rina
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2007 27 September :: 11.58pm
:: Mood: amused
:: Music: music of the spheres - the receiving end of sirens
my people were fair and had sky in their hair
there is so much running around here: early wake up call and then separate views of perspective, the study of the human as we are vain vain creatures and then --- oh. and then it's plunging, straight-forward, into the portrayal of the basic principles of design using the formal elements, visual literacy, a touch of 4d to transfer into and some sequential design studies of the universe.
it's bright and alive and wonderful.
i live in a building that has a ghost, with construction downstairs, and the way i get to class is down a fire escape. its hot and sticky outside, the kind of heat which is cloying and forever sticking to your skin, even after you've gotten indoors.
(which is not to say that the sleepless nights are bothering me still. they aren't. it's for good reasons anyway, so i suppose that's a change for the better.)
sometimes i will sit outside the library, on round stone benches with the sun blocked out by leaves, and that is when i will remember.
this, i will say to myself, this is what i've been waiting for. art school: a bachelor of fine arts degree in graphic & interactive communication (+a minor in advertising?) at one of the best colleges, literally, on the planet.
yes. i think i might finally be content.
sweet words
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rina
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2007 24 July :: 1.22am
:: Mood: aggravated
:: Music: unemployed in summertime - emiliana torrini
i feel like i need to write something, anything, but whenever i imagine how the words should fit it just sounds stunted and careless.
sweet words
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rina
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2007 14 July :: 11.55pm
:: Music: rosie's lullaby - norah jones
stardust
she doesn't get what it all means, and sometimes it will slip through the gaps in her fingers, but then she will shake her head, and sigh, and her hands will tug at her jumper.
she's growing up in this place all over again, and suddenly little miss rosie has to worry about things like mortgages and carpets and doors, but any misplaced feeling that will bubble up inside will just get pushed down and down and down until she can almost not feel it anymore.
the thing is, she has words stuck in the back of her throat, waiting and waiting for the chance to be free from her mouth, but the silence will filter in and then it will melt into nothing.
sometimes late at night the phone will sing, and when she picks up the dial tone will hum loudly in her ear. she will wonder if it's some sort of mixed-up message, and then she will forget it by the next day. her life continues.
she travels, because it's better than the alternative, and that has to be enough. her hair is darker, and she is older, less angry. airports get to be routine and the pressure in her lungs when they lift off doesn't fade away until she will remember that this is her life, now, and she doesn't really need a home.
it's hard, but she moves on.
somewhere far away a voice crackles, disconnects, and the only sound left is a dead signal, speeding away into the night.
sweet words
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rina
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2007 27 May :: 1.36am
:: Mood: contemplative
:: Music: happy ending - mika
no hope, no love, no glory; no happy ending
i turned eighteen a week ago, and i hated it. worst birthday ever.
i also really hate the fact that i could just up and leave my life if a fictional character came to my door and offered to show me all of time and space. it's unsettling that i daydream about leaving forever, and never coming back.
1 whisper |
sweet words
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