be content

John said there are two kinds of artists: those who collect, and those who make. And luckily, I do both.

That is to say, I have way too much stuff I want to bring home. I want to be able to decorate my painting cubicle with bits of inspiration for next year. I feel like I should be able to transplant myself well enough, and with a little bit of water, sunshine and love, my art practice will be able to survive coming across the ocean and being uncared for a bit over the summer.

I'm kind of tired. And I know we aren't done everything yet but it feels almost like it. I know I have papers to write, tests to study for, but all I want to do is eat gellato, design grace's grad invite, write my blog and write some letters.

and maybe take a nap.

I don't want to think about what I'm doing from the 1st to the 9th. I don't want to think about leaving people behind. I don't want to think about people I may never see again, things I will never be able to do again. It all came and went too fast. That's how it always goes, isn't it?

As I ate my jar of beans today, I found them quite bland and unappetizing. But I tired for a few moments to just concentrate on that mouth full of beans. to just be content with it, in that moment, how I was, where I was, the texture and taste and color of the beans in my mouth. I want to do that with more of my life. To actively experience and appreciate everything as it is. I can't change many things or people. But I can appreciate them for what/who they are. And so I'm not going to ask Anna to stop humming. I'm not going to tell Cat to stop her play-by-play while fridge cleaning. I'm going to keep on scrubbing the dishes, slip in my head phones, and be content.

the feeling of certainty
mixed with the fear of uncertainty
clings to my parched throat.

////

It's Stef's 21 birthday! yay! Stef, I hope you are having a wine and cheese party tonight.

So do you want to hear about Easter in Rome? Or the Vatican, to be more precise. 

It was fun. Waiting in line for hours and hours and hours. I think my feet have never been more tired. And the feeling that I should be in Florence doing homework instead of in Rome walking around and waiting and celebrating Mass with our Holy Father. Well, maybe not that last one. 

I really loved parts of that. We went to both the Good Friday service and the Easter Vigil, and both were long and beautiful. I especially loved the boys' and men's choirs. Such a hugable sound. That's how I describe something that is just so gorgeous you want to connect with it in a deeper way than listening and appreciating from afar. So yes, gorgeous music. Most of both services was in Latin. Easter Vigil had 6 or 7 different languages I think, but a large percentage of it I couldn't understand, even with the booklet with the Italian translation. 

Anyway, I wish I would have been "more in the moment." I think I was just so exhausted, and it was difficult to concentrate because of the language barrier. 

So that was Rome. So glad I went. Really. I had a really great time with my Catholic friends. I'm going to miss them. 

Oh-- an interesting thing: during Good Friday service, I heard a very clear voice say (twice), "delete your facebook." I know this Voice, I trust this Voice. It's easy to think about, but hard to do. I have SO MANY messages and photos on facebook, it's also how I keep up with people and groups. But I guess I'm going to do it. I don't know when. I think I want to at least save some messages first. It seems like such a big deal. I suppose that's because I have lived half of my past three years of my life on facebook. So killing the Devil is difficult. and even painful sometimes (most of the time?)

Well... I need to go. I'll write more later. I miss you all. 

A lot. 

boy these short poems are dramatic.

when the night falls
and dust settles to dust
then we will know
how we all must
do the same.



PS. I'm going to Rome tomorrow! Yay yay! Per Pasqua!

poem to my lover (the dawn)

The early morning

breathes on my neck, seduces me.

I cannot resist.

National Poetry Month!

In honor of National Poetry Month (which I just learned about) I'm going to try and write a poem a day. Here goes:



Only now do I notice my shadow cast by my computer screen.
The light is dimming, the warmth is cooling.
Today was perfect.
I mean, the weather today was perfect.

I think of the meatloaf we shared during a well deserved lunch break at your house senior year.

Spring we sat out on the lawn, I reading my History Text book, you reading the sky and my expressions.

It's your birthday in eight days, and I haven't written you a love note yet.