A Whole Lot of Talking About Self-Directed Lifestyle

I'm alone in my house today.

After this trip, being back in old haunts is bringing up a lot. I have lists and plans. I have resources and time to make it happen, but I feel as though I'm reaching around in the dark, with a tiny candle to see in front of me, and I carefully take a step at a time. 

Everything I've done, up to this point, has given me the tools, the perspectives, and the relationships in order to help me move forward. I've spent time alone before. I've traveled a lot. I've observed different lifestyles. And now, after having been with Classroom Alive, I've learned what it means to structure a lifestyle in a way that comes from my heart. I think this is what it means to live creatively--without a template, but being able to draw from my own resources to make something new, something that looks like me.

As I sit in my mom's house today, I'm being confronted with a lot of old fears and insecurities. There's a lot of difficult memories. When I'm alone here, in the middle of the day, I have a scary feeling of not existing, as though the world is going on somewhere else, and I'm sitting here, wasting away. I don't trust myself.

When I was doing yoga this morning, I got a sense of having a structure inside of me, and not having to rely on structures that already exist in the world. I texted my friend Ava right after, telling her that I think I'm afraid of my own power. Any sort of wavering or sadness or indecision makes us think that we can't also be powerful. But what if I embrace the not-knowing, and still forge ahead with the knowledge that I'm doing what I feel called to do. I will make mistakes, but that's part of taking risks. 

I think it's incredibly powerful to be able to create my own structure. When I am able to see that everything in the world is constructed-time, money, work, communities, society, culture, our image of ourselves, mealtimes, manners, laws- all made so humans can flourish, then I'm also able to see that I'm a vital part of that. I have a role in creating it. Instead of feeling oppressed by structures, I can use them to my advantage. I can see the tools, resources, people around me, and I can apply my dreams to them.

Classroom Alive gave me this energy to be able to move through the world as if I was swimming. Pursuing my own interests and passions, seeking out what I need, and maintaining a structure in the middle of uncertainty and unknown obstacles.

My energy changes during the day. I can structure my life around that energy. When I need people. When I need to be alone. When I need to make messes, when I need to clean up. When I need to curl into a ball in a pile of blankets. When I need to dance and run. When I need to talk. When I need to write. When I need to draw. When I need to take in inspiration. When I need to read poetry. When I need to pray. When I need to sing. When I need to learn. When I need to express. When I need to ask. When I need to be in touch with my needs.

The upcoming month in Alaska brings a lot of uncertainty with it. It's easy for me to fall into bad feelings--that I'm 23, that I'm living with my mom, that I don't have an income. It's really easy to see my life in terms of what it's lacking, instead of what is there. It's easy for me to feel lonely, and to need to have some outward security, instead of seeing the friends that are around me. It's true that I always have what I need, I just have to open my eyes to it, and to know how to ask for it, and to use it when it's there. It's exciting, that I have this time to plan, structure, set intentions of what I want to learn, skills I want to gain, people I want to meet, learnings I need to seek out, places I need to go, and ways that I can do it.

I set aside this morning as a time to create structure for the next month. So, first of all, I'll begin to list my goals, which I'll put in a few categories.

Harvesting ClassroomAlive

In order to process what I learned, I intend to write a thesis paper of my experience. I want to incorporate the books that I read, the ideas, the discussions, as well as the traveling, the people I met, living in community, and other learnings I gained. This lets me see what skills I gained during the trip that can help me as I go forward into the unknown. It's to help me see what I'm looking for, what my motivation is in everything I'm pursuing, and give me clues as to where to look next. I want to structure time to write, allow myself to process, remember, and be transformed by the act of writing.

Writing Comics

Closely tied with this is involving myself in the comic-world. I wanted to turn my thesis paper into a comic, which might expand to a larger narrative. My style isn't necessarily "comicky," but I'd like to begin to marry my interest in comics with my love of drawing characters, and of my obsession with writing, observing how people work, and forming and understand of the world through doing this. I want to spend time reading comics and copying styles, as well as practicing different ways of rendering characters and stories in a way that feels satisfying to me. This will take time just to practice, play, be curios, and allow nothing to happen except pursue a love of comics and telling stories and remembering things. 

