On this night of all hallows' eve, the earth transforms. The dead are once again alive.
It is about this time of year, the beginning of September, that my anticipation for Halloween begins. This holiday has always been my favorite. Halloween is the climax of the fall season. The golden, red, and brown leaves litter the earth, leaving the trees bare and life-less. The breeze is cool, and I need a jacket when I go out. the sky seems not so bright like it did during the summer. Life is changing.
On the first of the wonderful month of October, I am allowed to put up our Halloween decorations, well, the pumpkins at least. I always have a mind to put the decorations up when the weather becomes cooler in September, but my mom just calls me ridiculous.
We have some of the best decorations. First of all, they are stored in this antique, big, black trunk in our basement. My mom has had the trunk for a very long time. It has an incredibly distinct smell that always makes me happy inside because the smell means - IT'S HALLOWEEN! It's a stale smell, like most old artifacts, only there is a tinge of sweet also. The black trunk is split into layers, separated a removable shelf. Place mats, witch cloaks, and orange light bulbs are on the removable shelf. Beneath are the sacred ceramic pumpkins. My mom has been collecting ceramic pumpkins since before I was born. We have one pumpkin with a black top hat that is over 50 years old. DO NOT DROP THIS - always the warning when handling the pumpkin. It is my duty to arrange the ceramic pumpkins with the bale of straw on our front porch. Well, it's more like I don't let anyone else do it because I like it so much.
My family has other Halloween traditions besides the ceramic pumpkins. Every year we carve our own jack-o-lanterns. With our kitchen floor covered in newspapers, we scoop the guts our and saw faces into the pumpkins. Halloween is also my sister's birthday. We eat cake and celebrate before going out for the night.
Ah, Halloween is just so wonderful. So many of these memories and images come to mind, and I just smile with content.
entry: 3 september 2009
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Live in the Shadow of a Dozen Roses
Make a list of places where writing hides for you. Be specific.
- ginger pumpkin scented candles
- a good hug (you know, one of those you receive from a best friend you haven't seen in two years...coughAARONcough)
- inside jokes about bananas (a reoccurring motif in the lives of my sister and me)
- the moon and the stars
- music. all different types. right now I'm pretty sure it's The Beatles.
- my dreams. this is an important one. I keep a dream journal if that tells you anything.
- the smell of incense. fizzy pop incense. from sunshine day dream imports. the hippie store. where I bought my purse/bag. it's wonderful there.
- the vibrant color of green plants beneath flowing water. the picture I took at Trout Lodge comes to mind.
- the abstract, splatter-technique paintings of Jackson Pollock.
- the smell of autumn. of halloween. brisk, dry air. the trunk of decorations in our basement. carving pumpkins into jack-o-lanterns. all of these smells.
- the shape, color, texture of blown glass. actually seeing being crafted. the awe of a child in Hannibal.
- mysterious fairy rings, made of mushrooms and darkened grass, appearing in my front yard.
- Henry David Thoreau. I read Walden last summer and was delighted by the experience. I came across quite a few phrases that struck me. I wrote them down. One is, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation."
- In the place of beige ceramic tiles, pomegranate mango soap suds, and skin hydration. the shower.
entry: 31 august 2009
- ginger pumpkin scented candles
- a good hug (you know, one of those you receive from a best friend you haven't seen in two years...coughAARONcough)
- inside jokes about bananas (a reoccurring motif in the lives of my sister and me)
- the moon and the stars
- music. all different types. right now I'm pretty sure it's The Beatles.
- my dreams. this is an important one. I keep a dream journal if that tells you anything.
- the smell of incense. fizzy pop incense. from sunshine day dream imports. the hippie store. where I bought my purse/bag. it's wonderful there.
- the vibrant color of green plants beneath flowing water. the picture I took at Trout Lodge comes to mind.
- the abstract, splatter-technique paintings of Jackson Pollock.
- the smell of autumn. of halloween. brisk, dry air. the trunk of decorations in our basement. carving pumpkins into jack-o-lanterns. all of these smells.
- the shape, color, texture of blown glass. actually seeing being crafted. the awe of a child in Hannibal.
- mysterious fairy rings, made of mushrooms and darkened grass, appearing in my front yard.
- Henry David Thoreau. I read Walden last summer and was delighted by the experience. I came across quite a few phrases that struck me. I wrote them down. One is, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation."
- In the place of beige ceramic tiles, pomegranate mango soap suds, and skin hydration. the shower.
entry: 31 august 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
the sense of sound.
Begin: 8:43 pm.
My iTunes is playing a Genius playlist of alternative and punk music. "Means + Ways" by Snow Patrol just finished playing. Now "Your New Twin Sized Bed" by Death Cab For Cutie begins.
My laptop hums. It's the fan. Sometimes it's louder, but now it is soft.
