I Just Might Explode

hmm.

I had meant to blog the last few days, but just wasn't feelin' it. Finals + exhaustion + everything, y'know. I survived the worst. Alli, Dina, and I went to Coney Island yesterday afternoon. It was a bit cold and windy, but not anything like the last time we went. I didn't take any pictures, but I did dip my toes in the sand and that was just fine. 

I've been working the last few hours on some paintings that are due on Monday. I spent most of the day cleaning and packing. I took the stuff off my walls and threw out a bunch of bad drawings(but kept the ones I couldn't part with) and took lots of trips to the dumpster. I just have my desk, scrapbook drawer, and clothes to pack. 

I gave my coffeemaker away to a friend... That was weird. That little fellow has been my comrade these last 8 months. Made that long walk back from Target carrying it worth it... I'm going to spend tomorrow in the city. One last day in the Met for the McQueen show and soaking up in the sunshine in Central Park and one last dinner in this wondrous, wondrous city. I'm sad, but happy. Happy, but sad. 

 

changes.

I've put off writing this for awhile because I knew once I said it, it was real. Not that it's bad or anthing(quite the opposite!), but I guess it means it's real... 

I have decided to transfer to a school in Portland, OR next year (PNCA) and leave my precious NY behind. This is a decision that has been on my mind since last October. You might remember that I was feeling a lot of trepedition about moving to New York last summer. I questioned whether Pratt was the right school and if I could handle being so far away from home... I stumbled through a summer of weird decisions and confusement and found myself in a very humid Brooklyn, New York with three stuffed suitcases and a huge fear of the unknown.  

Making the transition from child to adulthood is awkward. It's odd to be 17 years old and have to make a decision that will effect you for the rest of your life and I honestly could not tell what you brought me to my decision to go to Pratt last year. I just did it. And, boy, I did it.

Let me just say that Pratt is a fantastic school(with it's faults of course) but as I came to the realization of the extent of my student loans and what that would mean for me in the context of stuff I want to do. Moving and doing this taught me that I was capable. I could move to the biggest city in the country and take care of myself(to an extent) and be fine. Be quite happy even. Yeah, it was hard. But the distance wasn't that bad and homesickness eventually fades and everything becomes normal and quite lovely. Not perfect, but I liked it here. But.

Doing this? It made me realize I want to travel. I realized that I think I want to go to grad school someday. I realized that even though I love this city with all my heart... I mean, it was the city that raised me in a weird way... That I didn't want to live here for more than a few years.

I realized I wanted to start my businesses and have financial goals that could not be achieved with $1200 rent and huge student loans. I realized that a school is just a school and I didn't have to go to the supposed "best". I realized that I am extremely self motivated. 

My student loans have cost me a lot of anxiety this year. That anxiety manifested in ways I couldn't handle and honestly scared me... 

I started thinking about transferring to a less expensive school. I know that art school is the right thing for me. Seriously, not a doubt in my mind. But, I was unenthusiastic about it. I have a weird loyalty and pride in Pratt. I started to make friends and figure out how to get places without looking up directions and digging in my roots and fall in love with this city. I was sad to leave it all behind and wasn't sure if I had it in my to do this whole "starting over" thing again. But then...

Not to overly romanticize it or anything, but I started thinking I could transform my life. I mean, I can do whatever the hell I want to do. I'm starting to figure out what I want with my life and I can start all over again. With new people and new city streets to learn and more self realization. 

As I started to seriously think about transferring, the attitude of living my life in NY changed. Before I thought I thought I would stay in NYC for the next few years, so I would think, "Oh, I can just do that later". But, when I didn't know if I could actually just do it later, I started to do more things... I decided to see the Rockettes and go the tree lighting and go on more adventures... I think this is an exciting way to live... To live like this is the last year you are in a place... It's liberating. 

I applied to some schools this year and was accepted, but the school that stuck with me from the beginning was PNCA. I adore Portland and PNCA seems to be a great fit. Not to mention much cheaper and closer to home. Portland is like 7 hours away from Boise. Far away enough that I can't just pop home on a weekend, but close enough that I could drive down there with all my stuff and go home for Thanksgiving and such. Rent is mucha cheaper there, so I'm crunching numbers and planning on getting my own apartment next Fall(something that would have been impossible for me in NY). 

I've had quite a few people express their dissapointment in this decision, but I really can't communicate enough that I feel like this is right. The decision felt organic, something that I ruminated over for 6+ months. I let the change come... Maybe this is bad, but I didn't seek a lot of outside help or opinions with it. The decision was completely mine and, I don't know, but that's a good feeling...

