On the Move to Chicago … and for art school at The Art School of art schools.

SAIC

The last several nights, my dreams have been ransacked by what I assume is this worried-excitement I am feeling now … about what will be My New Life. My tarot card reading on Friday revealed my need to pull my head a bit more out of the clouds thus making this art school dream truly the reality it is … but these dreams. There are always the dreams.

As a teenager, mainly the years surrounding the death of my aunt Shirley and my subsequent Bipolar diagnosis, my dreams were terrifying. Like night terrors in children, I would have them as a teenager thus telling myself I could tell no one of these things, these dreams, especially the parts about being touched and screamed at by “the monsters”. These monsters were, and still are, the things that are monstrous that moment to me. Last night, bats again, terrorizing my every moment, seeing myself finding pieces of them everywhere, waking up to jump up terrified believing a bat’s head was truly resting on my chest. And more and more. Each night, it is something else, the only thing seeming to tame them being the nights I am staying with Don. That safety. “That nothing bad could possibly happen when he is here” feeling. Don (love) and Art (also, love).

Is this all about my new life? It is all a test of this new woman inside of me … watching the old me die again (whomever she was.) And the new one moving, moving in, moving to Chicago to fulfill a long dream that has always tempered my terrors — the taste of art, the feel and being of it.

Living in an alive city without my hangups (as Kalamazoo has in droves).

Attending a premiere art school where I will learn my new self, learn to channel my unbattered love for art as a way of life always. My little bedfellow next to the love of my life. The art of possibility, randomness, and chance … waiting in the wings always like courage.

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Published in: on June 23, 2009 at 11:37 pm  Leave a Comment  

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