Being Involved in the Community

                Being involved with the Alaskan community has become something that's important to me, that was never important before. I've only seen this community in terms of what it lacks, and pushed it away forcefully. This has made me extremely disconnected from my roots. I've never appreciated the significance of this community in this specific place. I want to become more involved. Some things that I need are here. Some things aren't. It's up to me to find what these things are. 
                  I'm also interested in how I can bring more of what I want to this community. Arts, events, conversation about issues, a creative place. An art house? I want to read the local paper events, and have conversations about political issues, resources, how we survive in this area, and what people are thinking about. I want to find the gems that are already here: the arts, the support, the events, the schools, and the programs that I can become involved in. I want to volunteer, or find a job somewhere. 
                On a broader level, I want to read more online news and find reliable sources to check regularly in order to have more awareness of whats happening outside of my immediate surroundings. 
     

Planning Ahead

                        To dream. To turn those dreams to plans. To research places, people, organizations, collectives, and schools that I'd like to seek out. What does Alaska give me? What else do I need to learn, and where can I find it? It means recognizing pain and confusion as unmet needs. It means getting in touch with what's important to me. It means gaining confidence and strength. It means exploring the spiritual aspects of my life. It means looking at how spirituality and art and lifestyle are closely related. It means making a structure of the next year, the next five years, the next ten years. It means calendars. It means looking at housing in Portland. 

Studying

                      Another source of strength is continuing to pursue my questions. Learning self-directed study methods and finding online communities can help this. This also means looking for  study groups I'd like to join in the future in Portland and Bellingham. I'd like to structure time for reading books and articles, making lists to see where they're leading, how they're related to my lifestyle. 
                     To begin a rough sketch, they'll involve spirituality, art, community-living, anthroposophy, education, perception, materialism, consumer-culture, nature, poetry. 
                     This also involves the time to check in with the Classroom Alive study group, and Skype with them.

Time to Play

                      Structured play. My sewing machine is set up with nice light. My mom has a pottery studio. In clay and fabric, as if I was a little girl who had never gone to art school and could approach it with curiosity and love. 

Exercising My Body

                Mostly in the form of walking, skiing, and yoga.

Being with Friends

                              Exploring what it means to be in relationship. Meeting people for coffee and talking. Writing letters and postcards and emails. Skyping. This means making film night dates and dinner plans. This means skiing together. This means asking people to go get beers at Taproot and seeing live music. This means going out to the theater, or other events together. Cuddling. 

Caring for Myself

                           Time devoted to giving myself a firm base. Making sure I have the tools I need, like a computer, a camera, and art supplies to complete the projects I'd like to do. Caring for my body and having time to meditate that check in with myself. Creating an image that feels like me. Spending time looking for clothes, and underwear, and a pair of glasses. Preparing good food and eating it with appreciation.

      *             *             *

I'm looking at the bubble of goals I made on a piece of paper, and I think this covers most of what I wrote down.

The next step is to flesh out, with a calendar, times that I'll actually do these things. It will be an ever-moving process, as I learn about events and make dates with people and find a balance of being with people and being alone. It means finding the times of day that I do these things best, and also creating timelines for myself to accomplish these things for the empowerment of just doing them.

It's a good feeling, to sit here and write these out. It feels like play, like life isn't really real, and that I'm five years old again, and can just explore what it is that I can do with my wild and precious life.

What I've Learned From Walking

Where to begin?

Classroom Alive has finished it's movement. I've been walking and hitchhiking with 11 people for the last 2 months and 3 weeks. Yesterday we walked all the way into the city, and saw the city from the top of the hill. I'm in Athens! I'm in Greece!

I'm ready for what's coming next. I feel like I've been re-set after living in a tent for this long, and have a different perspective on things. On myself. On people. On culture. I feel ready to find my place in the world.

A drawing of me by Berkeley Oceguera, my dear friend.

I'm thinking a lot about fine art and social practice. I just read an email of the same filmmaker who made the Welcoming Committee,  and he said that he saw social practice as "just living." I think I've known this, but made it larger in my head. Art. ART.

