things that await

Schedule Update:

Tomorrow--breakfast with Kay, packing everything into boxes, driving lessons with A.
Monday--moving everything into new apartment, meeting with new subletter (a German grad student, who will also be living with me in the new place for a week before I leave, which will be probably Thursday/Friday [in my new old Saturn, the stick shift I have yet to drive, holy Jesus])

I said goodbye to T. today. He is leaving in the early AM of tomorrow for D.C., and it makes me very sad. I have grown even closer to the boy over the past several months, and being apart for him for another whole summer is not a prospect I like. I feel that as I grow older, somehow, my ability to miss people--my vulnerability--strengthens greatly. I miss people more than I used to.

We had a conversation last night that had an interesting impact. It was divided into a reflection on our parents and impacts of where we came from, a sad and scary surveillance of the uncomfortable fact that we are now fourth years (and everything that attends that, from the identity crises that have slowly been building this year to the fact that soon we'll be freed from the nest), and finally a reflection on what we know we want. I talked a bit about something I've been experiencing a lot lately, and not at all reflecting on, which is, briefly, the fact that I've felt my identity confused and wrenched between the (capital-A) Academic and the creative. It always seems that only one or the other is possible and I choose the academy to the detriment of the creative--or really, my personality in general. Without having my creative outlets--in constantly pushing them away--my confidence takes a serious hit. Recently, even my academic performance has suffered and as a result my self-esteem is shot.

ANYWAY, we had a conversation musing on this, and I talked about needing to embrace what I always force to the background (creative writing, reading novels) in order to better get a grip on myself, to the point where a bad grade won't be shattering to my sense of identity, as it is now. I talked about needing a serious summer reading list, and wanting to maintain self-discipline, and wanting to re-inspire creativity (with thoughts toward high school, when I wrote all the time, and while 90% of it was crap, some of it was actually decent, and more than that it was creative).

I have been trying to think of a way to emulate that art/life project I've been inspired and fascinated by (mentioned some posts earlier), and T. recommended new ways of writing based on medium. Writing by pen on lined paper, pencil on lined paper, pen on blank paper, pencil on blank paper, in paint, on walls, etc. In this way I'd better understand what medium feels most natural to me and how different mediums effect my style and thinking process. I was attracted to the idea, and I think I will soon put it into effect. As of now, things are chaotic and yet not so. I have time. Today T. and I lay on my bed in a pile of shirts and newspapers (vestiges of packing) and worked our way through my Teach Yourself German book for three chapters. I tried it out on my mom on the phone tonight: "Ich komme aus Michigan!"

So this is what my summer may hold: less internet, more cooking, more novels, more writing, more writing mediums, and who knows what else. Oh, probably high-quality lemonade. I believe the Bed & Breakfast at which I will be living will have a wrap-around porch, and there's simply no way I will not be sitting on that porch, reading novels until the fireflies start to light up, with a glass of homemade lemonade in my hand.