Mood

Mad Girl's Love Song - S. Plath

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; 
I lift my lids and all is born again. 
(I think I made you up inside my head.) 

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, 
And arbitrary blackness gallops in: 
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. 

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed 
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. 
(I think I made you up inside my head.) 

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade: 
Exit seraphim and Satan's men: 
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. 

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed 
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. 
(I think I made you up inside my head.) 

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade: 
Exit seraphim and Satan's men: 
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. 

I fancied you'd return the way you said, 
But I grow old and I forget your name. 
(I think I made you up inside my head.) 

I should have loved a thunderbird instead; 
At least when spring comes they roar back again. 
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. 
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones.
'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs.
Setting fire to our insides for fun
Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong
The lovers that went wrong.

Treasures

Yesterday, Lexi and I went on a shopping excursion in downtown Geneva.  We rooted through resale shops, boutiques, and antique stores all afternoon.  It was such a blessing to escape from the chaotic and hateful environment at home and just laugh with my best friend. She loves me in spite of my messy problems.  She always speaks life and truth into my being. I need that positivism in my life right now. I need it more than anything.  

I am going to enjoy my last two months in the States and nobody is going to stop me.

Definitely wanted to purchase this beauty! 

This reminded me of my grandma's house

Jars of knick knacks and trinkets

A beautiful old organ we discovered in the antique shop

This is the fun Mexican cantina where we ate after our shopping adventure!

These are the days that must happen to you

breathe in chaos
breathe out peace

breathe in bitterness
breathe out blessings

breathe in despair
breathe out hope

breathe in indifference
breathe out love

breathe in heartache
breathe out strength

breathe in loneliness
breathe out healing

Sweet Summertime

Yesterday, Lexi and I went to Centennial Beach in Naperville.  We had a blast together! Every moment I spend with her, I'm reminded of all that we've been through together, and how constant she has been through all of my shit.  I couldn't have asked for a better best friend.  What would I do without this beautiful soul?  She is gorgeous inside and out.  I sincerely thank God for my lovely, caring, wise friend.

Here are some fun photos that were taken after we returned home from the beach...

Mood:

*Judge me*

This is SO. COOL.

I'm currently doing a fun little project for a creative writing class.  There is this site called 750 Words, which is basically a private online journal that prompts you to write at least 750 words every day.  I absolutely love this thing.  The coolest part? It logs all of your data in a section called "Metadata."  It shares things like "Most Commonly Used Words" or "Issues You Are Most Concerned About."

I obviously won't share any of my entries because the entire point is that it's a private journal (unlike a blog or other website).  But here are some images that reveal a lot about what I'm most preoccupied with when I write creatively.  So neat!

Out on the Edge

The past few hours have been a whirlwind of activity and a roller coaster of emotion.  I cannot even believe how fortunate I am to have such an incredible opportunity neatly placed at my doorstep; and yet, I am already having doubts and anxiety about next fall.  Where do I begin?  How do I express the level of absolute unworthiness that I possess for the task ahead?   Blessings are just blessings.  Grace is getting what I don’t deserve.  God provides and is faithful to even their most rebellious children.  But it’s so difficult to understand. 

~~~~~~~~~~

All my life, I’ve been told that I’ll never do anything with an English degree.

Them: You know that degree is useless without a teaching certificate, right?

Me: Well, I don’t think public education is for me…

Them: Oh, so you wanna be a starving artist, eh?

Me: *nervous laughter* Um, no, I actually really like food.

Them: So what are you gonna do with that degree?

Me: Use it to fan myself while I lay on the beaches of Mexico, sipping a margarita, I suppose. (??)

I’m not sure why, but I feel the need to prove myself.  To myself.  Does that even make sense?  People talk about dreams as if dreams are meant to stay dreams forever.  Dreams are part of identity.  Yet here I am, my dream about to become a reality, and suddenly I doubt my identity.  Do I possess the skill set that they require?  Do I really have any talent in this area?  What if I get there and I hate it?

I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over.  Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can’t see from the center. ~Kurt Vonnegut

I’m not doing this for my parents.  God knows they would rather I stay home, tucked neatly away in some quaint Chicago suburb for the rest of my life, content with a mediocre 9-5 job, a bland Christian husband (who will materialize out of thin air), and a decidedly middle-class life.  It may sound like I’m bashing that life.  I’m not.  That’s how I grew up.  That’s the life I’ve always known.  The predictable, average, run-of-the-mill, ever-unremarkable life with which many people are content. 

And someday I will be content with that.  But not today.  Not now.  Not at this age, this time, this me. This Kristin is not going to live in the center.  How can I?  I crave the unseen life.  I want to see things from the edge. 

There is so much of this world that I haven’t experienced.  I hate to sound like a naive, restless young person.  And maybe that is all that I am.  Maybe I will leave next fall and come back a completely changed person in the summer.  Maybe I will go and come back and feel that it was a waste.  I don't know.  But part of the thrill lies in the mystery.  I don't know what I'm meant to do in this life.  God has not yet revealed that to me.  But it's getting clearer and clearer every day.  

Here's what I know: God has picked this path for me travel.  And so I will travel with a willing and thankful heart, a joyful song in my head, and an open mind. 

Creature

"I wasn't actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity." 

Finals Music Pick and Update

Freaking George.  He gets me.  This is one of my favorites from his Montana album.  It's super short, but you really have to listen to it in the context of the entire album to understand his musical intent. 


After seeing George Winston live in concert last December, I have developed a new appreciation for the heartfelt and amazingly homey quality of his music.  He describes himself as a "folk pianist," and, man, I really dig that. Besides the fact that he is musically gifted, he is a very compassionate human; nearly all of his concerts are benefits concerts.  Totally cool.  And he was about as chill as you can get in concert.  He would literally play a simple harmony and just embellished it for, like, almost fifteen minutes. It was so obvious to me that he just gets lost in his music, maybe even to a fault.  But I loved watching him, even if his improvisations got to be a little long. Wish I had that passion and stamina.


After this week is over, I will be SO very happy.  I feel like I have been stretched to the limit this term. Even though my classes aren't that difficult, I am plugging away at my thesis every week - something I definitely enjoy, don't get me wrong! - yet I am struggling to find motivation as spring break approaches. 


Today, I played in my final piano honors recital at NCC.  I can't believe how well it went, considering my awful performance anxiety.  My heart was heavy for many reasons, but I felt a sudden burst of inspiration and self-confidence right before I went up to perform.  I kept thinking This is it.  This is your last time performing in this special recital, with these special people.  Make it count.  

When I went up to the piano, my hands weren't shaking like they normally do!  I pretended that I was alone in the hall, playing for myself and no one else.  It was a great mind trick, and I honestly don't know why I haven't used it before. I am so thankful that it went well and that I can continue to honor God through music. 

22

22 is an odd number.

I am a newborn child,

Shiny and wet –

Looking at the world with bright, glowing eyes.

Just come from the womb,

Still warm from my mother’s arms.

Wholly, disastrously fascinated

By everything on which I feast my fresh, dewy eyes.

I see fire.

I touch it.

What is that bleak, shadowy being that keeps following me? 

How does it mimic exactly what I do?

The future is a white, ethereal thing

Without eyes.

It perches on the edge of the world and

Twists its feeble hands.

It sings a faint, lonely melody

That few can hear.

But I hear it.

I think it’s singing my name, but maybe, wait –

I’m wrong.

22 is a weird number.

And I’m crushed under the weight of it.