we overlap
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over lap lap lap
I've been painting here and there. Stacy got me this amazing calender for Christmas. I don't have it beside me so I won't tell you the artist, but it's all watercolors. Trees and sunsets in purple and red bleeding into one another. It's all got an oriental art feel to it, and of course, I love it even more for that. It inspired me to pull my watercolors out of the bottom drawer and attempt a few designs. I didn't do anything particularly impressive, but it was a nice reminder of how much I used to love to sit in the basement at my mother's drawing table and paint sunset after sunset, some stamped with the Chicago skyline, and all split horizontally down the middle by Lake Michigan.
Now that I'm done with all my finals, I feel strange with nothing to do. I feel panicked. Like I've left the water on the stove, or forgotten to unplug my curling iron. I guess it's not easy moving from stress mode into relaxation. My blood pressure hasn't adjusted yet. Maybe some yoga. There's nothing left to do but ponder the future, and that's scary. I have so much to plan and arrange. I guess the end of the semester signifies that it's really happening. I'm really leaving, and sooner than later. What?
The tree is still unlit. The dog is on the carpet, lying on her side with her legs stretched out in front of her. She looks up at me from time to time and winks. And now it's evening and it's dark out and the night has flown by.
My history professor corresponded with me through email today. He sent me an article out of the New York Times that talked about how the Italians are among the most unhappy people in the world, and how it is politically linked. The writer said if things don't change, Italy could become the Florida of Europe. I chuckled.
"The generational problem is the Italian problem," said Mario Adinolfi, 36, a blogger and an aspiring lawmaker. "In every country young people hope. Here in Italy there is no hope anymore. Your mom keeps you home nice and softly, and you stay there and you don't fight. And if you don't fight, it is impossible to take power from anybody."
I am staying at home this evening for the first time in about a week. That makes probably five or six times in two months. I don't like sleeping alone. Correction: I don't like sleeping without Spencer. I miss being close to him. I mean that in more than one sense. Physicality is comforting, but the internal connection...God I miss that. It's been lingering in and out, with both of us awaiting our impending doom come February. Both of us trying to read one another like books we've read before but can't quite remember how they end. But I am staying here...right here, waiting. I'm just so exhausted. It's hard to give without knowing if you'll ever really get as much back. It's hard to pour yourself neatly into a glass for someone and not know if you'll ever be completely refilled. When will you decide? (You and you both). I'd like to wait forever. But. It's hard to have faith.
Herbalism.
Reading. The library.
Italian everything.
Physical activity.
Work.
Knitting.
Meditating.
Coffee shops where I love the smell but really, all I go for is the tea.
Spending time with people I love.
There's more that I'd like to do with the next month and a half, but I don't remember what it all is. I'd like to find my inner being and take shelter in her. I
Freedom is had when all hope subsides.
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