Adventures in Writing

I'm getting geared up for a few writing projects I have in mind. It looks like Sergio will be going to Virginia to do the Endstation Theatre Festival again May through July so I figure I'll have pleanty of time to knock out a few pages of my latest attempt at a novel. The project I'm most excited about is one that will involve a month long roadtrip up the Eastern Seaboard. Needless to say, that one won't be happening for a while.

This will be the summer of writing. Well, writing and applying to grad school! And eating well! How about the summer of getting my life in order? The summer of doing those things which will make me a more successful and proactive person! All of the above!

Perhaps it's the sunshine outside or the gift of warm weather dangling just out of reach, but I'm feeling pretty gung-ho about things. In a month I'll look back and rejoice at the fact that I'm done moving. In a week I'll be an hours flight outside of New Orleans. Everything will work out because it always works out. I'm always alive at the end of the day and if I'm not, well, I guess I won't care at that point.

I've made the decision that while I'll be lonely without Sergio, I'm going to have a positive summer. It'll only be a tiny two and a half months. Plus I have Fay. It'll be fine.

Moving

In theory, moving a 300 square foot apartment into a much larger house is a thing of simplicity. Through a few dishes and books in a box, tuck your cat under your arm, and boom. Done. After almost two years of feeling settled, I've forgotten this back breaking, mind numbing, nerve bending task and have formed an even greater collection of stuff. From my easel and painting supplies, to my small record collection. From my desk to my bed, this won't be fun. I can rejoice in the fact that I have a few weeks to move out. I dread the day I have to do it all at once. Most of my books are already at home in their new bookshelf and the majority of my kitchen supplies are getting cozy in new cabinets. But there are pots and pans, DVDs, an entire walk-in closet, my bathroom, and all of my furniture left. I need to set goals. This weekend, the rest of my kitchen, the rest of my books, all of my DVDs, video games, records and CD's will be moved. That's the minimum. The following weekend I'll be out of town and then I have one more weekend to get all my small stuff out before I call in the movers to take the big stuff and then clean. It's all very daunting. I need to focus on the future right now. I need to see myself with my little attic painting/writing studio and doing laundry on a weekly basis, and having barbeque's in the backyard, and drinking brandy out of my new little snifters I bought online. Forward, that's where I'm going. Forward, forward, forward. To here, to grad school, to a place I can put down my bags and not move for at least five years. To warmth and happiness, and a tiny slice of contentment (but not enough to stagnate of course). One day soon this move will be complete and I'll bask in the sun of my low rent and ample room.

NOLA

In a few precious weeks I'll be back in the city which will forever have a firm hold on my tiny passionate heart. New Orleans. Just the thought shoots sharp tingles through my arms and legs.

New Orleans, New Orleans, New Orleans.

What can I say about New Orleans that hasn't been said. Oh to live in a city with so vibrant a heart beat, who greets each day with loud, unforgiving music, who can't be beat by any danger sent her way. Her face is weathered and worn but she smiles and welcomes and parties like each day will be her last.

I can't help but think that our fates are intertwined. I fell in love at a young age and through my happy affairs with London and Chicago, I've never felt a diminished pull towards her. The people with endurance I can hardly fathom show such loyalty to her. She locks hands with you and never lets you go.

Now I'm just writing silly, cliched, poetics, but isn't that what we do when we fall and fall hard? I'll be there soon and then I'll be back. Back to Chicago. Chicago's wonderful but I've begun to see we are an ill fit. I'll be here for a while yet, but not forever. I'm an unwitting nomad, perhaps. We'll have to see.

Blog for Blog's Sake

I've been awful this month, haven't I? I've either been busy, didn't have anything to say, or a little of column A and a little of column B. There are a lot of political things I could say, but something tells me I'm preaching to the choir and honestly, there comes a point when I'm just exhausted with the whole thing. I'm not done fighting by any means, but it's gosh darn frustrating!

The sun is shining today which I think means a happy blog is in order. It's funny how easy it is to pick something unhappy to talk about compared with something uplifting. It's not that I'm perpetually gloomy. Well then, let's talk about the sun.

I've missed you, sun. I've missed the bounce you put in my step. I missed the smile you unwaveringly place on my lips. And most of all I missed your radiant warmth. Actually, I still miss that. One thing about living in Chicago, it really makes me appreciate you in a way that Florida never did.

