Funky Little White-Out

So downtown has had a christmas face lift in the last two days. The snow has continued to stick, and I would say that we have a good 2 or 3 inches. A strange blizzard olympia. This morning I went to SIZIZIS, new black 24 hour cafe, and read and wrote and felt more productive then I have in a long time. The coffee was acidic and strong, and the mood was more sinister-antique then I had anticipated. Elegant wood working, i wish I had brought a comic book. I saw Am'Lee bobble by, and ran into her later at clubside with david. She had eaten a hamburger. Meatfest 08 is underway. I ate some great fish and chips lastnight that oni swipped from fishtale. We watched some of the CIVIL WAR documentary and got tired. Cold feet, I want to take a shower, but I have to wait for the UPS truck to deliver skinny jeans. I wish there was a 'Skippers' downtown. I had a dream lastnight were my old neighbors put up some rad glow in the dark wallpaper.

diablogical dreaming

this morning i woke up on a pull out couchbed with two friends and they asked me to tell them a bedtime story but i had just woken from a dream and in this dream i was stoned and so i said no i'm too stoned dreaming to tell it and they laughed but in this dream i was on an island probably Jamaica or Antigua i think so on this island i smoked weed at the island version of the big scary black house and kevin and i sat on the chair together smoking and talking and caroline biked there and she got naked on a toilet and loaded a bowl and there was this huge bridge to cross to get to the funky island downtown but the view was so different but so the same too and rosie was walking in front of me wearing a bomber jacket and i spray painted gold letters on the back of her jacket that said Rosie Loves Reno the view was so different and gus was there and he and i walked around the island Antigua? and we looked at jewelry and a computer shop and i had ferry anxiety because the boat was leaving so i went to the YMCA and the doors kept getting smaller once i was in there and it was more and more anxiety feeling and i was given mac n cheese and other foods on styrofoam plates i don't think i made the ferry because i was stoned in antigua.

I remember when we first let ourselves have armpit hair;
and ate mac and cheese sitting in circles on the floor in the soup, weird boys on drugs crawling through the window and empty Carlo Rossi jugs collecting dust on empty surfaces.I remember the four of us and how we'd stomp around to Janis and have parties for no reason and convince people to give us their car. How we were going to GET A HOUSE! and MOVE OFF CAMPUS! and BE REAL PEOPLE!
and it was exciting.

Last night downtown Olympia was LetTheFreshmanOffCampus night I think, there were little girls in cute unique outfits sitting at Cafe Vita planning to get a house together. Talking about staying the summer. Talking about making lives together making lives with Olympia being excitedexcited and feeling grown up. It was a weird feeling, that knowing feeling. Looking at them with a smile and remembering my first fall quarter,

How ultimately exciting yet ultimately horrifying everything was and how I really was making a life for myself although I hardly knew it.

I am reading that book that there are millions of copies in the attic of the SafePlace business office, that book thats called Listen Up. And theres a story I read today and this girl talks about growing up, she says,
I was just waiting for my life to begin.

I realized today when I read the SafePlace book that thats all that I do, I just wait for my life to begin. I plan. I plan and plan and plan. And at the end of this plan, is my life, whenever I will actually get to it. When exactly do I think that my life is beginning? When will things actually happen for me when will I feel like I'm living- Is it ever going to feel like its real?

This is how I felt when I packed all my life up seven suitcases two carry-ons three boxes and more in the mail. This is how I felt when I got ready to leave for Olympia, I felt ready for my life to begin. And ever since, I think I've kept on waiting. So why have I not thought about that freshman land and how and what it did to me and who I've become since? Is this the life I've planned on? Isn't what I'm living what I planned to do six months ago?

Everything seems so beautiful in hindsight. This we know. So warm and cozy we can curl up with nostalgia and eat if forever just like Danny's pasta. But why is it so great when its not happening and why is it also so great when it hasn't happened yet?

You've got the world at your fingertips. You're young, you're beautiful, you're intelligent, you're happy. You can do so many things and you can go so many places. But you've got to believe in yourself, and believe in where you can go and what you can be. And to do this you must see where you've already gone and what you already are. And that's where it gets hard.


I remember that first winter here and the way we all exploded into ourselves. Amelie joined a million student groups, fell in love with a million things, smoked a million Newports, and told me a million times "Fuck the Patriarch". Becca got grown up and got writing and got a tattoo. Joelle put up a tent in the field, taped her hands in to claws, ran away to a meditation retreat, dropped out, bought a boat, got banned from Safeway, Lord Knows Really.

I can't remember what happened with me. Maybe I conveniently forgot. But I would like to explode into myself again sometime soon. And this time, I have some idea of what to do with it.

Reminiscing of times gone down the drain.

