It's getting out of hand again lately. Shutting car doors 3 times, knocking on wood 3 x 3 times about one hundred times a day whenever anything remotely negative crawls inside my head.
Washing my hands obsessively on photo shoots, rubbing my left knee, then my right, then my left, etc. anytime I kneel...to such a degree that an assistant commented on it and retold my friends later when we went for drinks after work. Anytime anything comes in physical contact with me I have to brush that area clean with my hand 3 times then touch it 3 times for 3 seconds, then tap it 3 times.....what the FUCK!?!?!?!?!?!?
I bought a little green wooden rattle ball yesterday for no reason and carried it in my right hand all day and rolled it in full cirles in my palm 3 times anytime I heard it make a noise. My friend asked my why I was buying it when she saw me standing at the counter with it and I replied "I don't know-I can't explain to you...OK - it's making me buy it".
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Saturday, January 28, 2006
dream
Can't explain why, but lately I haven't wanted to reveal the goings on in my mind on this blog anymore, but dreams don't count, so here is a snip-pit of the dream I had last night:
I was in an oversized house that had a warehouse sized floor of large bins and short aisles of antiques. In that store I wandered in a state of blissful hysteria through the rows of items, pointing at the things that caught my eye, but I was painfully aware of a time constraint that kept me constantly walking through looking at everything, never having time to really stop and inspect the items.
In any case, within that rushed sensation I stopped upon a little old dollhouse that had little white rectangular price stickers on each of the tiny furniture items inside of it. "How darling!" I thought, that even the tiny furniture in the dollhouse was considered antique and of individual value. Then I squinted closely to see the prices and was a bit nonplussed at how overpriced they all were. Then I noted a little clock on the wall that was just a circular paper cutout with the numbers penciled in and that it was priced at $9.22 and this outraged me. I peeled the phony paper clock off the wall and took it to the register to complain and a small shouting match between the overseer of the store and I ensued. He tried to justify the price by stating the fact that whoever made that paper and pressed lead clock had made it long ago when they owned the dollhouse, and that therefore due to the time-period it was made in, it was considered an antique drawing, rendering it a valuable item.
I was in an oversized house that had a warehouse sized floor of large bins and short aisles of antiques. In that store I wandered in a state of blissful hysteria through the rows of items, pointing at the things that caught my eye, but I was painfully aware of a time constraint that kept me constantly walking through looking at everything, never having time to really stop and inspect the items.
In any case, within that rushed sensation I stopped upon a little old dollhouse that had little white rectangular price stickers on each of the tiny furniture items inside of it. "How darling!" I thought, that even the tiny furniture in the dollhouse was considered antique and of individual value. Then I squinted closely to see the prices and was a bit nonplussed at how overpriced they all were. Then I noted a little clock on the wall that was just a circular paper cutout with the numbers penciled in and that it was priced at $9.22 and this outraged me. I peeled the phony paper clock off the wall and took it to the register to complain and a small shouting match between the overseer of the store and I ensued. He tried to justify the price by stating the fact that whoever made that paper and pressed lead clock had made it long ago when they owned the dollhouse, and that therefore due to the time-period it was made in, it was considered an antique drawing, rendering it a valuable item.
Monday, January 23, 2006
busy bee
Sorry I have been so absent. Working 12-15 hour days, then partying with friends, trying to make the most of my last weeks here. Spent the weekend in Big Sur beneath the redwoods and the warm sun. Bought a dark stained wooden chair dating from the early 1900's at an antique store on our way there. Took a book called Reliving Past Lives off the used book shelf at the library there and haven't put it down since I forked over my $4 for it. That's about it...thrilling I know!
Thing is life is so exhilarating right now and I've momentarily decided to finally just live my life in the moment and not try to document it with words here or in my personal journals or to photograph it or try digging through boxes of strangers faces in musty dark antique houses to wonder about their lives either for that matter. My quiet eyes are just steadily sucking in their surroundings and the feeling in my chest of contentedness is a bit overwhelming. Anyway...so that's why there are no pics and no details of all the glory of my current moments and interactions.
Thing is life is so exhilarating right now and I've momentarily decided to finally just live my life in the moment and not try to document it with words here or in my personal journals or to photograph it or try digging through boxes of strangers faces in musty dark antique houses to wonder about their lives either for that matter. My quiet eyes are just steadily sucking in their surroundings and the feeling in my chest of contentedness is a bit overwhelming. Anyway...so that's why there are no pics and no details of all the glory of my current moments and interactions.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
I am consumed with...
love for this wooden creature we purchased. I'm experiencing overwhelming nolstagia as I stroll around San Fran, can't believe I'm leaving it for a snowy-grey climate....we'll see how long it lasts. Bittersweet stinging tears roll down my face unprovoked at least once a day. Sucks seeing my friends bummed out over our leaving. Some are not taking it so well...makes me blue.
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