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this is the room one afternoon

when i was a kid i wanted to grow up to be an artist. i made my parents get me watercolors and palettes and pastels and nice paper; i dressed up as an artist for future career day during spirit week in 8th grade. i don’t even know what that means — i think i wore a beret and some jeans with holes in them. who knows.
shortly after that, though, i realized i’m not meant to be an artist: i frustrate too quickly, i’m not patient, i don’t trust myself, i can’t properly translate what i see or feel. i was heartbroken for a while and then i got over it, but the inability to create is still one of the major things i wish i could change about myself.
knitting was good for me to discover because it is impermanent yet it allows me to play with color and texture and shape as well as my limits. but lately what i want to do is write. not write great fiction or anything, just produce something i don’t hate.
everything i have read recommends writing daily, so i am going to try it. i am going to try to take notes when i think of interesting things — though i think for starters it’ll be seeing interesting things rather than thinking them up myself — and i am going to try to write about them in a way that i like.
what this means in practice is probably that i will post less frequently, though, because i will not want anyone to see it at first. so if i disappear that’s why. but maybe sometimes i’ll like things i write!
pfft.

***

seattleites, there is a very exciting show this weekend: my boyfriend bobby bare jr., with richmond fontaine from portland and chuckanut drive, 2/5 from here and 3/5 from bellingham. all of these bands rock seriously a lot and i’m really looking forward to the show. get tickets early as bbj shows usually sell out!

***

oh, the other good thing about writing is that it’s free. this is nice because i’m super broke. can only go to the show because of being on the guest list; tomorrow i get to go to the grocery store and am only allowed to buy dried beans, bulk rice, eggs, and whichever are the cheapest tortillas. at least i’ll be a semi-nutritioned (??) broke person.

(song: “the king of carrot flowers, part one,” neutral milk hotel)

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