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Originally uploaded by Rachel Ariel.

Reading: Housekeeping by Marilynn Robinson
Listening: Neutral Milk Hotel Two Headed Boy

Right now I am at work and I just want to go home. I was just looking at an old acquaintances pictures from when she made Aliyah (moved to Israel) and, in combination with a discussion earlier today I am feeling nostalgic and homesick. Homesick for a place that isn't home? It's weird, to feel ninety percent perfectly happy in one place, but the pull of that ten percent, sometimes it just eats me up inside, quietly, and when I don't really notice it. When I'm there I miss here, and when I'm here I miss there, and there's really no two ways about it, my body can only be in one place at a time, and there is a world of adventure waiting for me.

curlyqman

curlyqman
Originally uploaded by Rachel Ariel.

Currently Listening To: Brian Eno "Golden Hours"
Currently Reading: Handwritten: Expressive Lettering in the Digital Age

I'm researching again, and it feels really good. Something shifted last week. I was suddenly out of a rut I'd gotten stuck in. I'm surrounded by ideas, and instead of feeling jealous that other people are so creative and I am stuck, I look at them and say "what can I learn from this?" I want to hang paper cranes from the ceiling, I want to send tiny thoughts and ideas into the world that will make people smile, that will make them want to make other people smile. I want to be a phenomenologist, I want to buy the world a Coke (well, not really, but its a similar kind of sentiment).

I had a dream last night that A. was in Jacksonville with E. and for some reason this meant that I couldn't see him anymore. Then I had a dream that I accidentally used the papertowel I had been using to clean up spilled wood oil to wipe down my computer screen. That was a weird dream. Especially since I don't have wood oil. But it is something I would do.

A Very Merry Unbirthday

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Originally uploaded by Rachel Ariel.

So if a birthday is about receiving presents and kudos from friends who are glad you were born, it would stand to reason that on an Unbirthday one should send presents and kudos to friends who are glad you are alive (or possibly you should send poop in a flaming bag, and criticisms to people who wish you had never been born, but we'll assume that's not the real one).
I have decided to celebrate my Unbirthday this year, and as my real birthday is August 30, I don't have a half birthday (it would be February 30, which doesn't exist even in leap years). So though I have 364 days from which to chose from this year, this year the official celebration shall commence on February 30th, or the actual in existence equivalent day.

If you would like an Unbirthday Present from me please e mail me your address. Even if you think I already have it. Cause I lose things. A lot.

rachelariel.brandt@gmail.com

Faretheewell

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DSC01737.JPG
Originally uploaded by Rachel Ariel.

A pink woman with a chainsaw? I think so. I do adore the graffitti art. Perhaps because I'm not quite hardcore enough to actually make my art on the sides of buildings, but rather between the covers of a book which can be conveniently closed and hidden away in a back pocket or a dark corner. I still have trouble believing that I am capable of creating things that other people want to engage in (stories people want to read, pictures people want to look at). Graffitti art screams "You WILL look at me. You have NO CHOICE" and I adore that.

I had an enjoyable, but somewhat tiring visit to New York. I feel like I am still decompressing from it, like the city winds me tightly like a spring, and I'm mostly unwound now, but not quite. That may be some of the emotional baggage from the trip as well.

Dodger has a funny habit of using the litter box and then jumping up on the kitchen counter. I try not to think about it.