Showing posts with label The Decemberists. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Decemberists. Show all posts

Monday, January 31, 2011

How to Stay Motivated, Part 5/January Resolutions Check-In




After half a year doing The Happiness Project, I can wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone whose art occasionally gets slowed down by sadness.

January Resolutions:

  1. Branch out.
I branched out in the following large and small ways:
a. I learned how to use panko breadcrumbs, inspired by The Iron Chef and Rachel Ray. Here is a nice piece of flounder that Amy made me with panko and sesame seeds.
b. I finally warmed up to the idea of buying one song at a time. (# Latest of all late adopters.)
3. I typed more potential words into the Scrabble Dictionary. “Baith”? Who knew?
4. I did some new things when it comes to poetry, to very satisfying results.

  1. Practice trust.
 
I’m still not sure what that means, but the other day, Amy had a snow day, so she walked over to work with me. I brought her down to the Children’s Dept. and introduced her to the librarian ladies and some of the kids. It made me realize that the homophobia of my old job is truly behind me, and I’ve started to heal. Plus, I got to show Amy our ADORABLE MLK Day Bulletin board.

  1. Get pretty drunk sometimes.

Best. Resolution. Ever. It resulted in lots of extra fun and dancing and lots of only-semi-appropriate flirting. Resolution 3 FTW.

  1. Bring 2010 Photos into the physical realm.

They’re all uploaded to Shutterfly and I’ve ordered about half of the prints that I want. Guess I’ll make this a February resolution, too.

  1. Schedule and study for the PRAXIS.

It is scheduled for Feb. 28 and I plan to start studying this week. So excited!


Friday, January 21, 2011

Poetic License Horoscope for January 21-27



Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): Do whatever turns you heart to Jello, makes you evaporate with praise, makes your face light up like Lite Brite pegs. You’ll find them everywhere.

Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): According to Rumi, “This being human is a guest house,” into which we should welcome all of our emotions. Make pancakes for your Grief, fluff up pillows for Fear, let Joy plug in and charge all of its devices. They’ll be back on the road soon enough.

Aries (March 21-April 18): It’s hard sometimes to leave 2010 in 2010, but I sometimes make good on that resolution. Let old monsters go mute. Discover the cure for Mentionitis. (And email it to me, please.)

Taurus (April 19-May 18): “You are the one/solid spaces lean on, envious.”-Sylvia Plath

Gemini (May 19-June 21): “When your world feels like the bottom of an/ ocean, remember that bioluminescence isn’t just for the fish. / Open up your chest and shine. / Someone will catch you.” –McKendy Fils-Aimé

Cancer (June 22-July 23): From The Decemberists’ January Hymn: “What were the words I meant to say before you left? /When I could see your breath lead /Where you were going to /Maybe I should just let it be? /And maybe it will all come back to me "

Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): Your face is a picture of moving lights, a star map, a Map of the Stars’ houses. Your hands are fashioning gold out of snow, but your shoulders are getting tired.

Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): Turn off your screens and feel less jittery. (After you read this, of course!) Hear the hum of the heaters and the noise of the sheets. You are a religion of baths and blankets, a hibernation of books. Exhale.

Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Much like my friend Emily, your heart takes little Polaroids of everything and pastes them into a book. It writes out each date in neat block letters and carefully collects quotations.

Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Oh, dear. It’s time to take down the Christmas tree. This year, decorate for winter. 3-D snowflakes are easy to make, and so are the flat ones, if you fold and cut carefully.

Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): Not to get super-meta here, but horoscopes are a made-up system, and you are a free elf. Read whichever one sounds like the most fun. Identity is kind of a hologram anyway.

Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): Watch Catfish. Think about art, identity, surveillance, smushed pennies taped to postcards, and Google Earth.