I'm devoting a lot of time for just learning, and letting go of expectations and judgements about what I think I should be doing,
I want to read John Cage, and more about contemporary art.
I'm interested in dance, too.
I'd like to be more confidant,

We were walking and my stomach was hanging over the waist straps of my backpack. I thought of what Mathijs said to me, that no one should oppress themselves, and I thought, "insecurity ends here, with me." And I felt proud of my body.

When I said I was always so quiet because I was afraid of not quite saying what I meant, he said I couldn't find out what I meant in less I say the wrong thing first. Basically, try. Keep trying.

I've been feeling transparent because I don't have any projects of my own, no way to relate to my life in the world. I'm always afraid of asking for what I want, or even knowing what I want, and I think this is the most important thing for everyone. To find out.

It's up to me to structure my life in a way that fulfills me. Right now, I chose to be in an apartment with 11 people in Athens, in an empty afternoon, talking about how to budget our money, and what to cook, and how to harvest our studies. I choose to fly back to Alaska, and then to move to Portland, OR again.

I'm also okay with not knowing, right now. I know I've learned how to just live, and I feel like I can build on that. I feel the desire to work, and to keep learning. I don't have to produce anything, or express anything right now. But I do feel a desire to have an 'inquiry' practice, a way to go through what's going on in me. It doesn't have to take the same form, all of the time. I don't know what form it takes. I do crave feeling playful and stimulated. I crave feeling safe and loved and expansive. I do crave having assignments and suggestions and ideas. I'm not alone in this.

Reasons I Should Be Yipped

The Youth Initiative Program is a year-long, community-housed, confidence-building burst of inspiration and motivation in Jarna, Sweden. Yesterday, Manich spent all morning convincing me why I should go.
He made a few points about "yippies":
Instead of seeing a lack if resources or possibilties, they see what they have.
They are like a world-wide family.
They've learned how to reach out to find what they need.
They want to make the world a better place.
They care about how they show up in the world.

I don't know if it's where I should go. Every spring, there's an Initiative Forum, a week of speakers and meals full of inspiration about how to start projects and how to create.
Even if I don't go, it makes me think how I can incorporate this into my life.

Mathijs and Caleb we're discussing what a continuation of Classroom Alive would look like. They talked about how to structure a curriculum, whether it would be in one place or in many places, whether the students would travel to different teachers, whether they would stay together the whole time or only for 6-months at a time. While we hitch-hiked this morning, Mathijs and I continued talking about it. Why is it that we want to create something like this? A supportive community? To have a group who wants to see how their learning relates to their lives and the world, instead of just preparing them for the labor market? It isn't so much a commune as a shared studio space, a shared learning space, and either could be a set curriculum for a few years, with specific goals, or a student collective with continuing support for everyone in each step, and a chance to tach each other.

When we were at the Livig Wholeness Institute, Clare said to me that when she returned from her year of traveling to interview social entrepreneurs, she began to seek out people that she wanted to spend time wth. As we drove crazy-fast on windy roads, as the driver smoked weed and rolled a cigarete in his lap, answered his cell phone and listened to techno-pop-crazy music, all with a tiny puppy in a cardboard box by Mathijs' feet, (!) I thought about all the people close to me, and what brings us together. With all of them, we're interested in how we can be more free, or more of ourselves, or live passionately, despite what the world has shown us is possible. There's something in me that believes and lives for this, even though I have surface-y fears and doubts.

I think everything has led me up to this point, and I don't know what's next, but I believe in my interests of a compassionate place in the world, to learn and create and be myself. I know it's missing in my life, and if I can find a way to bring it, I believe it is a need for others.

I want to learn more from places like YIP. There's a few names, Deborah Freize, Orland Bishop, Alan Watts and Alan Webb, and Edgard Gouveah. They talk about education, or how to start new things in the world, or how to start even if you don't have enough money, or support.

I listened to a podcast with Eve Ensler yesterday. She talked about how we are so obsessed with our bodies, but never really inhabit them. She also talked about how our lives are "precious only up to a point"- and our comforts are no more important than anyone else's. I think somehow I need to expand my fears beyond my own comfort. Mathijs said we find our identity in the things we work on. What if my "art" is where I find these meanings, these answers? And if ignite myself the compassionate space to have the questions, and to try and fail, and to learn (so I can be part of the world)?

