slightly mediocre

My family isn't particularly religious, so we don't throw a huge hurrah when Christmas rolls around. Today has been largely disappointing. Most of the week I worked myself up to be excited because it's Christmas and tis the season, etc. Working every second day and spending the days in between with people turned out to be just the right balance, and even if I could've done with a bit more time to do my own thing it was going so well. Today though, my mood peaked about 2 hrs after waking up and has been noticeably declining since. 

The past 8 hours has been mostly me overeating alone (re-enter: ice cream phase) and trying to paint Wendy's Christmas peacock. I don't feel the energy to draw though and I've noticed the declining quality of my animals since the squirrel, which is somewhat upsetting and demotivating. Photos of friends/families are flooding FB and I am definitely feeling a pang of jealousy; my family is probably incapable of ever having something like that. This unit has been rapidly disintegrating and is now beyond redemption.

There are 3 hours left of today and I will do something

\(^__^)/ honi soit

2013 playlist

shits n gigs. soundtrack of the year by month, fddf ed.

not having work is not the same as not having worth. There is a person underneath all the things we find to kill time, and is measured by what we can do in our own eyes. personal achievements vs. achievement in the public eye. someone that is entirely potential; tapped and untapped. a shift in focus. what we can do vs. what we do for a living vs. what we do to help others live vs. what we do to feel alive. this self does not include the people around us. minds are islands and there are no bridges. we  are influenced by people but we are limited by our own empathy and experiences. each person is their own self.

Doing something for a living takes such precedence. I'm stuck in a rut where it feels like there isn't enough time for everything, except now there isn't much time at work and it's making me feel as though I've got nothing to fall back on. Right now though I've just got to remember that my work isn't me anyway and that there are the other aspects that I can work on with the extra time. I've tied too much of myself to what I am able to do in financial comfort, and losing a few shifts isn't going to throw me to the sharks.

Reassurance.

It has spurred me to find work that I am happy doing. What we do for a living doesn't have to be separate from what we do to feel alive. There are people fortunate enough to have found a middle ground - though no doubt it would've been a combination of fortune and ridiculous hard work. Something for me to work towards.

This post is not guaranteed to make sense.

aimy has a productive day

bastard child of jules de balincourt and andrew hem

Today has been remarkably productive and I am proud of myself. Though it's late and work is early tomorrow, I feel it necessary to record this elation before it gets lost in the momentum of every day hum drum. What I did today:

- finished Zen + Art. I'm unsure of what to make of the ending, I definitely have to read over it again. Sometimes I felt like it was hitting the nail on the head with certain topics but other times RP drew such strange conclusions out of what felt like abstraction. It definitely left me in a contemplative state though. Good read. 

- applied for a job. 

- finally dropped by TC to help out. I got to meet some lovely ladies who ran the shop, and they taught me a few things before we ended up just chatting and getting to know each other. So charming. K is adorable and N is a cool mum. I went to the toy shop and then the bakery (I bought a cinnamon scroll) and then rode my bike home. 

- started a painting. I liked how it looked but it wasn't how it looked in my dream. Still going. 

- joined le gym! went rowing! cross trainer! machines! lifting things! 

oh today was good. 

if only i could drop the unrelenting burden of doubt, which has been robbing me of sleep and stealing enjoyment from my day. It's a constant, undulating sadness. I've almost completely accepted my fate re: 2821 but I'm still deciding what my plan of action will be for that as well as other things. I'll find the courage to check soon. 

hobutt, tas

mt wellington

What a reprieve. I arrived with minimal expectations and hoped just to enjoy a few days away and Hobart was the perfectly slow-paced, small-big town that insisted on kicking back and taking it easy. 

The airport looked like a farm, the city sat between mountains and a river, and even the sea gulls outside the fish and chip joints were mostly chill. We took the ferry to MONA and a bus up Mt Wellington. Both were so fantastic. MONA was confronting and even frightening sometimes. There was an installation where you entered a series of chambers set inside each other, getting smaller and smaller. The walls were low lit from the ground and binary code spelt some ancient text + ominous English words. In the smallest chamber on the ceiling there was a mirror, and that was when I screamed like a little bitch. Regardless, I thoroughly enjoyed that one. And most of them. The ride up to the pinnacle of Mt. Wellington was quite pleasant. The bus driver was so amicable and though there was a lot of cloud cover at first, it did clear up a little. You could only just see the city peeking through the thick cloud, but I think I'd have preferred it that way anyway. Against the strange plants of the mountainside, the clouds made Mt Wellington look even more alien. Shrubbery was dense with thick, heavy leaves all clustered together to withstand the wind. Rocks were spotted with lichen and in some areas, smoothly cut as if a side of the mountain had just risen and left the rest behind. It was breathtaking. Painfully cold, because we were dumb enough to forget our jackets, but we got used to the wind after a while. It was so amazing. 

The rest of our time was divided between sleeping (I hadn't slept so much in so long), eating fish and chips and pie, and walking through the grid map streets of the city. We made our way through Salamanca Place, Battery point and found old Georgian buildings and newish weatherboard houses. It was a beautiful manifestation of the changing culture throughout the history of the town. Old buildings were repurposed into new spaces for offices and restaurants without losing the old charm. Everything was so peaceful and so were the people. Everyone also owns vintage cars and motorbikes apparently.

I was definitely sad to leave. I guess I'm glad that I'm now much more calm and relaxed compared to before, but returning from the peacefulness of Hobart feels like being forced out of the comfort and security of my warm bed, into an unwelcoming morning. Knowing that I have to inevitably deal with things once we got back put a damper on my spirit, but I feel a bit more ready to face whatever may happen.