*cough*

Heh. It's been a wild ride the past year, since I've posted.
But I am completely and utterly certain it's how it should be now, for the most part!
Reading the posts on washington, all I can do is laugh, especially considering the fact I want to move back to phoenix, Hahaha. Who would've thought?!

But I miss it. I miss the late nights, the smell of the desert, hell. Even out here when I go outside in the sun, I expect the hottest sun rays, and I get these measley little sun rays that shouldn't even really be considered sun rays.
Summer's been short and not very warm at all. I think we've had maybe 10 over 80 degrees days...

On another note. I wish I could concentrate on my writing, or drawing. But between work and school it's like trying to, I can't even think of a good analogy. Hahah. Some days I end up pulling 16 hour days with only 10 minutes between the two that's not in travel time. I need like a week off of all of it, seriously. And I don't get a week off til January. Which is pointless, because if it weren't for the 2 weeks off I could finish school at the beginning of january, not the end :c

All I want to do is write. Write about Hazlann and Canari. And how different their similar worlds subside.

Paint.

As of late, I've been painting.
It happened rather spontaneously, which I'm fine with.
It's helped me broaden what I can do for the portfolio
I plan to submit to SAIC.

Oh god, SAIC. how beautiful you are.
I can't tell you how badly I want to go to you.
And spend the rest of my life on art.

currency.

I am at a loss for words for my life.
Everything is so beautiful.
My life seems to be meshing together perfectly.
I've found the perfect balance between my Celtic
and Norse callings. I've found the perfect lady
who puts up with my constant douchebaggery.
somedays my art lacks and my writing flusters.
somedays the wind blows encouraging gusts and
somedays the heat makes it almost too much.
somedays when the moon hangs low, I feel content
somedays, practically everyday I see something
resembling Washington; be it a washingtonstate plate,
a street name, a bracelet at Saver's.

/I should be reading right now, my "mysticism" books
as Soccerboy Kellan would say. Well to you, sir, I say
this [vuvuzela horn]

I don't know if I've ever felt more content and alive in a long time (:

explosions.

So tonight, I decided to listen to Explosions in the Sky.
Now, I've listened to them countless times, I've also seen them live, thanks to Shane (: and I love them ohsomuch. But right now, it brings nostalgia.

Nostalgia of trudging through the drenching rain to Chad's house from P's. Nostalgia of playing video games loudly over the sound of rain. Nostalgia of just sitting in P's house, eating numnums. Nostalgia of walking through those rainy streets that I know like the back of my hand.

September, you cannot come soon enough.
I've grown out of my skin and now. Now I'm crawling back in.

I had a birthday.

You know, honestly, I hate having birthdays. I really do, it's pointless and makes me feel incredibly selfish, and not to sound cocky, but I'm not very selfish. But, honestly, this year was really awesome.
The day before, a package of my plugs from BAF came, then a package from Joe came with my old placebo shirt, a Tiger Eye pendant, a hunk of Sandstone, The Encyclopedia of Greek, Celtic and Norse Mythology, The Faery Teachings, The Guises of the Morrigan and Mabignon. And on my birthday, we took a mini trip to Flag <3.

Needless to say, I sure as hell have reading to do. Oh, I also picked up Magic of the Celtic Underworld for 9 dollahs and the Encylopedia of Celtic Wisdom for 8. So much reading B3

I picked up one of Schoolyard Heroes CDs from Bookman's, which in all reality was surprising to me. I forgot how amazing Ryann is. If you like female fronted vocals, especially anything like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Pylon. :D

Thiefs.

I have just finished this. In about 5 hours, four consecutively.

I cannot even begin to describe how phenomenal this novel is. She writes from a psychiatrist's perspective about his patient who is a painter and obsessed with a woman, from the 1800's. The psychiatrist goes to find out everything about this woman, his patient and both of their lives. It's like a historical thriller mystery.

She is a brilliantly talented writer. I really, have no words. I don't even feel like I was worthy enough to read this. The Historian blew me away, but this book did way more.
Now, all I want to do is write, for hours, for miles.
It also makes me want to paint and go to museums, and school.

Again, again.

after posting some shit on Faceshit about writing, I'm finally getting around to writing. Everything plays out in my head right as I'm about to fall asleep; then poof.
/gone.


But, I started writing last night, and I'm enjoying it for the most part. It's rough through and through, but this shit's been in my head for years, it needs to get the fuck out. I don't remember when the last time I legit just sat down and wrote, foreverago, I'msure.

But yeah, that's where I'll be.
With hand cramps :D