And remember, there is plenty of time.

I'm not an artist, anymore.

I had a conversation yesterday that really turned everything on it's head, for me.

There's a few things I'd like to go into.
One, is group-living.
There's something about living with a group where there's no privacy, and you have to share everything, and every nice thing you have is divided into eleven parts.
Lunches have been really hard. There's stress, especially when we're hungry.
I thought I could hold on, because there's only another month left with the group, and then I'll be home. I have daydreams of my own meals again, and getting to eat in peace and quiet, or getting to eat as much as I need, as slowly as I want, etc, etc. But when I really think about it, I don't know if I've been happier, having space to eat alone.
I said that to Caleb, that I knew I could hold out, because I know it's going to end. He said something back that actually shamed me, he said he saw the point was that we could find a solution, as if it wasn't going to end, that we were actually going to try to solve what was going on now.
Maybe the solution isn't sharing everything, and being together all of the time. There's a reason that it's been a difficult thing for people for generations. In some cultures, the men eat first. In some cultures, the women eat first. There are social and cultural traditions around meals, there's manners, there's decorum. And I think this has been something that's always been difficult--so it's not like I want to ignore it, either. Maybe the solution is we share meals some of the time. Maybe we need to have space. But it's also important to ask why it's so difficult.
I've been wanting to write a big piece about this. About what it means to be around people, and why we choose to be around some people and not others. Certain people make us feel certain things, and when we're in a group, we are confronted with all these parts of ourselves, all of these mirrors, all at once. That's really difficult. There's a reason we separate into nuclear families, but that's also created a lot of isolation and difficulty, too. There's a reason I've always wanted to live in a group, and my daydreams about eating with large groups of people are so pressing on my mind.
I've been wanting to write about how confrontation has unraveled a lot of parts of me, too. I was thinking about it when we were sitting around, and I was feeling stress about being with everyone. I realized that a lot of my difficulties have also been released, too. There's something about pressing up against these difficulties with people that has also let something go, inside of me. I am less careful about what I eat, I don't judge it as much. I recognize the shame I've always had with eating, and how I've never wanted to take it upon myself to really feed myself, as if I mean it, as if I am important.

This also came up in a conversation that I had yesterday. Mathijs said that it seemed that whenever things get difficult, I always seem to want to hide myself. I said that I've always been overwhelmed by everything else that is going on in the world, and never able to take care of what I want, as if it's enough for me to just be alive.

This relates to the title of this post. Mathijs asked me if I feel like making art fulfills something in me. I actually didn't know. I don't know. I've always had this idea that I needed to make art, as if I need to prove something. And when I let that go, when I stop identifying with that, then I feel like something is lost, and it felt scary to let that go. When I think about a thesis year, I have an image of blank canvases with some sort of painting, some future project that makes sense, an ideal that would encompass whatever needs to come out when I spend a year contemplating life and producing something, but it never feels like me.

What if I let that go?
This is a really important issue to me.
I got an email from Blake Mason, a person that I met and really admire, who lives in an artist-collective house in Portland, and I met him when he was hosting movie nights in his backyard, and showed a film he made that I loved, The Welcoming Committee. He had found the Classroom Alive project, and was reading about my topic of study, and said it related to what he's been thinking about. He wrote his thesis about out-of-the-box art projects, and came upon Social Practice and fell in love with it.
There's something in me that is curious about social practice. I'm curious about what art means beyond fine art, and I'm curious about the idea that the audience can make anything a piece of art at will, just by changing their perception.
I talked with Mathijs about this yesterday, and he also expressed what I feel. That "art" isn't "art therapy." That there's something about "art" or "fine art" that involves doing things properly, with a respect for the craft, and you really have to devote yourself to it. You are searching for a new form, in order to change perception for everyone.

I was thinking about artists who have taken "art" to different levels, like Sophie Calle, or Marina Abromovic, and Ernesto Pujol.

This is a really rambling post, that I'm going to edit down so that it's actually readable. I know I get in these moods where I have so many questions, and I feel like I don't have enough time to figure them out, and the answer is somewhere outside of me. So I'll let that go.
But I do want to spend time just letting myself have this space, and not try to be anything.

