Busy life. Everything is flooding in, and all is flowing out. In some sense, I feel relieved, in some other, I feel tense. I don't know why but I can't read myself anymore. Perhaps it is because of the circumstances, or- it's because I'm afraid to look further than what appears to the eye. I believe it's the latter. Underneath my skin, I feel this tight knot making me feel... anguish, loss, despair... Even though I have no reason to, or- it is because I haven't looked far enough; I wouldn't know. Would I?
***
Today, I had a TAP to do in my Humanities class. It went better than I thought it would. Then, I stayed in school till 5:30PM to work on the forearms of my 'pantin'. I have no idea how you say that in english. I had to carve and engrave some designs onto the surface of the wood. I'm not quite done with them. I still have some few arrangements to fix and then I'll take some pictures. :)
Tomorrow, I don't have school because there is a strike going on. I wish I could have stayed home and slept in and enjoy my one day of break. BUT, I have to head out and give Baby back to Mai. :)
why do i wake up every morning with my jaws clenched tight? why does everytime i'm not conscious of my actions, when i am 'dans la lune', i always end up clenching my teeth.
it hurts.
i don't know why i unconsciously do this. is it because i'm stressed? i have a lot to deal with but i'm managing fine. at least, i think i am.
I was at school and took pictures of 10 of my paintings or drawings. I had to take two pictures of my work for my portfolio and 20 pictures of like daily life, like snapshots. That's for photoshop class so that I'd be able to use them to like manipulate pictures or whatever. The teacher didn'.t explain it very well though. He said as if we had to take 20 pictures of our work... for the portfolio. So today, I brought 11 paintings and drawings. Damn it. It pisses me off. It was so heavy when I brought it to school. But the pictures came out good. :D I went to the school's audiovisuel to borrow a camera and a tripod. I forgot to bring my USB key and shit so I feel ridiculous. I wasn't planning on doing the picture thing today. :T I was planning on doing it on wednesday night, after humanities class. But I was told that it doesn't take a lot of time to finish the assignment so I just did it, although I am missing two sculptures. I can always do that on wednesday. Today, I took pictures of the artwork I've always wanted to, so it's a win-win situation today :D It was a good opportunity YAY! :D And like there's this intercollegial contest going on for art students. We have to submit one of our artwork and I decided to submit the Twiggy portrait I did. I still have to show it to my teacher before I submit it though. :T Either that or I can paint something tonight. :D I'm really motivated. I just got to get it done before thursday, because that's when the jury chooses who gets to participate in the contest. I'd really like to get in that. :D I don't have homework for tomorrow. I have an exam on wednesday in humanities class.
This portrait I had to do for Org. Pict. 1. Some drawing I did in HS about pollution.
A greyscale portrait for Color class last term.
A drawing I did like... 2-3 years ago. :)
Paintings of bamboo I did in Org. Pict. 1. with the theme China. I had other canvases that go with it as well, but I didn't take it in pictures. :T
A spray painting I did two years ago, in winter. :)
A painting I did during summer 2009.
A painting in which I just played with the colors. :) 18/01/2010
A painting I drew a long while ago. Like during the summer 2009 maybe.
Maybe I should have taken one last glance before I walked away.
I was debating whether I should or not as I was walking. By the time I decided I should, I was too far away and he had already gone. I wonder if he was waiting for me to turn around? Maybe I should have.
I'm so lazy that I screwed myself over. :( I procrastinated. Now I have so many assignments due.
I just did my photoshop homework. I did humanities. I have a rédaction tmrw. In the morning, I'll do my clay sculpture due thursday. In the afternoon, I'll continue it if I'm not done. I will go to Omer as well to buy the papier Ingres for thursday. I will do the chair now due thursday morning. Tomorrow, I will put the platre inside my sculpture due monday. SIGH.
I squinted my eyes as much as I could. I hoped that through my effort I could see them, or maybe I just did not look hard enough. They simply were not there tonight.
I feel disconnected. I feel lost and confused. I am not aware of my actions. I walk aimlessly to school. Honestly, I don't even know how I managed to get to a destination without realising what I'm really doing. I guess I'm able to get to school because I remember it as a habit.
I can taste the sweetness melt on my tongue, I can nearly taste your kiss, feel your breath, it's so sickeningly sweet it could almost rot my teeth.