How about cats. Cats make me happy on a regular basis. I've really come into my own as a cat person. I used to deny it. No, I like dogs but cats are easier to take care of, I'd say. The truth is, I like cats better. We're both solitary, moody, intelligent, and lovable (right Sergio?). I get cats and cats get me. I mean, if you think about it, I'm basically a cat in human form. I like to nap. I like to eat. I enjoy seafood. I'm a fan of snuggling. But I'm not a crazy cat woman. Promise. I mean, I only have one. Just because I said I was for all intents and purposes a cat doesn't mean I'm crazy. I'll just stop now.

Money. I don't have it now, but when I do it's awesome. I'm planning on moving soon and all I can think about is the wonderful amounts of cash I'll be saving. And I will be saving too. Few things thrill me more than watching my money market slowly expand. I feel like Scrooge McDuck counting his gold coins and boy does it feel good. I don't think it's a greed thing. It's more of a, if I keep doing this maybe I can one day fulfill my dream of building a LEED certified house with bamboo floors and solar panels kind of thing.

So there you go folks, happy things.

The Hunger Games

I just finished reading The Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins. It's been a while since I've been so wildly impressed by literature intended for a younger audience. Back in the day (for example when Grimm's fairy tale's were first being compiled) children weren't coddled. Stories were a way to introduce children to certain themes which are universal as well as difficult to stomach. Fairy tale's were a way to teach children about death and love and the gamut of human emotion.

The death of a parent isn't as widespread in modern times as it has been in the past. I think parents are inclined to shield their children from as much pain early in life as possible. Who can blame them? I want my children to have an ideal childhood of creativity and discovery. But are we doing more harm by lying about the worlds problem's?

I'm no expert. I'm not even a parent. But I do tend to think that literature is a remarkable way to introduce children to themes that are otherwise unpalatable. In a round about way, removed enough from their own tiny lives, a book might prepare them for the shock of losing a grandparent. It seems to me, even as an adult, that when there is a character in a book that I relate to in someway, it helps me to feel less alone. It stresses the universality of humanity.

The Hunger Games is brilliant in that it refuses to talk down to children. It is written like an adult book with death and war and love. There isn't a fight of good over evil. There's grey area written on every page. Decisions are made that aren't good and just, but the right decision all the same. They are terribly glum books, but addicting and all consuming until the very last page.

The Hunger Games will rank up with His Dark Materials and the Harry Potter series as my favorite "literature for young adults", though I hate that label. I hope there is turn in the genre towards more thought provoking plot and characters. Perhaps it is the twilight of the Twilight's.

So a Blizzard Happened

I'm beginning to hate Chicago. I mean, I don't hate it. Chicago has some really great aspects. I'm having trouble thinking of one currently, but... Well maybe the hot dogs... Maybe if I could live at the Field Museum... The truth is I'm just filled with so much venom when I think about this crazy, cold, bitter, spiteful weather we have. I'm sick of being perpetually uncomfortable! I would like to go outside and not wear forty pounds of winter gear. Ah, dreams.

Are there no bastions of culture in a milder climate? Do we really need to suffer in order to hone our artistry? Can't we live on beaches sipping pina colada's and still write the next great American play? I guess not. But then, why couldn't Florida have culture? Florida doesn't belong exclusively to the old, rich, retired, and republican! Why couldn't I move to New Orleans and start a theatre company the produces plays that focuses on Americana?

But then I want to get a doctorate in Anthropology and teach and travel. I want to find and cultivate those things which make me happy. Can't I have that? I can't until I figure out what those things are.

This has been another episode of "Heather Ranting/Going Off on a Tangent".

It's the Final Weekend

Looking up through the sky light in my office, there are patches of blue. It's been a while since the sky was actually visable. This peek into the heavens, albeit soon to be masked again my clouds and snow, is enough to relax the tension that's been building into a perpetual, dull headache.

I'm in a good mood. I finished one book last night and began a new one this morning on the train (The Awakening and East of Eden respectively). I'm wearing my new, vintage, silver llama pin. His face looks like the llamas in "It's a Small World After All" with a crescent eye and a small smile. It's Friday and I'll soon be lunching with Sergio.

This is the final weekend of my show, Escape from the Haltsburg Boys Choir. It's almost completely sold out! There are literally a couple of tickets left for tonight only and that's it. I'll miss these fantastic people, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit relieved to have some weeks of rest lined up ahead of me. Not really rest though. I'll be rededicating myself to studying so come June I'll pass the GRE with a score high enough in the quantitative section to get into grad school.

But I don't want to think about that right now.

Right now I want crack open this beautiful new book. That's as far ahead as I'm thinking on this quiet Friday. There is plenty of time to worry in the coming months.