This has brought up a new chapter for me, it feels like. I've always had an image of what it means to create something, and the pressure that I should be obsessed with some work. Sometimes, when I really have to admit it, I don't want to do anything. I want to read books and eat ice cream. Art feels like something outside of me, that I have to conform myself to. But if I go to the deepest parts of myself, any sort of project would really have to come out of the core of me. And I think, also, not be concerned with being ground-breaking, or being anything, but just being me.

Mathijs said I don't give myself credit for the things that I already do. I feel like I have to step away from expecting myself to be an artist. He said that baking bread really well is art, too. These are things I know, but also have this nagging that I want to know what it feels like to write a novel, even though I hate writing groups and bad manuscripts. Like I have to spend all day in a studio doing something, even though I hate being alone. Are these ways that I oppress myself? Do I know the answer, intuitively, about what I want to do in the world? Is that why I've been reading all of these books about freedom?

When I wrote about what I want to do, my answers were things like, have a clean, cozy home. Watch films and grow vegetables and keep chickens and read books about artists and take a sewing class. Why do I feel like art has to be something outside of me?

Living Wholeness

There's a month left with Classroom Alive.

There's two more weeks of walking.

I'm landed at the Living awhile ness Institute, near the east coast of Greece. It's run by Maria Scordialos, who has a Ted talk I'm meaning to watch later this afternoon. I've met Clare, who wrote a book called One Wild Life, about her time interviewing social entrepreneurs around the world. I've also met Vanessa, who does work with social architecture. Maria does work with the Art of Hosting, a process that I'm still learning about, that has to do with creating spaces for creative conversation. When I talked with her this morning, and I told her I was an art student, she told me about graphic facilitation, and it's got me thinking about roles of the artist (which was my original question to explore on coming on this trip.)

Something about being here has me really fired up about what's next. They mentioned being able to host a conversation with us about why we came, and what we hope to do next, and seeing their alternative careers gives me hope about my next steps. They're acting as a mirror for us to see how unusual this form of study is, and what it means to have students approach their learning in this way. I'm interested in what's alive in each of us that gave us the impulse to come on this trip in the first place. More specifically, what's alive in me that made me want to come on this trip? When I hear about more integrated learning centers, I feel very excited, about integrating the whole individual.


From here, I have a few thoughts. One of the girls in the group is writing a thesis about interviews she's doing with college-age students who have gone through Waldorf education, and how they differ from students from traditional schools. She asked me what I think I learned in high school, and it brought up a lot of thoughts in me. This relates really strongly to why I'm here. When I wrote my letter of intent, I said I was interested in taking part of an education that came out of a love of learning, and of being out of the regular classroom more in order to be outside, be walking, and be directing our own course of study. There's a few things that come up when I write this. I realize, looking back, that that's exactly what has happened in being here. The specificity of studying art gets lost in group process, in meetings, in planning the route, in figuring out how to live together, and share money, and share intentions. There's no structure in place, so we're creating our own, and that takes a huge form of the learning- and it's also tiring, and for me, quite overwhelming. Already, I've always had a huge difficulty staying focused and grounded, so moving to a new location twice a day, and trying to navigate 11 different emotions and voices all at once can leave me drained. But there's also been quite a difference from being in structured classes. There's more freedom of choice. There's nothing to push against. There's more responsibility for your actions. There's more awareness that everything we do is a choice. In the walking and camping, there's more satisfaction with simple things, and we have fallen into more natural rhythms of listening to our bodies. By subtracting Internet, and a lot of conveniences, our challenges are simpler, somehow, and don't give us the option to stay up all night, or overload with external pressures. This isn't to say there's no stress. Subtracting the Internet, and warmth, and personal space, basic stress comes up. But I feel as though I've had the chance to go back to the most basic parts of myself, like I'm resetting. I see how I am around other people, when I can't hide from them. I see how I react to difficulties, whether it's food or time or needing space or discerning what I want. I see things about myself very clearly, in the form of what I dream about, and what I miss. Without any authority, without paying rent or managing my own money, I have a larger perspective of what money means to me, and what it's like to not think about it. I see what I'm like, being taken away from everything I identify with, and then, because we're studying, my only direction is what I feel interested in, what I feel like I need to learn.