I could feel the burning light on my back, overshadowing my figure, I lowered my head in defeat, I could only trace the black contour of my frame, with my eyes, I tried to feel the brightest star.
as I helplessly headed towards a long day, only to come out in the dark, with my shoulders deflated, surrounded by silent walking figures, and crowds having a fit. When I finally severed my tie with the outside world, the noise, the commotion, I walked towards the dark, avoiding the lights, the lamposts, I looked up. I could only see them in the dark.
Only in the dark can I admire all of you.
I lifted my head, way high up, unusually, I could almost lose my balance, and lose all of it. They were calling out for me, but my voice isn't strong enough to reach them.
In the early dim sky, there were no feelings, I looked up to see a crisp grey backdrop, the only warmth was led on by my breath, every inhale I take, the more warmth I lost, every exhale I let go, the more life slips away from my lips,
I looked down to stare at the black shaking ground, I look up and stare out the windows, I don't see the portrait of the sun like I usually do, it doesn't greet me like it usually does, it can't greet me because the clouds are sniding their frustrations, I saw the reflections of the pillars across the icy waters, across the scattered pieces of thin ice, it was cold and dead.
I met a new friend. His name is Viet. It turns out we are similar in some ways. It's really fun to be friends with him. :] We talked about lots, and one thing that marked me was the artists he named when we talked about our taste in music. He said Salyu. I was curious so I checked it out online. It turns out... that she is like... OH-MY-GOODNESS-SHE-IS-AMAZING!!! I LOVE HER! I FELL IN LOVE WITH HER VOICE!
Lately, I'm so inspired. So much that I feel like it's overflowing out of me, it's literally pouring out of me, and I'm sad because I can't keep it in. I have a somewhat bad memory, so I may not remember it after some time. It frustrates me to know that I will not be able to produce what I felt. I don't know what I'm feeling, but this feeling I have inside of me... it makes me feel alive. It gives me strength, it provides me meaning, it makes me feel like I'm living for something, for a reason. I don't know if this feeling can be considered being inspired. It feels like being in love... but if I were in love, I'd be in love with the idea of being in love with feelings and the sky.
I am in love with the sky. I feel like it is a whole other entity, like my equal. It moves, it breathes, it bleeds. At night, I feel like... I'm all alone, just me and my sky. I don't know how to express myself in words. At least, not accurately, and certainly not about these kinds of feelings. So, I am certainly unable to show how good it feels to be alone outside just staring into the depth of the sky. I feel like... the sky is staring into me, and I feel like I can see through it and see further. I can see in it, and feel its beating. It's like... an intimate feeling. I feel so sad when I step back into my house every night. It's like I'm stepping back into the world, the noise, the commotion. When I go to bed, I hear my house creak. I inhale, and I look out my window. When I wake up in the morning, there's a rush. It's so noisy, there's so much going on that I never hear myself think. When I step out of the house, I always look up first. I look at the sky and see how it's doing. When I take the bus and it crosses over the bridge, I love to look at the reflection of the sky on the surface of the water. I see how the sun slowly invades the sky and makes it bleed through the clouds. I see its reflection beaming across the waters. I feel like the sky is giving me a reassuring smile every morning and it brightens me up before I step back into my numbing routine of a life.
I looked straight ahead of me. There was a deafening silence ringing in my ears; it soothes me. I took a glimpse at the many glistening stars, flowing in the deep blue sky, all dancing above my eyes, glimmering for my eyes, but I could only see one. I stared straight ahead of me, I could only follow the brightest one. It is as if the others were green in envy, they fell, in attempt to get closer, they fell to their depth; like shooting stars, they dimmed away, as you still reflected my eyes.
I try to keep my grasp on your wrist, I don't ever want to let you go. I only had eyes for the brightest star.
If I could, I would raise my arms, and stretch them wide, I would look up to stare at how my arm sways when I twine it, as if I was using my fingers to draw a line among the stars, to pull a thread, to reach out and capture the glittering star in my palm.
I slowly laid my hand down, enough so that my fingertips touched my forehead, I gasped at the cold touch, and I closed my eyes wishing I had someone who could bring me warmth. In a breath's time, I held in all that I could before I slowly opened my eyes, only to realise I was standing alone under the night, under the white flurries settling on the dead cold ground. I slowly blinked my eyes, only to see that the brightest star was looking down on me, I took another breath in, and I took one last glimpse before I whispered it goodbye, until tomorrow's night.
