accidental flares of love burst through the atmosphere

The bourbon, the 7am, the colors

I seem to be at a point in my life where I am turned on (artistically) 24 hours a day. Mothers often look back on the beginning of their child's life and say that they truly don't know how they juggled a baby and a job and all the other things that pop up, but when we find ourselves in situations like that, we automatically pull from a little pot of excess energy that we've stored for years, waiting for the perfect rainy day (or year) to spend it. I design when I'm at work and I design when I'm not at work, and even when I'm not designing I'm usually thinking about it in some way. Even when it's just asking someone to explain broken crosses or upside down crosses to me.

I had my first panic attack in early 2010; it landed me in the ER thinking that I was dying as all my muscles locked up from hyperventilation and probably scared the bajeezus out of Mike Cooper, who had to give up our plans of seeing Conan O'Brien do standup to drive me to Cedars-Sinai and watch me try to sign all of my paperwork with a very shaky curled-up hand. It was that day that a very artistic friend told me that when he's stressed out, he focuses on color.

It's very hard to do, but if I have just the right kind of focus I can pull it off. I remove shapes, shades, context, everything...until I can ONLY see the colors around me, and for some reason I feel my stress instantly disappear.

Maybe it's because I surround myself with the colors that make me feel the happiest: grass green and warm pinks, usually. And it's quite obvious that those are the colors that do it for me; look at the Color board that I've been pinning on! My choices are hilariously predictable:



My point is this: I've somehow found my thing. The thing that calms me down and also seems to turn me on. I can look at anything and strip it down until it's only a color. People, even! Some people seem to be colors to me. Maybe it's got something to do with being synesthetic.

I am single. I've been single for a while, but haven't posted about it or written about it because I've felt strange about doing so, and plus it's frankly no one else's goddamn business. BV is a wonderful person and I have no doubt that we'll be friends for the rest of our lives, but we just weren't a good romantic match. It was a beautiful 2.5ish - 3ish years but it became obvious that we were holding each other back from being the people that we enjoy being. I feel sad about it, really really sad. But even within that sadness I understand how necessary it was. I suppose the lack of relationship has been motivating me too. I wasn't creatively stifled before, but when I suddenly find myself with no obligations, the world becomes a bit brighter and more colorful. Plus I guess I just really need the distraction of throwing myself into work. So what do I do? I just move on. And I am.

All I know is that I am so relieved and grateful to have a friend like Cindy, who will do anything with me and make it fun, and will even prevent me from feeling bad when I get stupid that-wasn't-meant-for-you text messages in Target while buying bulk Friskies for some stray kittens. Good friends are so rare.

This is what I'm listening to tonight. If you like the song, there's a previously unreleased live version that he put out in 2006 here, it blew my fucking mind.


It's hard for me to find a way
to get through another city day
without thinking about
getting out

The free manicures, the guessing, the peonies

The snow, the tattoo, the observation deck