Summratime!

Nothing ever gets accomplished in these months. Everything is much slower. Most of the year, I look forward to it cause summer is supposed to be magical or something. And then when I'm sitting in the middle of it I realize it was way better before. The weather is nice though. (I will take this back in mid-July)

Summer To Do:

-Stop pretending your a writer and actually write something

-Work towards having an essay published. On paper. (This might be here for a while)

-Do a dance with your friends that aren't dancers

-Hold a benefit for all your artsy friends who do artsy things at their artsy schools.

-Drink a lot of booze, do a lot of drugs (Hi Mom! Hi Dad! They're cool with it)

-Hang out with your new friend, Annie

-Open all mail from your bank and stop forgetting your pin number

-Get 6-Pack abs (This may be here for a while)

-Get up and go to dance class so you're not an epic fail in the fall

-Start saying, "My psychic says..."

Happy Battle at Bunker Hill Day (yesterday)!

Recent Splurge: UV filter

(Above Photographs by Rivkah)

Foot-us

Looking Up

Pas

Rascal

No, No, not there

I am eating a piece of cake made entirely out of soy. And I hate it. But I'm eating it.

This book blessed my life mere months ago and I thought it was the epic enlightenment of the month of April. Little did I know it's epic-ness would remain for future months. 

I don't mean to only talk about books it's just that, well, you see, all my favorite authors can say things about me better than I could say things about me. 

Back last semester, my Dance Making teacher, the beautiful and silly Ms. Lisa Gonzalez asked us to answer the question: If you could explain your essence to yourself what would you tell yourself? 

My answer: Ask somebody else. (But don't think I didn't think about the Friends episode when Joey steals the essence of the chair.)

Lisa has this amazing ability to understand everything because she is so open to embracing not-understanding.

Off to my new job in the land of disorganization. I think I'll do well with it given I tend to wander.

Once you start a blog you start thinking about how you could turn events in your life into a blog entry title.

Mady was nagging me because I couldn't go to hip hop with her because I have to finish reading this book

and then I stumbled on this excerpt:

"The difference between trying to decide what I thought and having something actually happen to me while I was looking was my first clue about images..."

"...Stopping to think about it stopped the experience. It seems that thinking and experiencing are not the same thing."

Have I made my point yet?

In other news: I Remember by Joe Brainard

I remember when Shaggy was everything.

A Brief Essay on Dance Art

I don't think I like to make dances about the emotional. I hate justifying a movement so that it relates to something other than the movement around it. I think that's why I want to defy the "What does it mean?" question. It could mean a lot, guys. But what exactly does it mean? I don't know.

I hate the wading pool of the literal. I prefer to doggy-paddle in the deep end. I like things I can't find answers to. Not because "I want someone to give me something to think about." I have enough of that. I want someone to give me something to experience. When I watch dance I never walk away from it wondering what it meant. I mean sure, college dance always leaves a strained expression on your face but I'm starting to believe that's what it's supposed to do. When I try to answer the "What do you think it meant?" question, I usually never come up with anything solid or original. For me, it isn't about what it all meant. It's about what it did to me while I was watching it.

Left of The Middle (Child)/To The Middle Child's Left

I've been thinking about starting one of these guys. Joining the blogosphere or making a Blog-a-log as people-that-Rivkah-knows like to call them.

I welcome myself.

At the beginning of Dave Egger's early life memoir A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius he writes "This was uncalled for." Precisely, Dave. Precisely.