Parent voice is on the phone downstairs. I can't clearly hear anything being said. The voice sounds like one of those annoying bumble bees that buzzes past your ear during a picnic in the summer.
The dog growled. He's downstairs also. He was probably playing.
"Sam's Town" by The Killers just began on my iTunes.
My computer makes another sound. It's the sound of the hard drive relaying information back and forth. The sound is fairly constant, but when it stops, I notice.
My desk chair squeaks every time I lead back too far. Right now the sound is not that alarming, but when I'm up late finishing my homework and the house is quiet, the squeak seems ten times louder.
"You're All I Have" by Snow Patrol is playing.
My windows are open. My sister just got dropped off. "See you tomorrow!" The car door slams shut. Metal against metal racket of the garage door opening. The garage down goes back down, the door to the house swings shut. My sister's footsteps are coming down the hall, most likely to my room.
"Today" by Smashing Pumpkins.
My windows are open. There are SO many bugs. One makes a clicking sound: click...click...click click click click click. Another sound goes on and on. A string of low chirping. The last distinct sound is definitely that of a cricket. The noise is higher-pitched than the rest and in an on and off constant pattern.
The air conditioning is on now. the cool air blows through the two vents in my room.
End: 9:15 pm.
entry: 16 september 2009
My iTunes is playing a Genius playlist of alternative and punk music. "Means + Ways" by Snow Patrol just finished playing. Now "Your New Twin Sized Bed" by Death Cab For Cutie begins.
My laptop hums. It's the fan. Sometimes it's louder, but now it is soft.
Parent voice is on the phone downstairs. I can't clearly hear anything being said. The voice sounds like one of those annoying bumble bees that buzzes past your ear during a picnic in the summer.
The dog growled. He's downstairs also. He was probably playing.
"Sam's Town" by The Killers just began on my iTunes.
My computer makes another sound. It's the sound of the hard drive relaying information back and forth. The sound is fairly constant, but when it stops, I notice.
My desk chair squeaks every time I lead back too far. Right now the sound is not that alarming, but when I'm up late finishing my homework and the house is quiet, the squeak seems ten times louder.
"You're All I Have" by Snow Patrol is playing.
My windows are open. My sister just got dropped off. "See you tomorrow!" The car door slams shut. Metal against metal racket of the garage door opening. The garage down goes back down, the door to the house swings shut. My sister's footsteps are coming down the hall, most likely to my room.
"Today" by Smashing Pumpkins.
My windows are open. There are SO many bugs. One makes a clicking sound: click...click...click click click click click. Another sound goes on and on. A string of low chirping. The last distinct sound is definitely that of a cricket. The noise is higher-pitched than the rest and in an on and off constant pattern.
The air conditioning is on now. the cool air blows through the two vents in my room.
End: 9:15 pm.
entry: 16 september 2009
the SILENCE says it all.
The Silence says it all. Respect. Patience. Understanding. Hate. Defiance. Ignorance.
Silence is powerful in a word that always speaks and always has an opinion. To refrain from speaking shows self-control.
Silence is awkward. Silence is bold.
Silence is golden - What does that even mean? What a cliche. Pathetic people use cliches.
Silence is Terrifying. Yelling for help and only silence in responce is the worst feeling in the worod. The Silence means that you are along. There is no one to save you.
Silence is suspenceful. Walking down a dark hallway at night when everyone else is asleep - something is going to jump out of the darkness and harm you. I live for the suspence in horror films. My heart beating fast, I don't know what's coming. Silence heightens the moent. You can't heare what's coming.
BAM! Breaking the Silence is cause for a heart attack.
Breaking the Silence usually means restoring comfort. From an awkward moment. From a cry for help.
When a baby falls asleep. The Silence is peaceful. The mother can rest now.
In Silence of the modern world and humnity, the sounds of nature can be heard clearly.
You can get lost in the Silence.
Overwhelming feeling comes to your ears when they have to really listen if any sound is there. A certain pressure pushes on the ears. It feels different.
Close your eyes, you can heart so much more. Open your eyes. Your world is still there.
A smile in Silence is still a smile. There is no need for sound to convey a sign of content.
Silence is sleep.
entry: 11 September 2009.
Silence is powerful in a word that always speaks and always has an opinion. To refrain from speaking shows self-control.
Silence is awkward. Silence is bold.
Silence is golden - What does that even mean? What a cliche. Pathetic people use cliches.
Silence is Terrifying. Yelling for help and only silence in responce is the worst feeling in the worod. The Silence means that you are along. There is no one to save you.
Silence is suspenceful. Walking down a dark hallway at night when everyone else is asleep - something is going to jump out of the darkness and harm you. I live for the suspence in horror films. My heart beating fast, I don't know what's coming. Silence heightens the moent. You can't heare what's coming.