Regarding the things I miss. Every time we come into a city, we're bombarded by culture, by choices of food, by spending money, by clothing and awareness of hygiene, and the desire to sit in cafés. I feel like I have a better awareness of the roles these things have played in my life, and why I need them. I miss the choice to wear clothes that express me that day, or time in front of a mirror to arrange my appearance. I miss talking on the phone, and driving in cars, and bakeries, the radio, libraries and bookstores, reading blogs and watching movies. I also see how these things cause a lot of stress in our group, and how they've caused stress in my life. Insecurity of how I look. Comparing myself and my life to others. Being overcaffeinated. Picking up the pace of a city and feeling I'm not being productive enough. Moving faster. Paying bills. Being afraid of money, being afraid of structures that are already put in place.

So I come to where I'll go from here. I won't remain sleeping in a tent and walking to a new place every day. I'll pay rent again. I'll have my cell phone re-activated. I'll drive a car again. But there's something about being able to see myself away from these things in order to go back to them, and use them to express myself as a creative person in the world. Instead of being controlled by culture, I can take a part of it freely. In terms of school, I can go into a school system as a whole human being. This is where I get a little lost, and feel like I need guidance from people who have started programs and businesses and schools that are unusual. About what it means to get a bachelors degree at an art and craft school in 2013, and pursue a lifestyle out of strength and passion.

So: content-wise, I can go a little bit into what I've been reading and thinking about. I began by reading The Dialectic of Freedom, by Maxine Greene, Art As Experience, by John Dewey, Teaching to Transgress; Educaton as a Practice of Freedom, by bell hooks. I've also read The Philosophy of Freedom, by Rudolph Steiner, Walking With Your Time, by Christine Gruwez, and I've begun reading The Archeology of Knowledge, by. Michel Foucault. A lot of themes that appear are what freedom means, whether we are free as individuals, how realizing our subjectivity shows us how we look at the world, so the way we relate to it can be a choice, and how to relate to the time we're living in as self-actual used individuals, instead of being overwhelmed, by being mechanical.

I might be getting a little general, but it's important to get this all down.

So, when I think of moving forward from here, it's a huge question for me how having a training from a craft school relates to these ideas, and how they can a) help me as an individual so that b) I can relate to the world.

And then there's also the things I've learned about community life, in being here. We have practices of checking in regularly, and holding meetings together, where we work to solve issues together. I've seen how we bring each other to better clarity through interacting and sharing our interests and needs. Clare is one of the people who started the Hedge School Projects, which put on events in socially-charged places around Ireland, where artists and musicians collaborate with speakers about all sorts of topics, and it's a place to come together and learn and talk about what's going on for everybody. This makes me think about how to be involved with our communities in a way we feel like we are free in the world, and have a say, and are able to create.

I don't think I'm an activist. I don't like organizing people. I get overwhelmed by crowds. This sort of community-art isn't really why I'm going to art school, at all. I don't want to paint murals together. I like "fine art," I like galleries. But there's something about the women I just met that have me thinking about this. I realized I also want to learn about everything I don't understand about the world I'm in- about the economy and money systems, about debt, about what living together and sharing resources means, about our energy usage and our different cultures, about how we relate to our bodies, and to food, and to time. I don't know what it means for me to go into these things (because I know that an arts degree related to these things) if I don't know how I'll bring it into the community. I don't want to be on Skype calls all day long, like these women, or necessarily hold retreats about yoga and writing, or anything. This is where I don't know.

There's books on the bookshelf here that have my mind whirring. There's more about Buddhism, and how we relate to nature, there's a book about American Indians, and about the goddess mythologies, and Biodynamic farming, and knitting patterns, and a couple of others. I think I'll write them down as possibilities of study, to somehow integrate them in.

I feel really unsure about where this will lead me. My smallest dream is putting on the equivalent of Hedge Schools in Alaska, and starting a farm/studio space that events can be held at, or conferences. More basically, I dream of having a home again, and going to conferences, of having chickens and a garden and watching films and going to galleries and cooking again, and buying a little car or truck and drinking good coffee and talking to people a lot and wearing clothes I like. Somehow, comics relate to this, too, and writing.

