6.13pm
Thursday
2 December 2004
I regret that three people who know me know the blog, and it has become impossible for me to be honest about my sexual experiences without hurting someone's feelings. Sex is connected to death and violence, to fights between the physical and mental, and I find it constantly fascinating, the observations of my own reactions and the pulling back and tentative reaches of a partner. Sex is life.
-z
I took a moment away from writing, not intentionally, but just because I wanted to take a complete vacation from my life for Thanksgiving, and then just because I've been quite boring in the last few days and with little of merit to report. Perhaps it is just my current craving for the rockstar life and for absurd and dizzying head over heels love that makes me consider my current activities lackluster, but there it is. I'm deadly dying for REAL CONTACT and INTIMACY and the only person I've really experienced it with lately is my mom.
We drew things together quite a bit over the break, and I'm hoping to be able to starting posting drawings/paintings semi-regularly.
To wit:
An apple.
A gardenia from a tree in my parents' yard.
Both of them are in pastel, on pretty paper my mom had from a trip to Paris a few years ago.
On that note, I'm going to be taking a Figure Drawing class this winter (starting January 8th) at the Atlanta College of Art. If that's the sort of thing that you might be interested in also, I would love to have a buddy that I know and with which can giggle about nudity.
• × • × • × •
I'm about to spend a bit of time at the High, for the first time in months, and I think an evening of being out by myself likely to do me a great deal of good. SATURDAY, I have delicious Athens plans, involving painful amounts of rocking out. Too bad I never feel like I am at maximal hotttness when I am in Athens, due to the psychotic amount of hot girls there. Too bad I cannot make a pretty hairclip out of my HOT HOT BRAIN.
• × • × • × •
Are you ready for Christmas??? I SO am. I am about to burst in anticipation of twinkly lights and the smell of cider and evergreen in the house. I love it more and more every year. I still haven't come up with a way to reconcile that deep intense love with my deep intense hatred for "organized religion in general, and Christianity specifically."