BAM! Breaking the Silence is cause for a heart attack.
Breaking the Silence usually means restoring comfort. From an awkward moment. From a cry for help.
When a baby falls asleep. The Silence is peaceful. The mother can rest now.
In Silence of the modern world and humnity, the sounds of nature can be heard clearly.
You can get lost in the Silence.
Overwhelming feeling comes to your ears when they have to really listen if any sound is there. A certain pressure pushes on the ears. It feels different.
Close your eyes, you can heart so much more. Open your eyes. Your world is still there.
A smile in Silence is still a smile. There is no need for sound to convey a sign of content.
Silence is sleep.
entry: 11 September 2009.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Commentary
ink blots and peppered pottery.
the way I wish I was is gone.
chalk and bones chalk and bones
dead as a doornail on tuesday.
skeletal fractures, limp limbs.
sing songs, Aida's soundtrack
a verse.
scrape clump clump, scrape clump clump
my dead sister moves down the hall
the fat kid with the glasses.
yeah, he's got a stutter
and he likes to sing.
two turtle doves
and a piece of pumpernickel bread.
toasted and delicious.
crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, dust.
fallen leaves left discarded
macaroni and marmalade for supper
children would rather eat beets.
iron and oil
her majesty, the royal
hula hoops and paper mache
I fancy this party isn't so bad
my cup is full of kool aid.
and kool aid is for the cool kids.
the ceiling fan is silent
the tree branches are not
wind moves forever and always.
Elton John is the mood
Lion King is the tune now
Aida is over.
crystal balls and beauty
no, no take that back
those things aren't real
glitter, glue, and Mozart.
colorful fantasies in D minor
I wish I were an elephant
I wish I were a snail
Nevermind, my time for wishing has passed.
I'm not a child anymore.
There is no more time for nonsense.
entry: 10 september 2009.
the way I wish I was is gone.
chalk and bones chalk and bones
dead as a doornail on tuesday.
skeletal fractures, limp limbs.
sing songs, Aida's soundtrack
a verse.
scrape clump clump, scrape clump clump
my dead sister moves down the hall
the fat kid with the glasses.
yeah, he's got a stutter
and he likes to sing.
two turtle doves
and a piece of pumpernickel bread.
toasted and delicious.
crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, dust.
fallen leaves left discarded
macaroni and marmalade for supper
children would rather eat beets.
iron and oil
her majesty, the royal
hula hoops and paper mache
I fancy this party isn't so bad
my cup is full of kool aid.
and kool aid is for the cool kids.
the ceiling fan is silent
the tree branches are not
wind moves forever and always.
Elton John is the mood
Lion King is the tune now
Aida is over.
crystal balls and beauty
no, no take that back
those things aren't real
glitter, glue, and Mozart.
colorful fantasies in D minor
I wish I were an elephant
I wish I were a snail
Nevermind, my time for wishing has passed.
I'm not a child anymore.
There is no more time for nonsense.
entry: 10 september 2009.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
p.s.
i'm taking creative writing this semester. part of the class is having a journal and writing in it every night. i've accumulated quite a few interesting entries. i think i'm eventually going to type my whole journal on here. that should be fun.
i know bo. fo sho.
B.O. LINGERS AND IT MAKES YOU THINK. I MET BO BURNHAM ON SATURDAY!!
i mean, not to gloat or anything...
here's the story. i've been a fan of his for a little over a year now. i bought his cd from target the weekend it came out. i can sing "new math" by heart, and i've spent countless hours watching his videos, videos of him, videos about him, etc on youtube. not to mention all the other general stalking i've done all over the internet.
i'm so freaking proud of this kid. he's nineteen years old. and he has guts [that sounds like something cliche a critic would say]. well then scratch the "he has guts" part.
here is why i love bo burnham: he is so real. seeing his show and watching his videos, he is the same. that is a good thing. only the show was much better because i was there in the room with him :D
the show was at the Pageant, which i'd never been to before. the inside is really small and intimate. it was cool. i went with my best friend ashley. she was somewhat new to bo but still a big fan. after the show, we stood in line to meet him. while waiting, i noticed that no one was giving him hugs. what the heck people?! why wouldn't you want to hug bo burnham?! i DEFINITELY hugged him when it was my turn to say hi. yeah, did you hear me? I HUGGED BO BURNHAM. it was fantastic.
a little aside from bo...
i've had a youtube account for eight months but haven't really done anything with it. i recently uploaded my two videos from waiting in line to meet bo burnham. i really wanted to upload some more, so i found one of my sister being goofy and another one from a night at trout lodge two summers ago. uploading videos is satisfying something inside of me that i didn't know existed. now i have the urge to make more videos. i want to see the number of views. i want comments. it's addictive. BO, I UNDERSTAND YOU.
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