I signed my withdrawal forms for Pratt next Fall and the academic advisor director had to sign the papers and said to me "It's all about the right fit. You'll be fine, sister. Good luck on all your adventures!".  I sorta wanted to cry as I signed that sheet and realize that it was real... I was leaving behind these friends and the brick covered campus and all the growing up I did. I kept thinking about what he said as I walked away and just reminded myself "you'll be fine, sister". And I will be. And maybe it won't work out perfectly or things will change, but I can change my mind again and move somewhere else or decide to drop everything and be a hippie instead.

I can do whatever. And this is what I'm doing. I love you.

i'm gonna be.

i wrote one of those cheesy "your music helped me through a really hard time and for that i'm grateful" emails to a musician i adore last summer. i told her a little bit about a broken heart and how i was moving and starting afresh far away. i told her thank you.

a few weeks after i sent it, she emailed me back. it was one of those heart swelling moments that i will remember for a long time. i was humming along to her beautiful songs tonight as i was cleaning my little dorm room and i remembered the email.

i was in a rough place last summer. worrying i had made the wrong decision. completely not knowing if i could do it. i was scared out of my mind. i was still sad and raw and open...

she wrote me a lot of wonderful things, but one i remember amidst her beautifully placed italics and wise words was this:

"...and then in another way, i felt joy for you... this new beginning you're about to embark on in new york. diving into the beauty you are. you deserve it."

i'm cleaning my dorm room tonight. my coffee is brewing in my own little coffeemaker. i just spent the last week showing my best friend around a city where six months ago i didn't know Midtown from the Bronx. yesterday i wore a hippie skirt and drew a sharpie tatto on my wrist and giggled at British baristas in coffeeshops with my friend from Nashvillle. today i scanned art i have made. the usually grumpy security guard complimented me on my hair color and a random guy on the street said "you're beautiful... how you doin'?..." and then "god bless you!" as i walked on by and ignored him. i just realized how blessed i am to have such a beautiful life. it's not always glamourous, i mean tonight i spent a good hour watching chelsea lately videos on youtube and eating way too many ritz bitz and feeling annoying... i have a lonely night of homework and work to catch up on tonight, but i keep playing these songs over and over and thinking that i did it and i'm okay. 

with a lot of help from my friends. my supportive and loving family. from that beautiful musician who took the time to respond to my silly email. with minutes of peace from God when all i could pray was 'get me home safely' and 'i'm sad. i love you.'

and that's all i felt i needed to say tonight.

sweet dreams.

today.

I'm curled up with the fleece blanket Steph got for me years ago at Christmas. I am sitting on my bed. It's only 4:15, but it gets dark in New York early. The salmon colored lights in the courtyard are on already and they have fallen over Victoria's desk. My nails are mint green. I'm going home three weeks on Monday. I miss my family and my best friends and the streets I grew up on and the smell of my house. School is empty and I'm surprisingly okay with the aloneness. I have made good friends since I moved here and I am grateful for them, but I have changed. I have spent a lot of time alone in the last three months. Subways into the city by myself. Walks to the grocery store or to the post office. I eat more meals by myself than I meals with other people. Just with my thoughts and sometimes talking to God.

I like it. I like being alone. I liked being alone today.

"I'm wondering if I should stop looking and start living, or if I'm supposed to do those things at the same time." I wrote that a year ago. 

I thought that I had myself figured out to a different degree. But lately, I've been realizing I don't. I have a lot of growing up to and things to learn and life to live. I'm going to be twenty in 18 months. I don't like this '"finding myself" stuff because it's dumb and cliche sounding, but it's kinda true. I've been doing that. A lot of that.

Today I am proud of that. Today I am thankful and blesssed. For this city. For my family and my friends. For God. Happy Thanksgiving...

Listen to this beautiful song and hug everyone extra long.

tired.

i was walking down the hallway earlier this week and thinking that it was hard. to do everything that i want to do. to be eat healthy. get the exercise i'm supposed to need. to finish all my homework and finish it well. keep my dorm clean. wear cute clothes and curl my hair. be a good daughter, sister, friend. to stay on top of emails. take care not to be annoying, rude, selfish, dramatic, vulgar. not procrastinate. plan for the future. live in the moment. learn new things. be the best. blog unique things. remember to do this. remember to do that. it's goes on and on and on. "it's just really hard".

and then something said "you don't have to be perfect at everything, you know. you don't even need to do everything".

i don't know where the balance is. i have things i want do. there is person that i want to be.

but. there are things i need to do. things i don't need to be. and i have to care of the person that i am right now.

the little girl who doesn't have it figured out. who's very hard on herself. who gets frustrated with herself when she just can't do it. who berates herself for sleeping in when her body needs it. who ridicules dumb mistakes.

this week i'm going to remember that i'm imperfect. and that's okay. so is not finishing my to-do list. or being the best. i am just who i am right now and that's fine for right now.

