Pink Matter by Frank Ocean is stuck in my head.
It’s midnight. Even though I tire around 11, putt-putt on home around then, I still wage a tiny war against sleep, oft dragging it out past midnight.
I wrote in a notebook today for the first time in a long time. A brief, messy, scrawled journal entry. I am happy. I haven’t properly written in months. My old journal is somewhere, but I haven’t written in it. When I recall it, it holds a different type of energy. Tired, overwhelmed. Nearing the end. I wish I’d taken more photos with my friends, but I remember how exhausted I’d been at the time; there were just so many events…
This’ll probably all sound choppy. It’s late. Not writing makes me write choppy. The less I write, the harder it is to write.
Time flies. For a few weeks I lamented the number of hours in a day, not because there weren’t enough, but because there were too many. Now, it’s the other way around. I’m so happy, I wish for more hours in a day. I wish to stretch this happiness out, taut like putty. To max out on a happiness so simple that I marvel at its simplicity.
I feel as though I’m still getting where I’m going, so it’s not a sense of destination arrived when I write that life feels kind of perfect right now. I mean, it sounds facetious, or superficial, because there’s always something bothersome, right? But I’m at a place where everything feels as though it fell perfectly into place. There’s the happiness of being by the people I care about; there’s the happiness of doing something I enjoy and being well-compensated for it; there’s the happiness of pursuing something I’ve always loved.
Everything’s just woven together so seamlessly I can’t tell if…it’s just a rosy-hued haze? It’s just a satisfying combination of purpose, love, rest, and work.
It feels good to write. Sometimes I smile at people and my face will feel frozen. Or words will get caught in my throat. Or they won’t be there at all. In a lot of ways, writing’s just easier. Right now, it is more difficult than usual, but that’s only because I haven’t done it in a while.
Other miscellaneous life things, in no particular order:
– I have yet to finish Detroit: Become Human, because the series is too good. Other video games just pale in comparison.
– My arms and legs are sore from the workout my boyfriend and I did. I usually don’t like working out with people, but I liked working out with him. We did some cardio together; he worked on arms while I worked on abs; we did abs together. I nabbed some free coffee in between. Later, we got Chipotle, went to Target (hello, new nail polish and eyeliner), went to work, ran more errands, and went home. Lots of went’s. Things we usually do alone are a million times more fun when the other person is tagging along.
– I might carry my DSLR around more often. Looking at photos on WordPress inspires me to take more photos. I have a photo diary account on Instagram, where I’ve been tossing up mundane images. Sometimes I’ll post a photo of the sky. Or of shadows. Or of a person lying sideways, scrolling through their phone at an art museum. Instagram is inundated in so much fakery; where does a small photo diary fit? I don’t have the energy to be excessively fake, posting too-curated images. I just want a place to publicly vomit images, quickly and simply.
– Journaling is so pleasant. I could try journaling on here more often. Or I could simply journal whenever I felt like it. It’s been two years since I started this blog and I’m still not entirely sure what ‘category’ it falls under. A journal? Art blog? Photo blog? Creative outlet, I s’pose.
– Daily Art’s become a frenetic game of catch-up. I put too much pressure on myself to make the perfect piece, then forget or push it aside. I have to stick to it! Stick to the project. 365 projects usually get tough around the latter half.
I think a lot of it’s just a matter of working my creative muscle, continuing to take photographs, write and make art. I will admit, though, that lately I’ve been distracted by life in the best way possible, so I’ve spent much less time than usual staring at a screen. Being creative, though, is like recharging. For me, coolpeppermint is that space to express and create.
On another note, if you are reading this, thank you! Thank you for taking the time to peer at my very-small corner of the Internet. The WordPress community sets it apart from every other blogging platform I’ve ever tried, as a place for people to express and connect in a way that’s both personal and interconnected.
This is just my wordy way of expressing appreciation for your visiting my blog, commenting, contacting, etc.