Sunday March 14, 2010

Rain leave me, ok? 24/i365

Sunday March 14, 2010 I love my wrists just the way they are.

This is what I look like when I am about to cry. Not because of the rain.

Umbrella in my room. I wish I had a piece of cloth I could wrap my entire body in like a cocoon. Tie up my hands with so that I wouldn't do that one thing I do with them that I don't like. I wish I could be happy like other people are, or at least fake it to the point where I believe I am happy.

You are here 34/365

Sunday March 14, 2010

And I am here. You are in those four little black lines joined to make a square, and I am in these lines, and in this mess. Red and raw. Old and new. Between lines and in lines, and above skin and beneath it. You will never know what this is like.

Saturday March 13, 2010

Me and you and everyone we know except that there's only Me, and no you, and I don't know that many people 23/i365

Saturday March 13, 2010 I love my chin.

I feel like a little boy in this photo. Sometimes I wish I could be one. I am wearing my favourite deer shirt, and I feel stronger than I actually am. I feel weak most of the time like I am trying not to cry or trying not to appear shaky and nervous like I feel most of the time. I am starting to not like this project. I am getting sick of my body and sick of having to photograph it even though I know that I am doing this for a good reason.

I held my breath 33/365

Saturday March 13, 2010

I held my breath when she walked onto the stage. I saw her at the Phoenix. This is a picture of her I took before my camera died and before I got a better view of her after some people in front of me left. They said no flash photography and I think that was because she is like a whisper of a girl and she is made of light and soft edges which you cannot capture with excessive, violent brightness. She sang Inflammatory Writ, and I mouthed all the words.

Another photo of her

Friday March 12, 2010

Sick of having an image on the day of the 20th year of life 22/i365

Friday March 12, 2010 I love my freckles.

1. On my birthday it rained.

2. On my birthday I wore a dress.

3. On my birthday I walked half of the day in black flats that lapped up puddles.

4. On my birthday I cried.

5. On my birthday I was very very sad.

6. On my birthday I sat in the menstrual hut by myself and told 20 things to the 5 minutes of Allyson Mitchell, and Sadie Benning, Patti Smith, Kimya Dawson wherever they are.

7. On my birthday no one sang the happy birthday song to me.

8. On my birthday I went to art crawl

9. On my birthday I ran into Andrew and Leah and Millie and saw more art.

10. On my birthday I took the bus as many times as I usually do.

11. On my birthday I got yelled at for not knowing what I want to do.

12. On my birthday I didn't take very many photos.

13. On my birthday I got the Joanna Newsom CD

14. On my birthday a girl who sits behind me threw a note onto my laptop which said, "Nice haircut!" and it made up for a lot of things.

15. On my birthday I gave myself another line that will fade in three weeks I bet.

16. On my birthday I had a deep pain in my chest and my side half brought on by nerves and I thought to myself, "is this really what being 20 is like?"

17. On my birthday I did not get drunk or go out and party like most people my age do.

18. On my birthday the only person who hugged me was my more than drunk father.

19. On my birthday I woke up from a dream about the girl I call sparrow that I like.

20. On my birthday I realized that I was and always will be alone.

Happy Birthday.

Birthday drink 32/365

Friday March 12, 2010

The only drink that I had on my birthday. Happy birthday to me.

Sparrow dreams

Dream 1:

I chased Sparrow on three different busses. I followed her uptown and downtown and on my bus home. I wanted to know every book and movie and musician she loved. I wrote it down in my notebook. I wrote it down and memorized it. I woke up and thought wanted to be over her.

Dream 2:

Sparrow was Carly's girlfriend. And Carly doesn't even like girls. Girls just like her anyways. We were all going to this event for my grandmother's funeral. Like a ceremony of rememberance four years after the fact. Sparrow volunteered to make coffee and got people drinks. It was a hall of sorts with a bar, a bunch of chairs in the front. She sat down beside me and I wanted to tell her about my Aunt Nadine who had commented to me about her and said she looked like a boy who was going through military training. I started by saying, "You know my aunt the one who's going to open her own knitting store?"

She looked at me attentively and smiled in the way that she does. Carly sat down between us, and I stopped talking about my aunt. We moved to a different room afterwards. A small room with wooden floors and plastic chairs. I found Sparrow and sat down beside her. I continued and said, "My Aunt Nadine, she thought that you were a boy who was in the army that she knew." Aunt Nadine came into the door carrying a yellow bristol board she was going to make into a poster for the event. My cousin John said that he heard us all the way down the hallway talking about her.

It was humourous in the dream, and Sparrow laughed, my Aunt laughed, and I laughed. Everyone laughed, and I knew that she would like my family even though I was embarrassed of them.

Assignment #70

Goodbye apathy.

Goodbye fear.

Goodbye negative self talk.

Goodbye complicated.

Goodbye nineteen.

Thursday March 11, 2010

My boyfriend 21/i365

Thursday March 11, 2010 I love my face in profile.

My mother told me the day after I cut my hair and went to school that I should find a boyfriend. "Someone who's rich, and definitely not queer." Michael Degroot will be my boyfriend then. In her eyes he would be perfect if he wasn't a statue. He donated a lot of money to our school. So much so that they paid an artist to art of him and named a building after him. I wonder if he hadn't donated money, if he would have inspired anyone to make art about him. Probably not.

When I was nineteen 31/365

Thursday March 11, 2010

I read this book today. It's one of my favourites, and I read it in english and french at the same time the last time I read it. It made me feel a little teary inside. It's a really beautiful story, and I think that everyone should read it at least once. The most beautiful things are the things that you don't see. I was troubled wondering if the sheep ate the flower, but I do not think he did.

Wednesday March 10, 2010

We write and write and write and to what end? 20/i365

Wednesday March 10, 2010 I love my hands. They are small, and do so much for me. I don't mean that in a crude way. They help me express the things I cannot say. Without my hands I wouldn't have writing, I wouldn't have this kind of writing in the same way that I have it here.

I feel like I have so much to say, and it all spills out in a hundred different books or blogs. I feel sometimes selfish when I don't share ideas or thoughts. Maybe its the echoings of a Christian upbringing, but I think that people should share their talent. Sometimes I feel like I don't do a good job of that. That I keep a lot of my thoughts and ideas to myself and its selfish in a way.

Entrails 30/365

Wednesday March 10, 2010

The snow is melting, and there is a lot of garbage on the streets. This makes me a little sad inside to see so many cigarette butts and waste scattered around. I make a promise to myself and I say that I will run around with a bag and clean everything up, but I never do it because I am either too scared, or would appear weird doing it by myself.