Today I'm stressed out, hormonal, tired. My heart is hurting for a friend and I don't know what to do and my allergies have started and I'm irriatated with myself and feeling mean and unkind.

My sister sent this song to me this morning and as a rule, I dislike Christian music. Most of it really, really sucks. And often makes me feel bad for feeling confused and, well, human. I think this one is different though.

 

I know I need You
I need to love You
I love to see You, but it's been so long
I long to feel You
I feel this need for You
And I need to hear You, is that so wrong?


Now You pull me near You
When we're close, I fear You
Still I'm afraid to tell You, all that I've done
Are You done forgiving?
Oh can You look past my pretending?
Lord, I'm so tired of defending, what I've become
What have I become?

I hear You say,
"My love is over. It's underneath.
It's inside. It's in between.
The times you doubt Me, when you can't feel.
The times that you question, 'Is this for real? '
The times you're broken.
The times that you mend.
The times that you hate Me, and the times that you bend.
Well, My love is over, it's underneath.
It's inside, it's in between.
These times you're healing, and when your heart breaks.
The times that you feel like you're falling from grace.
The times you're hurting.
The times that you heal.
The times you go hungry, and are tempted to steal.
The times of confusion, in chaos and pain.
I'm there in your sorrow, under the weight of your shame.
I'm there through your heartache.
I'm there in the storm.
My love I will keep you, by My pow'r alone.
I don't care where you fall, where you have been.
I'll never forsake you, My love never ends.
It never ends."

 

How am I? I don’t hate it, but I don’t love it all the time. I understand what people mean when they talk about New York City now. I recognize the glazed and guarded faces of subway riders and I nod somewhat understandably when people talk about rent prices, crappy subway services, and traffic. I smile to myself listening to all the different languages and skin colors I encounter by just walking down a street. There is something otherworldly about these streets and these people crammed in together.

I had prepared myself to be homesick and I knew that it was to be expected. The first night I cried and I was in the shower because that’s where one goes when one wants to cry and have no one else see you. You know how you have two different voices going in your head? I have the irrational, truthful, scared one and then the other one is rational, the “pep-talk” giver. I was running through all of the reasons where I made the wrong choice or how I couldn’t handle this and I’m going to be all alone and then my other narrator shut me down “Kara, you are allowed to feel sad. You are allowed to cry all you want tonight. You are allowed to be lonely because that is normal. It is normal to feel this way. You are here for a reason, now cry all you want”. I would give this advice to any of my friends in a heartbeat, but it was the first time in my life where I gave it to myself in the moment I needed it. Normally I would just kick myself for being weak and whiny and try to find an instant fix to my bad thoughts. I cried that night and woke up the next day okay.

I get my homesick bouts. I think of how much easier it would be to be at home, working at a coffee shop and being around all the people who know me for who I am. I think about how much I wish I had a boy to hangout with me on the weekends and make me laugh when I’m doing homework at 2 a.m. I wish and daydream just like I always have and I re-read old private journal entries to remember that life wasn't as easy as I remember it. I'm sad and lonely and tired, but it's not as bad as I imagined it to be.

I’m not writing this to complain or to ask for advice or anything, because I think I’m doing okay. I’m riding it out. I’m figuring out what I want. I’m taking steps to find a church I love and a community outside of these gates, friends I identify with, goals to work for, and a routine that makes me content. I’m learning to find enjoyment in my mundane and often uninspiring homework assignments instead of just trying to get through them so I can watch a TV show online. I’m trying to find my personal balance between alone time and time with other people.

Truthfully, it’s not the college experience I dreamed about. Sometimes I hate the city and this school and other times I love both. I dream about the life I want right now and this isn’t necessarily it. But the thing is… At least in the past, my little fantasies are considerably less amazing then what I have actually experienced. So I try to find out what it is that I want and what steps I can take to bring it there and just try to be patient through it all. I knew I’d get here and be homesick and regret everything and that’s all happened. Right now it’s a time of patience. Being patient with my creativity that seems to be hiding from me and being patient with finding the right church for me and patient waiting for people to change my life. Patience, patience. 

hmmm.

this is what i see tonight:

this is what i wish i was seeing:

i need a cuddle on my couch and my best friend.

summer reflections

I might pack up my bedroom this weekend.

