A pattern I have been paying particular attention to since I started this blog was the concept of mixing different forms of art with each other or something else altogether. I see this pattern of doing things–mixing– popping up more and more. I think, though, that it’s always been there, and for some reason my attention can’t help but attach itself to mixed things. I found this piece that I wrote about my frustration with my daily thoughts I constantly had in college. At the time, I was literally venting to the page to suck it all out of my head and free myself of my very own mind prison. Now when I read it, I see the simple honesty of life and feel a sort of affectionate feeling towards it because it put my hell into words that I could actually see. Something about that validated me. It opened me up to self-acceptance and peace.
“I have to wash the dishes before I leave. I imagine the way my kitchen is when it’s clean: the 1940s cabinetry and hardware, as well as the two foot by two foot counterspace with dish ridges, are sparkling clean. I feel nothing on the floor when I walk, there is no clutter. I look around and there are clean dishes on the 2 X 2 counterspace and dirty dishes in the basin of the sink. I lift up my feet and they are black and are sprinkled with stray crumbs. My kitchen table/desk is a landscape of papers, stacks of Post-its, two oranges and lemon pepper, “Irresistible Apple” lotion, a camera, bright pink Kalanchoe, potted Spearmint, purple and yellow flowers my boyfriend brought me on my birthday, a desk organizer that is spilling forth bills, receipts, recipes, important papers, a dollar bill, a business card and a band-aid. A sharp, warm anger soaks my sternum and I feel frustrated and hopeless. Franticly, I try and put everything in it’s place. I put the dishes away and sweep the floor. I can Swiffer when I get home. I have to wipe the counters. That chair in front of the window by the microwave bothers me. There is no room for it at the table. I can’t wait to move out of here. I am going to miss it here.
I need to drink water. I will also make green tea. I already had coffee. No more coffee. I cut back to one cup a day. I don’t even care, or need it now. Thank god I no longer need to buy cigarettes.
Wake up. Sit at computer and drink my one cup of coffee. Make breakfast: oatmeal, toast and peanut butter or scrambled eggs. Eat the fruit first to obtain their full benefits. Go to the gym. Do cardio for 20-60 minutes depending on the day and my to-do list. Maybe lift weights. Rush home, take a shower. Find some clothes to wear. They are stuffed in my tiny closet, but mostly tangled up in each other in a plastic laundry basket on top of some sheets. That really bugs me, every time. I will organize it when I get home from class. I am going to be late. I organized it on my birthday, because it’s something I’ve been wanting to do. Now it’s tangled in itself again.”