That's where I'm coming from, now. I need courage.

A quick link to remind myself of Ava's blog:

http://warierpigeons.wordpress.com/2013/09/18/wednesday-word-of-the-week/

This is my first blog post from an iPhone while traveling. I'm thinking about living in a group, and how I saw this before. I am learning different things than I thought I would learn.

I have the hardest time writing emails to everyone, because I haven't been able to process it myself. And it feels exhausting.

I want to read and study and make art. I feel frustrated about all the hullabaloo all of the time.
I am a quiet person in a group.
Jesse said I am a human animal.
I am all that I love.
A small pink window. A line of poetry. Sparkly eyes.
How fingertips feel on my leg. The crying I feel when someone leaves.
The crying I feel when Ava emails me. The excitement I feel when
I read the comic Ava wrote.

I am not learning what I thought. I already said this.
There is less art, or maybe it is more.
Actually, I think this is exactly what I needed.
The wisdom of the world.

The group, and me included, are heading into the Bulgarian mountains.

We are walking to Greece. I want to learn Greek.
I am also in love with how things like Facebook make me love things more.

I am seeing how I am most important, hi Walt Whitman, how the important things
are difficult, and how there is a me behind them.

I also see how I like living in a nice place, I like going to get coffee,
I like breakfast nooks, I like bookstores, I am a certain type.

It occurred to me to keep a blog of how my 'self-directed' learning journey is going. This is a place to keep track of what I've been learning and experiencing, actions I've been taking, and goals that I have. This is also to keep track of the fluxuations between every day, in order to keep me grounded. This is also a place to show whatever comes out of my making, whether it's writing, or painting, or knitting, or building, or baking. It's a place to keep track of myself.

Right now, while I'm traveling, I'll have a harder time keeping this updated. For now, I can at least go into the questions that are going on for me right now. So I will begin, right here and now.

all I know is this

I know that art is a way to let feelings overtake you.

I know that the feelings I have aren't mine alone.

I know that I'm going to die.

I know that being outside makes me feel simple.

I know that I don't want to own a lot of things.

I know that I can't keep anything straight.

I know that things are changing quickly and I don't feel the need to worry.

It's also hard not to worry.

I want to pay attention.

I don't quite know how at the moment.

On prayer.

I have a lot of revelations while both cleaning houses, and bicycling.

I have decided that I can choose, and that nobody really ever knows what their doing.

That art and stories and myths show us the Holy Thing thats behind everything.

And that everyone is an "artist."

That I can ask for money, and resources, because I'm part of it.

That this is MY summer. My friends. My body. My hair. My curiosity. My family. My world.

I keep asking, should I stay in school? Should I go to South America? Should I move back to Alaska? Should I eat a peach? Maybe I can just let the questions be, and do the next thing right now. Read. Listen. Keep painting. Keep talking. Keep dreaming. Keep sleeping. Keep loving.

I called out to Ceci from cleaning the sink, but she didn't hear me. I wanted to say, "Ceci? We're going to die someday."

on goals and stuff

Today, I'll write some letters and read Moby Dick until finished, and I'll think about paintings and other things that I like to do at night.

I think I want to start a new painting, for no other reason than it makes me feel alive.

July third

Making a million plans/
and poetry that doesn't make sense
and classes and the Be Good Tanjas and smoothies
and actually buying tickets or just smiling or, you know, not.

It's hard for me to make decisive steps when I feel like there's a million things.
I was watching the Power of Myth and it was pretty cool.
About everyone having trials and some things feeling good and others not.
And doing things about it.

I've been reading Steiner, too, about education and things.
And Moby Dick, too.

I'm keeping a running account of myself, here.

I think we're so much bigger when we realize our place in the middle of everything.
Sorry if this is so scrambled, but my brain is so scrambled, and certain things are making me feel better.
It's when competition goes away, because we can all make each other better. We can all be so much more love for everyone.

ice cream, Rudolph Steiner, and absolute confusion.

Oh, and writing letters to past lovers.

today:

>>overwhelm<<

About being alone.
About being with people.
About inescapable loneliness.
About focusing.
About making decisions.
About losing things.
About going to school part-time versus full-time.
About KNOWING.
About finding yourself.
About finding what makes you happy.
About breathing.


