Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Saturday, February 19, 2011

SPRING// OBSESSED

I've been obsessed with this song for over a year and still really can't get over it. I specifically like the way Patsy Cline sings it in this video:





And I also really love how Norah jones sings it in this one:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzQyzZBMQ8M

I am desparate for Springg! I can't wait.
















Monday, February 14, 2011

first house design

Spilled sauce on a napkin- its now architecture:

Im crashing hard I wish I could explain more.

Happy v-day im wearing a heart in my hair given to me by Kiwi.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Old me

Just found a few videos from a year ago of me working in my old apt in boston, sometimes i wish i was a huge loner again. life seemed so much more poetic.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Existential: wtf!?!? Recently, I realized that because I decided to be ambitious and impulsive and go to Cooper Union to study architecture I can't really travel. I also will never really have a break. I feel exceptionally exhausted from this kind of life. I'm feeling sort of like I want to have a life where I enjoy myself and things and events and the world. I wonder if this will happen before I'm 30. Maybe. For now I'll probably just have these ideas in my head about where I could be- it seems that because of my past I get over things and want something else and then I get what I want and- turns out its not so great. So, I think I'll stick to cooper until I'm 25.

I will also just day dream about perpetual waters and mountains with clouds as best friends and making paintings.











Monday, January 10, 2011

streaming

I miss missing you, my old self, feeling the now-ness, and having goals. Dreams are too real, I dream of what is in my head before I close my eyes.

And who are you?  who I have let into my life and let be in and on my head. Its a new kind of introduction to another existence, to me. I don't think I ever knew you. You are a stranger, like the rest. A new yorker, or something. And now its winter and I am beautiful to another [stranger], who cares anyway though because inside I can only feel the surpressed painter, thinker, writer, maker.

Its like water, you know? Or like the beach from my experience, different waters touch the sand perpetually and the same water from before is now miles away. Just like that super fast, and you dont even remember it because the new water is the same as the one that touched the same land a minute ago. Like growth, SORT of. It feels like that.