Viewing life through the lenses of an artist is a different experience, a different sort of life. “You read too much into things.” I’ve heard that before, multiple times. Maybe it isn’t that I read too much into things, if at all. Some say I’m blind to the physical world, I think it’s eye-opening. It could be both, or neither. I’m never preoccupied with the truth.
“You’re so complicated,” they argue. “In what way?” I wonder. “You create an elaborate essay out of one simple aspect.” I admit, I am very much complex, but not complicated. My complexity is the bottom of the ocean the scientists have not yet discovered. I do not understand my complexity, but it isn’t the way you describe. My complexity is not complicated. My complexity is beautiful.
Categorize me into your little boxes. Scoff. Roll your eyes. Base my success on the prestige of my job title. Determine my worth by correlating my income with my age. We live in a world where judgment doesn’t hide in corners, oh, it’s not like that at all. It’s on every busy street.
“She’s a dreamer.” they say with a grain of salt.
I am a dreamer.
You see, I never see a palm tree as just an exotic plant imported into America for decorative purposes. That sentence in itself has triggered in me an image of palm trees as ornaments on a tree.
I gaze from my balcony, and one palm tree with its feather-shaped leaves is a woman from the 1800’s dressed in a crinoline topped with a bonnet. I feel modesty, meekness. The other palm tree across the street is a hot air balloon, suspended. I feel a sense of grounding. Indoor palm trees with their fan-shaped leaves are peacocks - peacocks perched with their wings confidently spread open, ready for love. You see, in this description of palm trees, I’m already very much getting carried away.
To the onlooker it may appear that I am embellishing the world. Maybe this is just how I see it. I don’t scour for beauty. This isn’t out of desperation. Beauty comes knocking on my door. Beauty is that welcoming elementary classmate who asked you if you would like to join her on the swings.
“Get your head out of the clouds,” they joke, but I can sense the cautious seriousness from their tone. Your humor is as satirical as the crinolines.
Maybe artists are slightly mentally imbalanced because we lose ourselves in our surroundings. On the contrary, we become found in a way that cannot be described through literal language. The literal world is bleak - it lacks emotion, I’m just going to throw that out there. You say her purse is full, I say her purse is a Mary Poppins bag. Do you know what a Mary Poppins bag symbolizes? Magic. Her purse is magic. Do you feel that? That enrapturing feeling…
And I don’t care what you have to say. You cannot convince me it is anything but magic.
Sometimes this beauty find its way into a poem. God bless words. The way the mind translates emotions into words to the best of its ability astounds me each and every moment. Words are so powerful. Words are moments frozen in time. Writing, like any form of art, is the way the mind photographs a moment. Everything is poetry, and everything, my god, is art.
I was just on the phone with my mom and I had told her I wanted to be a preschool teacher because it’s almost nearly, if not entirely, impossible to get a job with this psychology degree at this age. I’ve realized that I am most likely competing with other psychology majors in their mid-late 20s who, like me, meet the requirements, but they surpass them. I don’t blame them. With age comes wisdom and experience.
I told her that I only want the best of the best, that I want either a high-paying psychology job or a not-so-high paying job but deeply sparks my interest. But the geographic location I’m looking at is restricted to the Bay Area. She told me this is insane, because I have to start somewhere, precisely, the bottom. And in response I told her I can’t do anything that doesn’t feel right. I will not look for a job elsewhere because there is no other environment such as California, even if I could easily find a psychology-related job in say, Nebraska or Michigan.
And it’s silly. It really is. But I know the right opportunity will come. I just have to be patient. I am not going to sell myself off to a low-paying psychology job that I do not enjoy, because actually, I do not mind starting at the bottom. It just has to interest me. I will not go to work at least 25 hours, if not 40, and spend all of my energy stalking the hands of the clock until I can leave.
A stubborn dreamer? Or is that redundant? I am not concerned with how much prestige my job title holds, and I am not concerned with how much money I have.
Everybody is absolutely right. I do not know what I am doing with my life. But isn’t that phrase symbolic in itself - because it only represents a matter of time before I will? I will find something, everything.
i wish you were here so we could do cute things like trace the perimeter of each other’s hands
“Do you often change perspectives?”
“Yes. You get bored unless you’re analyzing situations”
“OMG. You are the most insightful person ever. Maybe that’s why you’re my best friend”
“PROBABLY LOL you keep me sane”
“You keep me insane…”
“I am depressed today. My past is coming back to haunt me”
“What are you thinking and feeling?”
“It’s hard when I make mistakes and finally feel ok and forgive myself, then people and things just won’t leave me alone and let me forget”
“You can’t feel a certain way without giving permission to others. Reflection is great but you can’t grow from it if you’re attached to how people perceive you. People can’t ‘make you feel’ a certain way. You make yourself feel a certain way. Other people are just the trigger. but when you blame others for the way you feel (esp negatively), it’s hard to grow when it strikes again. Accepting responsibility for how you feel means no one can control your emotions, because you realize you are the one that does”
“No I hate people BUGGING ME”
“If you perceive people as bugging you, that means you’re sensitive to the topic they brought up and that you never actually moved on from it. You still care, but you don’t want to admit it I’m guessing. Facing your past is different from moving forward”
“Maybe I’m just facing it by trying to move on”
“Well I think you either are whimsical about your emotions or you’re too hard on yourself, so there’s no balance really. You switch from freedom to being caged. I think when you’re free, you’re very liberated, inspired, and happy. But when you’re caged, you’re very short-fused”
:”Yeah that’s very true. Thanks for helping I LOVE YOU”