I've been wanting to go ahead and peel the masking tape off the magazines, postcards, and paper do-dads that are stuck to my wall.  I've thought about replacing my quilt with the blanket that's going to live on my bed while I'm gone. I've even been wanting to  freaking iron my scarves so I could fold them and make a 'to-pack' pile. Since when do I iron scarves?

I haven't though. And I don't think it's laziness that's stopping me.

This last summer and month has been really weird for me.

All through high school it was to get the good grades. That’s what kept me going. It was direct the play or memorize that role or create a class or take those photos or get into that college. This summer it was to make that class and get that Etsy update. And then it stopped. I've had days full of nothiness ahead of me. I would have begged for a nothing day just months ago and now I have too many.

A friend asked me recently why I do everything that I do. This blog, classes, Pratt, the etsy shop. All of my creative stuff. 

I said it was because I have to prove to everyone else that I can.

He asked who.

It stopped me for a second. I thought about the dread that I've felt when telling people what I'm doing this next year. I guess it is strange for little Kara to be running off to New York City. It's made me mad how much it bugs me to tell people. I dislike the questioning looks and the dumb questions. Yes, I realize I'm going to be homesick and that NYC is a culture shock and that bad influences will be lurking in the secular corners of an art school. But now can you shut the hell up?

But in that moment. My head on his shoulder and with a quiet voice, I knew it wasn't them. 

"Myself".

What is that I have to do to prove to myself? What is it that I'm trying to prove?

It seems to always be: You have to try harder, why didn't you do that months ago? Why haven't you been trying harder? Why? You should have done more. Tried harder.

My days of nothing beg these questions. I tried to no avail to get a job this summer. I mean, I even applied and interviewed at effing McDonalds and they didn't even hire me.  I could have worked harder for one. I could go on for awhile about the stuff I should have worked harder for, but it's annoying to listen to and I sure don't want to share it. 

I've had no goal for the last month and I'm realizing that life is weird for me handle without a goal. I need to have something to work for. Because I think that having that goal achieved is going to make me happy and then I realize it doesn't, but then I'm bored. Just very bored and irritated with myself.

Anyhow. Just an odd realization.

About my room... I might rip everything off tonight. Or I might wait.

Wait for what? I don't know.

i am embarasssed to share this.

but. i believe transparency in blogging good. and this has been suffocating me for awhile and needs to get out. i don't know who to talk to about it. so i'm going to you about it. whoever you are.

i keep feeling like i made the wrong decision. i'm literally making myself sick because of it. i can't stop thinking about. i'm not excited. why am i not excited? it's my effing birthday week. i love birthday week. i'm not even looking forward to saturday.

i hate saturdays. did you know that? i hate saturdays. and my birthday is on a saturday.

it's all about me don't you know?

and it makes me that he isn't here to tell me make me feel better. i know he didn't actually make it better. he just made it feel better. and i'm a stupid insecure teenage girl who wants to feel better.

i hate that i'm making myself miserable. i hate that i keep second guessing myself.

but what if i'm just another stupid hipster who want to be a photographer? what if i get there and i fail and get homesick and find that God is just as far away from me there as he is here.

i am just pissed again. i prayed and i never got an answer. so i made a decision. i never have felt peace about it.

that's all i want. i just want to wake up and know that i am doing the right thing. is that so much to ask for? REALLY IS IT GOD?

because i tried so hard to hear this 'answer' that never came. so i made a decision. and now i feel scared to death and like he isn't taking care of me.

i just effing need to be taken care of. because i can't take care of myself.

i believe that God doesn't answer you sometimes. most of the time. i am just so angry and hateful towards the people who say they answer him. what's wrong with me then?

that's all i want. peace.

that the money and the distance and the pure hardness is going to be worth it. but what i get literally wanting to throw-up after hours of dwelling on it.

and i hate myself for this. everyone's problems are so huge. a million times more heartbreaking and awful.  and i'm still here pissed at God over such a dumb thing. aw

i know it's a symptom.

the disease is my relationship with God.

i need to figure this God thing out. i just don't know how. and i don't want those stupid 1,2,3 step by step Christian books or his stupid statements about what i believe and everyone's stupid answers.

i need a hug.

the answer is just to tell God. so i'm trying. i've been telling. and asking.

i need a huge from jesus. and i'm not getting one.

that's so dumb. a hug from JESUS? seriously. seriously.