Beyond

Hurl your body into space
let gravity melt away until it feels like a silk scarf
don't worry, it won't choke you if you don't let it
just close your eyes and spin
rotate like the Earth
spin like a petal falling upwards
Your organs will glow through your skin
you'll look like a lightning bug from far away
glowing red and pink
the sun incarnate.

I had my WISE presentation yesterday, it went extremely well...My parents had shown up, as well as some of my friends (Connor, Sydney, Nick) and my lovely boyfriend. The only person who was missing was Doster, my mentor...He had known of my project for a while but had told me 2 days prior of his Prom meeting, therefore not being able to go. No sore feelings, only slight disappointment.
Everyone liked my short films, I should post them on Youtube sometime.
I gave out Kettlecorn and lemonade, and talked about the last 16 weeks of my life. It felt nice to be able to ramble on for 45 minutes, but afterwards, going home with Dylan, I had to take a nap, tired from running around all day in preparation.

I've been getting anxious about the summer...Dylan is leaving the same day I do, except only we are going very different directions. He, to summer term at our college, and I to Europe.... I'm excited but nervous. I want to do a lot of traveling alone, but I know I'm too naive for travel abroad just now, I should wait 'till I'm older, or maybe 'til I can go with a friend.
We go to London, then Amsterdam, the Paris, then Italy, taking a Mediterranean Cruise around Greece, after that, coming back to London.

Merde

This is an uninspired poem, inspired by un-inspiration.

There once was a blade of grass,

it had the spiny edges of a Betelgeuse hack saw,

and a brown spot on one side. 

It sat in the heat of summer, 

waiting for a new haircut from the mower.

Occasionally, an ant would climb to its peak, 

a sentry on guard, watching out for the Mother.

Long Live The Queen. 

The blade of grass would never become a dancer. 

Whitehouse is brutally right. 

"What do you want to be when you grow up?

Certainly not raped. "

Music and movies make a huge impact on me... They are like mood determinators, I can watch a romantic french film and feel an insane urge to call my boyfriend, or watch a contemporary assassin flick, and want to order a M14 off the internet. Music is the same, I can listen to a genre such as punk or alt, and immediately I notice something different in me. I love the way it works, its so interesting. I must experiment... This also sounds like a good start for a story... a character who becomes a different person for each genre of music he/she listens to...YES

Hands

Make shadows turn to spiders, and birds,
and the sound of thunder without the storm.
Curling into a weapon or splaying over steel strings,
the hands create what the mind can only dream.
Sounds, pictures, sculptures, they all come from those five fingered appendages.

Spam

Uhn, tss tss, uhn pah Uhn, tss tss, uhn pah
Me...and my girl...my girl named Bimbo, Limbo, Spam.

Looping sounds and making music is what Sydney and I had been up to for a bit, after I had taken some good footage for her song called "Journey" I'm excited to start editing it, and on Tuesday I will get some more footage with her, taking a "road trip" of sort, stopping at scenic places along the way, enjoying solitude and nature, her song acoustically in the background. This should be good. Soft and abstract, upbeat and independent. I like it.

Today we went into the Publix produce to take a leak! I mean, LEEK, not leak...we would never pee on produce... I'm going to turn that into a joke type t-shirt design.

Threadless t-shirts is having a contest, I'm in the process of creating some pun-ny shirt designs that look good but are funny as well. The money I win could really help with college stuff, I hope I win, my mother nags me about scholarships constantly. Sigh.

On a sucky-er note, I have a diagnosis...I have a simple cyst on my left kidney, and another one on my ovary. Yay.

More to come, I'm excited for the days leading up to my presentation, maybe I should change it to a different location? I want an artsy feeling to it...I'm sad that Sydney's presentation is going to be on the states Skills comp...bleh.

Organic

Let your eyes sink to the back of your head, lay down your weapons and breathe in the calm. Drown out the sound of the world and hear the silence that enshrouds you with a certain warmth. Innocence was lost, but growth and knowledge were found. Cope and be strong, then move to the next person, help them do that same. The chain will be long.

I have decided to try and relax, my health needs it, my friends need it. I've always been the backbone in the group, they notice when I bend. Luckily they are my sinew and muscle, they never let me snap.

I'm checking out a camera for the weekend, and I'll see what comes of it. Hopefully something will flourish, I'll find something beautiful to film, or maybe develop a funny idea, maybe film for a music video for Sydney? I'll call her after school today.

Stuck

Sink your feet into mud, walk through a bog and let it suck you down to your thighs. Try to move, try to think over the panic, the mire has you in its clutches. Tragedy does that to you, and you try to rise above it, try to see past the black tar steadily pulling at your clothes and look at the sunrise over the swamp. Its hot out, and buzzard sits perched on a mangrove.

I'm sure this is just a little pocket of turbulence, my writing has been stuck for a bit, but Doster (my mentor/tv teacher) wants a project to be done. What do I do? WHAT OH WHAT? My back is in a perpetual state of uncomfortableness and there is tragedy all around. What can I make, when all my writing is dark and disturbed? I try to keep things lighthearted, make it seem as if I haven't been turned into a faithless cynic. Maybe I can use film as a sort of release, make something dark, but add hope, fool myself into making a happy ending when I know happy endings are far and few.

Kidneys

Visceral. What a raw word. I love it, the feeling of it in my mouth, like a thin piece of raw meat, warm and tasting of iron. It rolls down my tongue and out of my mouth, a silk sheet sliding off of the bed.

Speaking of the word visceral, I turn to my inside. My kindeys seem suspicious, they are like little criminals waiting to be found out. Tomorrow's MRI scan should be telling of what they're up to. I've been having back pains all week, hopefully its nothing serious...

I've been happy with my recent success with my short film, but I want to do another one...The ideas I have are too big for the time in my life right now, so I must simplify... I want to do a music video, but my father keeps insisting I need to create another original piece, something that I can put on a reel...But I argue that a music video CAN be just that...