I'm currently in the process of moving to a new apartment; going to paint and decorate it in Victorian Crazy Cat Lady style; subdued lilac walls, a black and white rose bedspread, black suede curtains, black framed pictures and throw pillows. I joked around with a friend and mentioned this phase of mine and he said, "Join the club darling, I haven't worn anything but black for 3 months". What are we mourning for? Our youth? I've been spying more wrinkles on my forehead and I am torn between wanting to microdermabrasion the fuck out of them or accepting them as mine.
I'm moving after having lived in this wooden apartment for a year; and what a year it has been! My roommate is a wonderful, awe inspiring person and to say that we had a kick-ass time is to seriously understate it. I can't release all of our secrets, but suffice to say that we traveled together, partied together, grew together, laughed together. She is the embodiment of a strong, fierce, independent woman, who at the same time can be the most tender-hearted human ever. She's also really, really funny and talented. I've learned a lot through her and I think I might even be a bit more mature because of her.
I don't have one roommate, I have two. Tuxedo, the sweetest little asshole ever. When I first moved in Tux was no more than 3 months old; a little black blur of ankle biting terror. He then grew and grew and grew and is now a massive, muscular black sateen puma. Heavy and massive, he reminds me of a big, sweet thug. I'm just thankful he is over the Terrible Kitten Stage (TKS) and is now ambling towards Sweet Goof Territory. He's a bit rebellious and inquisitive so it's a bit of a battle of wills between us. Thus the Little Asshole moniker.
I might have a case of the Ants in my Pants; always on the move, going somewhere, doing something. Maybe moving apartments is just another way of keeping on the move. Its like I can never settle down for more than a certain amount of time before I get stir crazy and pick something else up, drop something, leave yet another project/idea/life/moment incomplete. I am consistent in some areas of my life, but there are other areas where everything is incomplete and half assed.
2011 will be a year when I pay more focus on my creative pursuits, which means that there will be more writing and photographing, but it will be more detailed; it won't be just writing per se. Focused writing. I want to write a one act play, I want to write a serious of short stories. I want to take a collection of portraits of my friends in simple backgrounds, just as they are right now, right this moment. A collection of inner turbulence; always searching for the balance; a balance. Many of us are walking on a tight rope, trying to keep everything balanced, or truly searching continuously for that thing that makes sense out of our lives.