This boy is discovering his meditations...

I think I just discovered meditation. For this world, it is nothing revolutionary; but for me it was amazing. It's my own brand of it though, something simple and deeply personal. And although it's been delivered through differing actions, it's something I've done all along. I guess I just never realized it for what it was.

Tonight, meditation was:
Carefully prepared baked ziti and a very good cup of homemade coffee. I sat in the comfy green recliner. And after finishing food and drink, I threw a blanket over myself, curled up, and shut my eyes. I didn't fall into sleep, but I wasn't awake either. My body, while completely at rest, freed my mind to walk around. It hasn't taken such a good walk in a long while.

I accomplished so much in that expanse of time. I now know what exactly my next desire is for art making... and I have regained an appreciation for those black and white dark room memories. The process of it all, that's what I love... guiding a piece, an idea, a visual or thoughtful delight; through layers of light and chemicals and magics; holding its hand until the very end, presenting it for all to see, and then letting it go. It's patience; it's intuition; it's parenting.

That's why a wonderful mentor, Keith Millman, told me over 3 years ago that "You're ready for kids, to be a parent, it shows in your work." Tonight, finally, I can see what he saw in me. That is so perfectly comforting and exciting.

And love and companionship, I thought about that too... on this subconscious journey. I discovered what I really desire in love, I realized why I wanted what I did and why other things were good but not right. And I now know exactly what I desire, and I can't wait, because I'll know it when I see it. It seems inevitable as if it were just as simple as a light switch, as if I'll run into her tomorrow and we'll get a cup of coffee or tea; but I know that although my desires are simple, there are no guarantees in life. Minor White died in old age in search of his life partner. His work was sensitive and beautiful in that sadness.

~

Oh, I have missed you delightful Focus... I enjoyed our time together, please return to me again soon.

This boy is a bit concerned about his soul vessel thingy...

After the whole Monday fainting episode, I just haven't felt the same. My face is still all sore-like and I've got this constant headache that flares up any time I eat anything harder than a banana. And at every moment I wanted to be happy and spend moments with friends, such an effort was made to stave off inevitable crankiness.

So now I'm taking it easy.

I have no desire to get on my bicycle right now. I've been taking the public transit for the past week, which is something I'll be getting more and more re-acquainted with as the snow starts up. Buffalo's metro leaves so much to be desired, especially in the suburbs where buses aren't ever on time. One saving grace: On Wednesday it was awesome to see all the urban school kids on the #32 talking about Obama-this and Obama-that... fantastic! I have so much hope for Obama.

This weekend I avoided fun. Besides volunteer SVAO-ing, fixing up western new york book arts new home on Saturday, I stayed home and made the room I sleep in comfortable enough to live and do work in. It's nice and cozy now. I've also been getting more sleep at "normal" times. This is all nice and relaxing but Ugh... I feel 20 years older than I should.

I guess the thing is that right now I want to have fun and go out and keep doing the things I've been doing, but my body is all "hold up!" ...and I think I'm starting to listen to it.

This boy is tired.

So Chicago went well enough. It was good being in a new city, surrounded by a forest of buildings with Michigan Ave leading the way. Buffalo and even Toronto seem flat in comparison.

The portfolio reviews.
I know everyone had a different experience with the reviews: we're all different artists at different levels of development. Some art school reviewers also SUCK... like otis. I talked to the San Francisco Art Institute and the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. They are such competitive and prestigious art schools; respectively West coast and Midwest meccas of art. From what I've seen, the work I make fits really well into both schools art-philosophies; so I was absolutely thrilled when both gave me excellent reviews! San Francisco basically said that my work was exactly what they want in their New Genre program; and the super friendly reviewers at Chicago told me to apply not to one, not two, but three of the programs! Chicago still seems like a stretch to me though, because I'm required to sell myself separately to their Photography, Art and Technology, and Performance departments. We'll see... I think my mind is already made up to go if I get accepted to either of the schools. Of course, I'll apply to more, such as a few schools in Toronto. I know it would be really disappointing to leave good friends in the area, but it's such a rare opportunity and I want to get the absolute most out of grad school.

The trip itself... for me.
Mentally I was so prepared for the trip. Only once did I lose focus, and it cost some time, but otherwise everything went smoothly. It seemed like everyone in the group really appreciated the opportunity too see a bit of Chicago and meet with art schools... that feels good.

Physically, I was good too... until I arrived home. At that point my body said, "Done." Then my body thought it would be better for itself to unplug from all consciousness; I passed out twice as I made my way towards Desirae's door for help. Apparently I got her attention, and she took care of me as well anyone could. Thank you so much for that. After running tests and whatnot, the doctor didn't think much of it. And I'm fine now, so it really isn't too big of a deal, although body parts are a bit sore.

It's never done that before... I've always taken for granted that I could trust my body to maintain my consciousness... I feel betrayed.