bent on the destruction of society as he knows it, but is he really a much better person because he only engineers a situation for the villain to die in and then refuses to help him out of it, rather than just directly stabbing the guy's eyes out? You got to admit, interesting questions.

Also, I'm taken aback by the violence of most people's feelings about death and the right way to meet it. Or else they refuse to think about the way they'd like to meet death at all.

As Christians, I think that it's never permissible to take our own lives, or to ask a physician to assist us in that. Even when the pain of death cannot be alleviated by palliative care, is there not something to be gained from suffering? We say that suffering has purposes in life. Why would it not have a purpose at death? I woke up this morning thinking about death (which is admittedly depressing) and I thought, could suffering before death not be a kind of weaning process? Not just for the patient, but for the patient's family. Emphasizing, so to speak, the difference between this life and the eternal one, letting us face it better, in the end. But then, what if the suffering goes on for years, rather than a few months or a few weeks or days? Would the magnitude of that suffering wipe out any purpose it might have?

though chains be of gold

So we did screw up the first issue, but I tore it apart with my black magic marker, and that made me feel slightly better. Sort of a cleansing process, or a redemptive process - like if I know what my mistakes were, I can take them back or something. Anyway, next issue is going to be freaking flawless. I swear it on the rest of my cookies.

I so hate it when my curiousity is thwarted, you know? I seriously do. Which is why I'm going to not explain that statement. If I have to suffer from the pangs of curiousity then so does everyone else (or maybe those are just pangs of hunger... it's been seven hours since I ate last).

Ok, so probably most of you already read that last rant. But I woke up this morning and felt like a bad person and repented of my post, so I'm deleting it. Here, yet another internet cliche is being fulfilled. Sigh.

First issue off to the publishers. Dear Lord, don't have let me screwed anything up.... Oh, and it's only nearly 4 a. m., so I'm going to go get a scant three hours of sleep before getting up for my 8 o' clock class. Yippee. Don't you envy me?

I'm tired of school.

Get this: I'm so tired I've foregone checking any and all webcomics for a whole week. Yes, it's true.

Happy birthday to Matt!

And that's about all I got to say about today. It was a good day. The nap in the middle was really great. I also got the last of the painting supplies I need. So it's just waiting for my photo paper, and rounding up film and objects for use in a photogram. I feel like I'm so close to done with this first week, and when I am done, I'm going to do a little jig in celebration of not breaking down for a whole week. Not just any week either, the first week of school, which was pretty darn stressful. Wish me luck for next week when layout starts.

Also, today in Poetry Workshop, I managed to argue with the professor and mention ninjas at the same time. I'm not sure if I'm elated or depressed.

this week can be summed up in two words: "yawn" and "ouch"

Meredith and I have been working out, and so my muscles hurt. And also lots of assignments. I'm hoping, though, that not every week will begin this crazily. Especially not once work starts.

AMAZING ORANGE-RED JACKET!!!! That's all I'm gonna say on that topic. I'm obsessed with that jacket. It's fantastic. Obsessed. Did I say that already? OBSESSED.

Paintings done, turned in, one decent one out of the mix, which is honestly more than I expected. All in all, a more decent turn-out from everyone than I expected - or than Daniel Finch expected I think. Kelsey's crazy, saying she's not a painter, but coming out with some really strong compositions and nice color.

Also, I ordered my photo paper today, and feel much poorer, but also totally excited for the class.

Alright, off to do all my poetry reading which I didn't do this afternoon because I fell asleep.