"there's a movie - normally i'd call that a film - but it moved me. . . and that didn't rhyme with film."

Today is fall again, or close. Do you know those days when you can hardly sit still? When running would be a relief, even though I hate running, because at least if I ran I would be able to be out there, seeing and feeling the wind and listening to bugs (even though I hate bugs). Or do you know those days when every bit of sun that touches your skin delights, and every breath is a joy, and even tiredness and hunger feel great because you are suddenly feeling in tune with your body?

Do you ever wake up surprised? It isn't at anything particular. . . just surprise, welling up from the collar bone and into the eyes, so every sound and bit of light registering on your brain pathways elates.

That is the closest I can get to describing fall.

Last week, I wasn't ready for classes to start. This week. . . I am still not ready for classes to start. But I am kind of excited to be in the studio. I am excited to see all my friends again. I am excited to get feedback on my ideas from my professors. And I'm tired of waiting, you know? If it's going to be hard, I'd rather start it right now, while I am feeling capable.

This weekend exactly suited me. I disconnected from pretty much everything I didn't want to do (answer e-mails, blog, clean the apartment, run errands). I mapped out, at least in my own mind, the likely trouble points of the semester, and I am already making decisions about what is important to me; I know, at least in theory, which of my classes are priorities, which areas are likely to be problems in terms of maintaining my mental health, and what my goals are in terms of keeping my relationships healthy.

I'll tell you another thing that suited me about this weekend. I got white pine! I found a board whose dimensions and grain I really liked, and I started carving (thanks to Greg's table-saw skills). I'm relieved to find that Greg & I can be in the same space working at the same time without (at least on my end) a sense of conflict. And come to find out, when I get over myself and stop being afraid to discuss my ideas with Greg. . . well, I feel positive about the results. I hate to discuss my ideas with anyone before I have examples to show them (although I did change this habit a little bit in Orvieto from necessity), and I felt that discussing them in that infant stage with Greg would be particularly complicated. I'm not saying it will be OK every time. . . but. . . I'm keeping an open mind about bouncing ideas around with him in the future. Between the two of us, this idea refined to something I'd be quite excited to see in a gallery. And you know, not only would I be excited to see it in a gallery, it's something that I feel is me, authentic. I never had anything authentic to say with art before this past spring semester. Do you know how freeing it is for your voice to find you, and for it to sound loudly?

And even the end of the weekend, coming back late last night and walking into my deserted apartment. . . well, even that was good, because I wasn't afraid of it. (Italy really did help me in a lot of ways.)

So that was my weekend, loves. How was yours? Does anyone know their projected arrival times on campus yet? Or is that way too far in the future to bother with?