I’ve been wanting to do an Art Assignment for awhile now but haven’t had the chance to really get into one project—but I think this latest one, quietest place, is all about realizing opportunities to find and make something special.

I actually wasn’t thinking about the assignment at all today as I walked around campus. But as soon as I stepped into a rather unused stairwell at the far side of the business school, it just sort of hit me: this was the quietest place.

I didn’t really want to post this at first. I kept thinking, “this does not matter” and “this is unimportant”. But then I realized that not every moment that you decide to stop and take in the world has to be some dramatic, sweeping, life-altering realization. In fact, maybe it’s the overly mundaneness of a sterile stairwell that makes this whole thing beautiful. No, I am not going to remember and look back on the moment I stood in a stairwell for five minutes and watched and listened to the world go by me with complete fascination—I’ll probably forget I even stopped. But the whole point of Quietest Place I feel is to remind yourself that little moments can help you learn more about the world, maybe not in any sort of grand, amazing way, but in the same way you need to subconsciously remember to keep breathing. Whether you realize it or not, you need it to keep going.

it’s so much easier to be happy for/see the overwhelming potential in other people than it is to even begin to believe in yourself. it’s just so apparent in everyone else that they will be the best of the best at what they do. i think i hold a harsh side of a sort of double standard against myself, and the good side to the rest of the world. 

today’s thoughts

  • when i think about the future, i’m not even really thinking about it. it’s sort of like this white wall/block that’s all unknown and while i can take a guess as to what i might be/would like to be doing, it’s just easier to say “something will happen!!” then so say “everything will go worse than poorly.” 
  • today i am feeling not good enough. i submitted some crappy crap poem to my school’s literary mag and it didn’t get in. truth is, i don’t even really care. but i also kinda do. but i know that it doesn’t mean i completely suck. especially because the poem was not great.  but i also think it means that i should stop trying all together and just start applying to work in the FBI 
  • (i would never last a day in the FBI. face it: i just wanna be olivia dunham.) 
  • my life might get suckier. i’m hoping it doesn’t, but it’s just something that could happen. i’ve just been realizing though that i don’t know anything about anything. i haven’t read the books i should have read. i haven’t done things i should have or gone places. 
  • it’s weird, cause it’s a really beautiful day. and i don’t want to be all gloomy. but i have to write an essay that’s pointless, and i just realized that i shouldn’t think that things are pointless, and i should instead find some sort of redeeming quality in it. 
  • but i kinda can’t. 
  • basically, wishing things were a lot different today, and trying not to convince myself that they’ll never get better. 
  • peace. 
happy #nationalsiblingday to my sister. simply best friends doesn’t cut it. every only child’s dream come true times infinity. ✨👭✨😘

happy #nationalsiblingday to my sister. simply best friends doesn’t cut it. every only child’s dream come true times infinity. ✨👭✨😘

Maybe it’s true: maybe the universe doesn’t give a shit about you. But through empathy, we can care about each other, and we are also of the universe.

John Green in Thoughts on How to Make Things And Why (via mb)

right now kayla and quinn are at an eisley show and they’re???? in??? the???? front???? row???? i didnt think that front row was a THING THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED TO REAL PEOPLE???? JUST SUPERHUMANS????? SO I GUESS THEY’RE SUPER HUMANS NOW I AM SO BEYOND OVER THE MOON HAPPY/EXCITED FOR THEM OMG??? 

☔☁☔

☔☁☔

here it is. i hope you don’t think it’s too terrible. if you do, let me know, though. thanks, dudes. 

The Bike Club

     After the sliver of passionately soft spring passed and the hanging heat settled itself in waves above the black pavement, the Bike Club began its newest season.

    Two years ago, under the pink and blue evening sky that promised us all a tall cone of cotton candy at the upcoming town fair, my brother Jake had been collected by Mickey Miller, the leader of the Bike Club. I remember opening my bedroom window and looking down on the two boys, engaged in a youthful business negotiation. Mickey shook Jake’s hand. My brother smiled bigger that on any Christmas morning. He stood there for minutes after Mickey left out doorstop, watching Mikey’s figure fade from his vision, and breathing in the song the sidewalks rang out to him through their imperfect pores and cracks—calling his name, solidifying the duty that he must bring unto them and the rest of the roads that spiraled in and around the lazy summer town. He looked up at my window an hour later. “See that?” he asked. I nodded. 

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hello
i took this picture awhile ago when it was colder out and i was on a walk. there’s this road behind my school and this huge huge huge building that i think is some sort of art gallery headquarters. i like to pretend it’s a secret organization and i’m catching onto their secrets when i walk by and look into the fence. 
in case anyone was wondering about that last text post, i got the job. well, i don’t actually get to have the job until next spring. but still, i got it. i’ll be working in my school’s writing and center and helping people who come in with essays. i guess it isn’t a huge deal or anything, but i think it’s some sort of step in some sort of potentially right direction. 
school is weird. somedays are good, others are very not. 
i’ve been working on/thinking about my new story a lot. i’m just happy to be falling in love with something again. 
i had to write a short story for class, and since i haven’t posted anything i’ve written in forever on here, i figured i’d post this. it’s not good at all, but it’s not totally terrible. i think. maybe. who knows, you tell me. 
look out for that in a sec.
have a beautiful day. it’s finally spring. 
  • hello
  • i took this picture awhile ago when it was colder out and i was on a walk. there’s this road behind my school and this huge huge huge building that i think is some sort of art gallery headquarters. i like to pretend it’s a secret organization and i’m catching onto their secrets when i walk by and look into the fence. 
  • in case anyone was wondering about that last text post, i got the job. well, i don’t actually get to have the job until next spring. but still, i got it. i’ll be working in my school’s writing and center and helping people who come in with essays. i guess it isn’t a huge deal or anything, but i think it’s some sort of step in some sort of potentially right direction. 
  • school is weird. somedays are good, others are very not. 
  • i’ve been working on/thinking about my new story a lot. i’m just happy to be falling in love with something again. 
  • i had to write a short story for class, and since i haven’t posted anything i’ve written in forever on here, i figured i’d post this. it’s not good at all, but it’s not totally terrible. i think. maybe. who knows, you tell me. 
  • look out for that in a sec.
  • have a beautiful day. it’s finally spring. 

From Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler & Maira Kalman

From Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler & Maira Kalman

(Source: whatthewordsmiss)