black mountain college

i wish the black mountain college still existed. it was a tiny revolutionary/experimental college that operated from the 1930s - 1950s... seems like everyone that walked out of there was a creative genius. the place was like an exclusive club for the cool kids (namely ray johnson, john cage). i knew nothing about it before coming to asheville, but am falling in love with its legacy almost every day i'm here. it seems like every time i find out about a great artist, they are somehow connected to BMC.






saturday night was something from a really funny dream. erik and i hopped on a purple school bus in downtown, made our way 30 minutes outside of asheville while being serenading by a dj playing a symphony of sirens. the bus turned off a main road, went a little past a prison and dropped us off at a dark location (the old black mountain college campus). we walked in an old cabin looking building overlooking a lake, something like were 200 people there, watched a girl dance around in cellophane, a man play electric guitar while hanging from a construction crane (while strapped on a speaker), a guy shave his head while something was being projected on his shirt, and a mona lisa lady groove inside of a hoop globe. we sipped wine and beer until all the strangeness wasn't so strange anymore, ate more than our fair share of ice cream, ran into a random collection of great people, then hopped on the purple bus and went home.

the alchemist

The boy was beginning to understand that intuition is really a sudden immersion of the soul into the universal current of life, where the histories of all people are connected, and we are able to know everything, because it's all written there. When you want something with all your heart, that's when you are closest to the Soul of the World. It's always a positive force.

february fever

february is the time of year when i start to get antsy. it's the time of year i drain my bank account by booking plane tickets to far away places, impulsively, just wanting adventure. it's the time of year i spend too much time making lists and sketching out what and where i want to plant seedlings in my lil 8x8' garden. it's the time of year i sit on the computer and shop for bathing suits that i will never buy.

...don't get me wrong, i think winter is wonderful in all of it's introspective dry skin bare tree snowy sky glory, but the prospect of warm weather only a month or two away makes me all too excited.

i am overwhelmed with excitement about the possibilities for the years to come, not to mention the upcoming months. gardens and spain and farming and markets and internships and little businesses and organizations and projects i want to start... so much to see and do and LEARN and not nearly enough time.

well now, to root myself back into the winter wonderland that has been asheville, nc for the past few weeks, let me post some snowy pics:

"that sky is how i love you"

a little late for a post about valentines day, but in the spirit of love here's a few excerpts from a book i made for erik...

it's been so long since i've touched this thing. but, i love looking back and documenting thoughts/life as it goes by so lets rev this baby back up again...

potato prints

worst skipping school day ever.

i. am. pissed.

instead of going to school today i decided that spending the day catching up on homework would be the better option. sounds logical, right? well i went to get coffee while waiting for the bayard taylor library to open, and low and behold as i approached my car, i locked the keys inside. the last time i did this was a year ago, and i promised myself i wouldn't do it again. but, you know, it's not the kind of thing that you can really control. sometimes things like that just happen.

so, i decided i wouldn't call my parents for three reasons. a) i didn't think we had an extra set of keys b) i didn't want to openly admit to skipping school c) i hate going to my parents for help when i can just handle situations by myself. yeah, locksmith services probably cost $40 or $50, but i'd rather pay for it than asking my parents to.

i call 4-1-1 and get a number of a locksmith in kennett square. the woman on the phone says they open cars. it'll be 25 minutes and about $75. shit. more expensive than i though but oh well, i already called and it's only 25 minutes. i need to get my papers done asap, and my notes are in the car.

three hours later, the creep of all creeps shows up, spends 30 seconds opening my car, and charges me $180. i argued with him but of course i am a nervous and passive person so i gave in. i was under pressure. and i panicked. i feel like the biggest idiot in the world. i feel sick to my stomach. he definately took advantage of me and i just payed him $180. drained my bank account. much worse things could have happened, i know, but that thought doesn't seem to supress my current frustration. i didn't even get to write my papers.

ended up explaining the whole thing to my mom between tears. and to top it off, we have an extra set of keys.