Day 68: Let's show false Art what beauty was of yore.

-
I hopped out of bed at 6:45, read Sonnet 68, and went all the way to DC only to realize I was not feeling well enough to work. At 10:45, I was back in bed -- I guess some of my stomach bug still lingers!

It wasn't too bad, though: once home, I wrote to Ms. Peterson, Priya's amazing English teacher and my longtime mentor and friend. Their class is starting Shakespeare next week, so I thought I'd send her the 9 sonnets I've written and the stories behind each of them. I've posted the poems here, but to hear the stories, you'll have to ask me yourself! (Please know that I wrote some of these when I was much younger and not as metrically inclined! Wait, who am I kidding? I'm still a failure when it comes to scansion.)

After this, I did some work to help Vera make gift tags for SBY's Angel initiative, which helps make the holidays memorable for at-risk youth in DC.

I then spent some time browsing the amazingly classy blog of my good friend Katie Pope. It is an extraordinarily well done fashion blog which I would encourage all my readers to check out at http://sp-kp.blogspot.com/.

Gotta love word clouds.
In the afternoon, I planned on resting for a short while, but ended up conking out for 3 hours. It appears I really did need the rest. When I awoke from my slumber, I chatted with my sister Laura on Skype before taking a shower and donning my OP tee, given to me by my friends Jarde and Keila during my time in Recife this October. This reminded me that I should send them a message, so I shot them a quick "alô!"

I now attempt to finalize my plans for this weekend before it's time for dinner. Let's hope I'm well enough for work tomorrow!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Bygones -- by Marina Keegan

-
Image
I had a dream the other night that I was checking my email. That dream sucks. And woke to woes of seniors writing love songs for tomorrow and Tomorrow and the melodies That flirt us forward, whispering the next thing and the next thing and  – so we beat on birds flocking south until we circle round and realize maybe maybe all that running wasn’t worth it. Maybe we should build a cabin. Or teach high school. Or use our hands. My palms are smooth as words – Weak with fashion and double spaces. I want everyone else’s club and job and class The grass I sleep in always browner than Than that around erasing dreams To sit and breathe because you Only bank for two years then it's over And twenty two is nothing new It’s just another chance to build For when we’re twenty three And twenty four And time begins to sell for more than Any 9 a.m. to never. We’re not stuck. That's the thing, we're not stuck. We owe no o
Read more

Day 97: I might steal your clothes and wear them if they fit me.

-
Image
After reading Sonnet 97, I finished writing the birthday gratitude messages I had started over the weekend. I then launched into a few hours of chores. Not the least exciting of these was the Psyche-like task of organizing our family's drawer containing a variety of small change from many different countries my dad visits for World Bank missions. FUN. Next, I sent a message to some of my blog followers, requesting that they help me to publicize a video I recorded with Melvin Taylor on Day 87 . As I explained in the email, we are trying to broaden our base of viewers, and are experimenting with the "magic of social media" to help in publicizing our work. So, I requested that these friends share our video on Facebook and/or Twitter to help spread the word -- and I'd love if you all would do the same! After lunch, I started to watch a cute Christmas flick -- All I Want for Christmas . It was relaxing to enjoy the innocence of the two protagonists, a charming lit
Read more

This is my smoke signal!

-
Image
Just wanted to drop a quick line to let you guys know what the end of a college semester looks like, and to let my parents know I'm alive under all this studying! I tallied up the number of hours I expect to be toiling away at homework this weekend, and the total quickly reached a neat 24. I have about 12 hours "free" to work this weekend when I'm not performing, in a meeting, or fraternizing with my professors and peers at idyllic spring picnics and the like. In other words, STRESS ! The stuff I'm working on is actually really fascinating, but I'll probably only appreciate that after the fact, when I have three 10-to-15-page papers printed and sitting in front of me in an aesthetically pleasing stack. The big-ticket items for each class include: A paper on meditation in psychotherapy  for my Indian Philosophy class: this will allow me to explore my interests in Vipassana and counseling, by analyzing the extent to which modern Western psychotherapy
Read more