Reading old journal? And playing Sia? Is making me not afraid.
I am a small portland (i meant portal) into the large universe.

Reading old journals brings out this part of me.

let's talk about anxiety, please

I'd like to start looking into naturopathic/yoga/artistic solutions to extreme depression.

The most I've felt empowered is reading Krishnamurti: that your anxiety shows everyone's anxiety.

The whole "journey" archetype: going through struggles in order to become stronger. The hardest thing in my life is the panic and immobility I get from sadness, loneliness, and anxiousness. The feeling that I want to die, that I hate myself, that there's so many bigger, better things I could be doing, that I don't appreciate my life, that nobody loves me, that I'm a burden on everybody.

I used to have an eating disorder, and now I have this. I believe that I can change, and that I'm learning to use tools in order to change.

I've been thinking about this for my thesis project, about creating spaces for students (artistic or otherwise) where we use tools in order to heal these people and make them powerful members of the world. I can't travel, I can't make art, I can't make a family, I can't make friends, until I step through this hoop, too.

question: sex?

Um,
why are there so many bisexual women in my life?
Marina Abromovic comes to mind.
Is the best part of sex the sex? Is it the telling about it, afterward?
Is it the being with the person? Can I have wonderful sex that means nothing?
What is it culturally that I know about sex?
How is it related to how much water I drink, and how I eat, and how I hold my body, and how I trust myself?
And whether being out at night is a thing, or the bluegrass, or driving in a car...

Art and the quest for the TRUE SELF.

Things that make me feel like a person: doing yoga.

And how Rudolf Steiner talks about our place in the world?

How a lot of art is about Expressing Yourself, when I was born out of the world,
things that make me happy dont make everyone happy

the art of BECOMING.
of using tools:
nature
schools
people
materials
time
money

to find out what it is you should do and then do it.

To find out what it is you are afraid of and become it.

It's like, there's nowhere to go, but then there's also a direction.

You know?

There are things that I like to do more than other things.
I'm thinking about moving schools, because I want art school to be more of a thing about solving how I feel about life.

I'm thinking about time a lot. About this imaginary man pressing down on me.
I'm thinking abou writing and gardening, too. About weaving and quilting.

About how I felt reading the beginning of David Sedaris's new book.

About how I felt walking into the art galleries downtown yesterday.

About how talking to people isn't what I think it is?

Reading:
Teaching As A Subversive Activity

Looking:
At the Bennington College's MFA Program in Writing

Blogs:
Jason Sturgill
OKBB
It's Nice That

today's questions

Joseph Campbell.
Krishnamurti.
Yaddo/Iowa Writer's Workshop.
Ann Patchett.
Alaska.

Using art to get yourself out of whatever box you find yourself in.
Non-violent communication.
Life as a whole.
Tinhouse. Poetry Review.

Having schedules.
FUTILITY OF ALL ACTION IS MAYBE FREEDOM!! [love]

Selfishness of artists/domesticity

Making goals vs. NOT BEING EFFICIENT.

That's my whole brain today, pumpkin. Have fun!

My little family as my gifts. My littleness. Little Robin.
Oh, and the importance of research and reading and stuff. Lah dee dah dee dah.

The importance of dreams. Wooden boats.

Questions of the day:

Why am I so impatient?

Should I stay in art school?

What makes me excited?

Well, my teeth hurt.

and I don't know what I want to do.

And I'm not looking at the keyboard as I'm tayping this.

And I want everybody in the world to know my name.

And I'm all ideas in my head while the wind is blowing

and I hear the recycling truck dump cans into their truck

And I'm not looking back

and I'm frustrated with uncreative writing

and I want someone to hug me

and my knees hurt

and I'm imagining not putting together my prints for the show

and I want to live in a tiny village or something

or have a truck

and I burped and imagined mara heard it in her bed and was annoyed with how frustrating I am

and I'm picking at my skin

I'm overwhelmed by the amount of everything in the world.

All I am doing is eating in bed and reading websites and thinking too much.

Good thing I can't do it all/what can I do?

nothing's really happening

You choose, it's your adventure.