Leap Day

An extra 24 hours. Or 1,440 minutes. Or 86,400 seconds.

What to do...

It was so windy today.

I park at the Civic Center every day and walk to work. When I usually come out of the building where I park, I see the coffee cart, notice how long the line is and wonder what everyone is ordering. As I passed by the coffee cart onto the walkway surrounded by a couple of big, beautiful trees, I thought about how I should avoid the puddle (that seems to form on rainy days) in the middle of the courtyard. Right after I walked by the trees, I heard a crackling sound, turned around and saw a huge branch snap off. The entire walkway was covered by the branch and its leaves. People around me started freaking out, asked me if I was okay and whether anyone was under the branches. No one was.

As I looked back, all I could see was me crushed under the tree. It was truly only a matter of seconds. That thought freaked me out and I pretty much ran away from the place. I was in a funk all day. I kept looking up in fear at every tree I walked by. I love trees. I felt sad that I feared them today.

"The tree waited for you because it saw something in you," explained JJ. I told him trees can't see.

My Nightstand

is very cluttered. I'm usually quite obsessive about simplifying/organizing things (e.g. important documents, socks, pictures, etc.), but when it comes to my nightstand, I can't seem to simplify. I actually took a couple of candles and one jewelry box off the nightstand in an attempt to create more space, but I quickly filled up that space with who-knows-what. My new thing is creating little piles, instead of scattering everything. I suppose that's better.

The clutter that is my nightstand:

• mirror,
• small heart (Andrea made for me),
• glasses,
  
• necklace box,
• two smaller jewelry boxes,
  
• three candles,
• a glass spoon where I put my rings,
• a lid,
• laptop remote control,
• hair tie,
• antibiotic ointment for my scars,
• doxylamine succinate,
• small bottle of perfume,
  
• eye mask,
• cup of water,
• clock.

I think it reflects the clutter in my mind.
I'm happy it's raining.
I believe it helps clear my mind.

My new roomie

for the rest of the week.

I'm house/dog sitting. Jack is an handsome old dog who moves slowly and is very set in his own ways. I really like him.

:(

Polaroid is shutting down. This news saddens me. What will I do without the instant gratification of seeing square versions of moments? Moments that can't be recreated or duplicated.

I need to stock up on film this year. I guess Fuji is still going to make film for instant cameras, but I've never seen them around.

Elxn Day!

I know it's only the primary election. But, any step towards change excites me.

Yes We Can

Robert Irwin's "Light and Space"

I spent my lunch break at MOCA today because I’m addicted to the exhibit above. I usually sit on the ground and simply stare. The piece takes me to another place where light transcends the limits of perception and all my useless thoughts. There are 115 fluorescent lights of varying sizes set in no noticeable pattern against a soothing light grey wall. When I first saw this, I tried really hard to look for a pattern in the design, but my brain started to hurt. As soon as I let go of trying to discover a pattern, the piece was both overwhelming and freeing. Soaking in the piece, I felt my breathing slow down. The sensory overload washed away all thoughts. I felt calm. There was order amidst the pattern-less, seemingly chaotic piece. Just perceiving the piece for what it was. It reminded me of a maze with no dead ends and I felt happy thinking of the possibilities.

Although there’s no symmetry, it looks perfectly balanced to me. This piece for me is a visual actualization of the sense and act of letting go.