♥ L'amour est une émotion complexe. Il peut embrouiller la raison de l'être, en conséquant, cet individu agit selon ses instincts et commettera des actions irrationnels. L'amour peut également être un sentiment qui remplit le vide dans le coeur d'un être, et donc, il donne vie à une certaine humanité, une certaine affection à l'individu. L'amour est-il un concept créée par l'homme pour subvenir à ses besoins? On ne peut nier l'impact de l'amour, alors nécessairement, il n'est pas un concept. Le fait que l'amour existe, il y a donc une émotion contraire, et donc la haine. On dit qu'il y a une mince frontière entre l'amour et la haine. Lorsqu'on aime, et qu'on ne reçoit pas la même affection qu'on a offert, cela suscite dans notre comportement humain un sentiment négatif, dont la vengence. La haine, selon moi, est considérée comme de l'amour, mais un amour négatif, un amour destructeur. Pourquoi? Si on était pour vraiment, disons détester une personne, c'est à cause qu'on tient la personne à coeur, qu'on tient un évènement qui nous a marqué négativement à coeur, qu'on a tenu des paroles à coeur. Donc, ce qui veut dire, d'une manière ou d'une autre, qu'on démontre de l'affection. Il y a un côté bon et mauvais à chaque chose, et donc la mauvaise affection est aussi considérée comme de l'affection, et le fait qu'on a cette mauvaise affection, on haït une personne. Le vrai amour n'est pas égoïste. L'amour est une manière subtile de prouver la faiblesse de l'humain. L'amour démontre le besoin d'aimer et d'être aimé de l'humain. L'amour est nécessaire à tous. Le vrai amour existe. Il suffit qu'on le trouve. Il suffit qu'on travaille pour l'obtenir. Le vrai amour n'est pas visible, il est présent en tout temps, il ne suffit qu'on le découvre par nous-même. Il faut qu'on travaille pour l'obtenir, on ne peut pas attendre toute notre vie pour le partenaire parfait, car sinon, sans efforts, même avec la personne qu'on est destinée avec, l'amour ne tombe pas du ciel.
L'amour n'est pas gratuit.
Dans le fond, on ne sait rien sur l'amour. On est ignorant de ce qu'est l'amour en tant que tel. On connaît les répercussions, les sentiments et le rôle de l'amour chez l'être humain, mais à ce que je sache, on ne sait pas et on ne saura jamais la vérité et de ce qu'il est réellement, l'amour.
when i was on my way home, i felt the icy breeze tickle my ears i looked up and felt its soul swallowing me whole i slowly opened my eyelids and gazed into the million of stars when i walked in the lonely street, the stars whispered to me when i got to my doorstep, they followed me and kept me safe. ♥sylvia
i wish that you would hold me in your arms and whisper in my ear, anything i wish to hear your voice, because it soothes me your voice warms me up, your hoarse voice murmurs i want you to stroke my cheek gently with your fingers and i want to give you the same shivers you give me i want you to look into my eyes, and see my soul i want to gaze deep into you and understand you i want you to swallow me whole in your warmth and tell me to go where my heart leads me to i want you to inhale my scent and remember me when i leave
i want you to miss me i want you to want me i want you to need me i want you to love me.
i guess this is just the beginning of something wonderful.
i'm sorry for making you endure this, but i need time to settle down and think. i need to know for sure if this is the right decision, if you are right for me
oh baby, why can't you just tell me there is nothing, absolutely nothing that could ever, ever come between us
baby, i don't know what to think, i don't know what to do i don't know what to say i don't know anything, where i am, what i'm doing, what i should do, what i should be thinking
the repetitive things, our daily tasks, in our routine, they're confusing me i fear the unknown
i don't know what is coming next, i don't know anything but i can assure you, i need you like the air that sustains me.
My art is instinctive, expressive and reflective of my soul. It feels for me, it thinks for me, it moves for me, it speaks for me.
I paint to influence, to move, to feel and to express my feelings.
The emotions are sometimes so strong that I work without knowing it. The strokes come like speech.*Vincent van Gogh
The only time I feel alive is when I'm painting.*Vincent can Gogh
. profile
My name is Sylvia. I'm 19 years old. I go where my hearts leads me to, and at this moment, it's beating for arts. It allows me to learn, to see, to explore, to discover things about the world, and about me. I wish to live my life well and to be able to express my voice in all possible forms.more?
