Monday, 25 May 2015

New shoes.

Ok so I hate that I hardly update here because I'm so busy, and I hate that I can't commit to write even just once a month, and most of all I hate that half my posts include lack-of-update apologies such as this + resolutions to put something up asap (to which I fail to deliver and the cycle repeats), so yeah I'm sorry to consistently disappoint like, the 10 of you who have any shred of trust left in me and are still reading this.

But I really want to keep this blog constantly updated, so I got an idea that while waiting for me to finish long posts, I'll add to the blog a new series of posts that aren't really my usual anecdotes, but just random one-image thoughts that appear in my head sometimes. They may be funny, they may not be, they may be rhymes or revelations or Hemingway short stories -- whatever it is I don't care because at least I write something, and for myself.

Because I find that writing really is my main form of catharsis. Whether I add images or song to it, whether I create it or appreciate someone else's work -- it makes me happy.

I've spent most of my free time (which is hardly any at all MY INSTAGRAM IS A LIE THERE I SAID IT) the past semester watching movies, reading or listening to music, but I've neglected creating on a constant basis and it is not cool for my soul.

It's like I just keep feeding myself till I'm damn fat and full but I don't give myself a chance to shit. Yknow??

Ok sorry for gross analogy. But yes the biggest thing I wrote the past year was a script, after which I spent all my time getting it shot so nope, not much writing. I scribble in my journal now and then which helps, but it's not the same as stringing words together for the purpose of creating.

And so as the stress of finalizing our films whilst getting job applications done began to creep in, I unknowingly became a huge emotional wreck for the past week. Which is really what this new shoes thing is about because I didn't even know I was irrationally fearing for my life until Raph pointed it out to me, told me to listen to some sermons, and brought me shopping and got me a new pretty pair of shoes.

It made me feel tonnes better.

(Also digressing I am so thankful to have a boyfriend who can point out my stress even when I don't realise it, then point me back to Jesus. What is this love thing I cannot.)

So yeah, I might or might not talk about this scary topic called "graduating from an art school" soon, because it might involve some serious aspects, and I don't know if anyone's even gonna take me seriously anymore because I have been drawing imposter ducks and myopic soups on this site, so nah, maybe not. But we'll see.

That aside, I feel like giving myself some space to say random things in my ugly handwriting is going to be quite therapeutic. And hopefully fun. For both of us. Ok goodnight.