Sitting home and I wish I wasn't. But I am staying faithful for an appointment to talk. Scheduled conversations could be uncomfortable for multiple parties. I almost said something today in class, and I remain proud of myself for attempting to attempt. We are pondering the absence of matter that a screen is. It is the first time we have attempted to cover some thought figures that can relate to something other then themselves. This can be political; or social in the very least. Maybe I'll forgo a power internship? With SweetTooth in Seattle, and Magoo somewhere else, I am at a loss about what to do. The new record player is spinning with the needle off of the vinyl. The sound it makes as it travels round fits well with the rain dropping. Scattered entries can be productive. Poem, Paragraph, or Traditional Autobiographical Diary Entries, We remain a tolerant blog (and I pray that this entry will not be an exception.) I went to Sarah's work to apologize and A lady who doesn't work there questioned my age; she looked like the sort that I could feel okay about judging on appearance. In short, I didn't want to speak with her any longer then I had to, so I said I was under 21 to avoid questioning and further contact. The further contact would have obviously been a demand to see identification. Even though it would have taken 3 or 4 extra seconds to fib in a recreational manner, saying that I had absentmindedly forgotten it at home, I was through looking at this woman.    She then requested that I remove myself from the bar. It was a sorry walk home, I didn't even really get to say I was sorry. No phone at home alone. Economic tsunami.     

thriving, teasing, timeworn

little sad lonely night:
smoking outside my window
feet on canoe,
smoking lavender producing
less sleep than ever.
suppressed laughter and potsmoke
is creeping under/over the hall.
the women in blues-history
is less inspiring, out of mind
when emptiness of computer screen wins always.

laughter is less suppressed
when it is pulled out couches,
miles south, splurge and slumber
retelling proven to be apathetic.

for fuck's sake! (does) reflection change anything

each experience is worth twenty points

Get your clay (about a half pound is a good start for beginners) and start squishing it. Squish on it here, then over there, then there... I advise to not fold it over itself, as that would create what you're trying to get out, air bubbles. Squish your clay until it's workable. You can check your clay by cutting it in half with a wire. When you cut it and don't see any air bubble it should be good to go.

This is how you start to center your clay.

Smack into a round ball. Smack, not pound.

There is no pounding when you try to get centered.

Throw your clay as close to the middle as you can.

You are trying to get centered.

Start spinning the wheel and center your clay. Center the clay by placing one hand on the side the the other on top of the clay ball. The hand on the side should push towards the middle of the wheel and the hand on top should just keep the clay from pushing up into a cone. You will know it is centered when the clay looks like it is not moving but the wheel is moving. This step is extremely important if your clay is not centered it will be difficult/impossible to make a nice pot.

#

Mr. Olsen said I would fail 3D art but it turned out failure meant a C. And that was fine with me. It would have been pretty embarassing if I actually failed an art class.

All I did in i high school was go to art class. Well not art class so much as art room. I liked making things. I liked working things into other things. I liked bobbling around and thinking about stories and songs and how colors interacted with them. How peoples heads responded to notes and tunes and words and noises. I was on top of the world. I listened to sunshiney motown music in my minivan every morning. I drank cheap wine on bonfires and beaches every weekend. I read books that I wanted to read for me and not for school. I was surrounded by love and glee in people and in pictures.

I hated 3d art because it scared me. First of all, I hated the soddering iron. Growing up with a firefighter made flame of any kind a scary, scary thing. I didn't want to sodder things. Not a ring, not a scultpure, not a single assignment that brought to mind the scary murmuring of mom-and-stepdad conversations the morning after a brutal fire in which stepdad would not tell details. So those assignments, I avoided.

Moreso than anything, the problem with 3d art was that damn pottery wheel. I hated that pottery wheel. I could not spin. I could not sculpt. My clay was never a distinguishable form before I angrily crumpled it up and threw it into the bins making sluree. I didn't have the patience or the agility. My clay never got centered. If your clay is not centered, you cannot turn it into anything else. So I never made anything because I never got centered, and this and my fear of fire is why I really-but-not-really failed 3d art.

#

Wet your hands, and raise the clay into a cone, then squish it down into a thick hockey puck. You can do this a couple of times. It is called wheel wedging and it helps condition the clay. Make sure it is still centered when you are done.

Of course, you cant actually do this if you are not centered. If you're clay is not centered, you're clay is not going to do anything else.

Wet Your hands and stick your thumb slowly into the middle (spinning of course) until it leaves about 1/2 of an inch for the bottom. Also until it make a round hole in the clay.

Wait, what did I just say?! You cant do this if you didn't get centered. Did you ever get centered? IF YOURE CLAY IS NOT CENTERED YOUR CLAY IS NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING ELSE.

Stick your four fingers into the hole, and slowly pull out until the hole is about as big as you want the bottom to be. Place your fingers on the edge of your newly widened hole. Place one hand on the outside and the other on the inside of the clay wall make sure they are directly in line with each other so if you removed the clay from between them your finger tips would touch. Pull up the walls by starting at the base of the pot and pulling towards the top with even pressure on you finger tip. Continue this until you reach your desired height or until the walls are about a centimeter thick.

THIS IS POINTLESS DONT YOU GET IT. YOUR CLAY WAS NOT CENTERED. YOU CANNOT MAKE A POT.

Wet your hands, if you want to shape it, just "cup" the part of it that you want to be smaller then the other. This just take practice to learn.If you want the top to be a bit wider than the neck, slowly pull it out a bit. Not too much, or it'll fall off.

What do you mean by "if you want", you can't want anything, theres nothing to have! You're not making a thing! How are you going to shape something that you never got started correctly in the first place?! You have no foundation. Without a foundation, what do you build on?! You can't make a pot when you never centered your clay, your clay is not alright, your clay cannot do anything else until you first center it!!#! WHEN IS THIS GOING TO GET THROUGH TO YOU!?

When you're finished, get a wire or fishing line, and use it to cut the bottom off the wheel.

When you're finished? What a joke. When did you get started?

Scooter's christmas wish-list:

1) Snow-Scooter.