Slowly making it back to civilization...

Got back from the cruise late last night, returning to yet another area with no cell service or people I know (minus the fam of course). The cruise was fun, met up with some guys my age the first night and went out drinking with them every night. They were sweet guys that took me in and didnt try anything, so I was pleased.

There was a 17 year old kid that had the guts to talk to me on formal night. He was perfectly gawky and awkward, and wearing a holiday tie, which he practically tripped over when I said I was a junior...in college. He couldnt have been more adorable, or more obvious. That being said, on the last night I invited him out with us, and his response? "why?" I was a tad taken aback, I figured he would either shy away or be happy to come along, without much refusal either way, but he quickly continued, "why did you ask me to come out with you? I dont have a chance with you...right?" How adorably bold, and alas, no, he did not. However, I hope that he one day finds a Heather his own age that will be quite enamored with him. He came by my room right before we all left and told me that I was the sole reason he had fun on the cruise, which just made me feel like the jock guy in 16 candles. Glad I made someone's day though.

I have been reading Kundera's Life is Elsewhere, which if you know me, is kinda out of character considering I dont really read much at all, Im far too interested in my own life and myself to devote hours to fictional fables about characters I will probably love, and then hate that I will never meet. Anyway, its a very interesting book, and reminds me of a constant mind game I play with myself. I am happiest not when Im doing something fun, but when Im doing something, and have something else to look forward to. It goes back to that idea that "life" is not what's happening right now, but what has already happened, or what will. However, this perpetual jump from past to future can only be done in the present, which leaves us...where? Isnt this reflection on the past, and predictions of the future also part of life? When blogging, or journaling, or recounting a story, few people consider what they're doing "living". but why not?

"Do you think the past, because it has already occurred, is finished and unchangeable? Oh, no, it is clothed in mutable taffeta, and whenever we look back at it we see it in another color" page 140, Life is Elsewhere

From this, I would say that reflection itself is an entirely new experience, and one that I value highly. (obviously)

On another note, Im looking forward to ILM, although Im afraid to run into drama. It seems that letting go of the past, and ceasing this ever-evolving reflection can be very difficult. The one vague thing I will say about all this is that everyone tries to be the best person they can at any given time, and when they can be better, they will. Its usually messy, and always hard to understand from other perspectives, but I hope everyone can be compassionate towards the fact that everyone else was, and is, trying their best.
PS: I am SO excited to see Jenna again, I really need her in my life :)

well, its time for breakfast (spoken like a true college student at 12:11pm)

Bed time Story by Andrew Breeland

Purple Forest

There was a purple forest, and the trees were gray, or atleast the trunks. The grass was blue. There were little bugs in the grass that were orange with red polka dots. They looked like fire. They didnt know each other's names, so they could just buzz at each other, it was their only way of communicating. Eventually, it became a constant buzzing, and this came to be known as silence. And silence was beautiful .

Buren, 1970. Untitled.
This artist explored the idea of how art work is made for a gallery. If you saw this striped "canvas" in a gallery, you would view it as something completely different than you do here, on the streets of NYC.
This, like many other pieces in post modernism, forces the viewer to figure the piece out themselves. If you think its not art, as many people will choose to blow this off as some degnerate form of 'non -art' whatever that is, than maybe you just havent thought about it enough. Or maybe your concept of art is limited to aesthetic, or canvas, or as Buren is challenging, the gallery space.

Chilly morning with ivy on the windows

High lights in Asheville:
Watching Napoleon Dynamite high wasnt any less awkward.
I met a cat so fat it felt like I was cuddling with a furry man.
I have plenty of time to over think my life and others' lives, and I dont want to. Just wanna live it.
Excellent conversation and an electrically warm bed, I love Alex :)
Planning for this summer's possible art adventure, losing stamina...
Glittery sidewalks, sparkle for me in the street lights