Welcome back to WordVomitWednesday! Today is a bit of a struggle because it’s currently 10:49pm, so..I got off to a late start. Oh well.
Today I’m talking about risk – the noun (or verb), not the board game. I don’t know much about Risk the board game, but as far as I know it’s one of those games that ruins friendships.
Risk always has the potential to ruin things, which is why it’s so scary. I guess some people find it exhilarating, but as a perfectionist and control freak, I find it terrifying. In my mind I fantasize about all the risks I’d like to take..then how and when to take them, an extensive plan for each outcome, and whether or not I think the potential reward is worth it.
That song is really the only thing I could think of for a solid 5 minutes when thinking about the topic of jealousy & envy.
This is one of those topics that I know I’m capable of talking about, because I’ve definitely experienced it (I am human after all, shocker), but I’m having trouble putting it into words. Probably because there’s no possible way to make myself look good when talking about jealousy & envy. I don’t know if I know anyone who would proudly say, “Yeah, I’m a jealous person.” Continue reading “#WVW 10 // “It’s my right to be hellish…””→
If you’re new to my blog, #WVW (Word Vomit Wednesday) is a fun little weekly challenge my friend Brian and I started to encourage more consistent and authentic writing. The point is to write down, or word vomit, whatever comes to mind, with lots of vulnerability along the way. Many have joined in on the fun, and you should too! 🙂
When I got my topic for the week – “What defines ‘art’?” – I was pretty sure I had absolutely zilch to say. Do I even know what art is? I’ve never considered myself an artist, or an art connoisseur by any means. Is art just anything creative? Or is it something more specific – a painting? A sculpture? Pottery? Poetry? Music? In college, the art students and film students occupied the same part of campus. (The far back, underdeveloped part, that is.) I would often see said art students outside, sitting on the grass, drawing in their sketchbooks or painting on canvases – you know, looking really artsy. Every so often, they would get to display their art projects across campus, usually in the form of some sort of abstract collection of objects, and I would always stop to look at them when I saw them. The seniors got to showcase their senior theses in our hidden gem of an art gallery. I always thought they were really cool and I marveled at the fact that they wanted to make art for a living – even if it meant that one day they may end up as the ever-romanticized “starving artist.”
So I guess, on the surface, my idea of ‘art’ has been pretty limited to the finearts and cool hipster art kids. Sure, I can call other things ‘art’, but I’d be hesitant to classify me expressing myself creatively through a blog series with “vomit” in the title as ‘art’ in comparison to something like the Mona Lisa. But there’s definitely a more broad definition of art, isn’t there? Continue reading “#WVW 9 // Me, rambling about art.”→
Time – something we always complain about not having enough of, but we so easily waste when we do have it. Days, weeks, months, all seem so short. Monday through Friday, I spend 11 hours of my day on work and have about 6-ish hours to do everything else. I have one day out of the week that I have the freedom to do whatever I want. It feels like I have such little time that I’m always afraid I’ll waste it, so I’m always filling every last minute of my free time with something. It’s a trap I fall into over and over again. I can feel so busy in my day-to-day life, but then when I look back at the big picture, I think, “what have I really done in the past year?” It scares me how the weeks can pass by without me noticing, and how I can feel so absent. Did I really graduate 6 months ago? Have I really been at this job for 5? I’ve been home from London for almost a year? I spent 4 years in college..where did they go?
My mom passed away on October 29, 2009. It’s been 6 years since she passed away, and that means it’s been almost 12 years since she was first diagnosed with young-onset Alzheimer’s disease..and honestly, it feels like I’m living in another lifetime, like everything that happened before that day in 2009 isn’t a part of the life I’m living now. Maybe it’s because I never really allowed myself to grieve in the past 6 years (another topic for another day), or maybe it’s because there have been so many moments in the past 12 that I wasn’t really present in. My mom had such little time here, I had such little time to know her, I didn’t spend enough time with her..time. Quantity. We’ll never feel like we had enough time to do anything, really, because we’ll never feel that 24 hours in a day is enough, and we cannot ever add to that number. It gets to feeling really limiting, doesn’t it?