treasure found

one night last week, while in the 'burbs to help out my dad while my mom was in haifa, sleep and i started fighting...

ME: but it's time for me to sleep! i want to sleepppp!
SLEEP: i don't care, i don't want to help you right now.
ME: gosh.

so i got up and looked around for a book to read. at first i went on a mad hunt for the first harry potter, with the next book coming out soon (thank goodness) i thought it a wise choice. i didn't find it. what i did find however, was this really old, pretty looking book (i judge books by their covers). intrigued i opened it up to find the picture to the left. the book was apart of my grandpa lehman's collection. i figured that if he put that stamp within this book, he must have liked it or at the very least read it. and due to the fact that his alzheimer's had hit full-swing by the time i came around, this book (or at least how i like to look at it) is a way for me to get to know my grandpa. i became even more excited when i flipped through the book to find that he had marked some of the short stories and poems, which in my mind means that these are the passages that stood out and spoke to him, or just made him think a little deeper upon a subject. the following poem he has marked at the beginning and at the end, which to me reads he liked it aLOT. and after reading it i felt like i'm getting a chance to know who he was:

THE NEEDLE

The gay belles of fashion may boast of excelling

In walzt or cotillon , at whist or quadrill;
And see admiration by vauntingly telling
Of drawing, and painting, and musical skill:
But give me the fair one, in country or city,
Whose home and its duties are dear to her heart,
Who cheerfully warbles some rustical ditty,
While plying the needle with exquisite art:
The bright little needle, the swift-flying needle,
The needle directed by beauty and art.

If Love have a potent, a magical token,
A talisman, ever resistless and true,
A charm that is never evaded or broken,
A witchery certain the heart to subdue,
'T is this; and his armory never has furnished
So keen and unerring, or polished a dart;
Let beauty direct it, so polished and burnished,
And oh! it is certain of touching the heart:
The bright little needle, the swift-flying needle,
The needle directed by beauty and art.

Be wise, then, ye maidens, nor seek admiration,
By dressing for conquest, and flirting with all;
You never, whatev'e be your fortune or station,
Appear half so lovely at rout or at ball,
As gayly convened at the work-covered table,
Each cheerfully active, playing her part,
Beguiling the task with a song or a fable,
And plying the needle with exquisite art:
The bright little needle, then swift-flying needle.
The needle directed by beauty and art.

-Samuel Woodworth

p.s. my grandma was a quilter

tag. you're it. go directly to jail. do not collect $200.

the rules of this tag game: each person tagged gives seven random facts about themselves, and then tags seven people to do the same. thanks, heather.

1.) sometimes the only thing that can get me out of bed in the morning is the outfit i put together in my head while laying in bed trying to decide if i should get up or go back to sleep.

2.) two days after each time i post, i tell myself i will never blog again.

3.) nothing bugs/irritates me more than when people chomp their gum in a way that i can hear the saliva between the gum and their teeth with each chew. gum should be chewed, not heard!

4.) in kindergarten when our teacher told us it was spelling time, i would go to the bathroom and count to one hundred hoping that by the time i came out the lesson would be over.

5.) if you call on me to say something (talk, give an answer, give my opinion...etc.) out of no where-- for example if you pick me out of a group and say, "What do you think anya?" i will reply, "I think you should never do that to me again."

6.) my ideal day would start with three shots of orange juice.

7.) i beat up a boy named brad when i was in seventh grade and even though the bus driver witnessed it, along with the vice principle and my eight grade basketball coach, no one tried to stop me or talked to me afterwards. actually, no one ever mentioned it except one girl who came up to me during lunch to say, "that was awesome!"*

*mention this to my mother and i will do the same thing to you!

happy birthday katie!!

the peaks of being a tia

things are a changing for the better, this year will be hard but i know in the end i'll find a school i like at a price my liver and scoliosis will be able to handle. this year i will learn how to be patient and it will all be okay. positivity is flowing through me again, and the cause? after months of holding out, elsa gave me (not one but two!) HUGE kicks. oh, elsa joon, you sure know how to teach this tia lessons!

happy birthday mom! i miss you tons and tons!

words! i am no good with words, i am no good with power.

i feel like i'm becoming a new person each day. each day a new layer is peeled as i'm making my way down to my core. and i'm re-learning how to think and learning how to make what is in my heart apart of this physical world. i'm learning my strength and learning my place. it's hard and tiring, and sometimes i feel selfish; i don't know where to step, which way to go, or on which beat to clap. so unclear the future has become. i want someone to take me by the hand and show me where to go and how to serve, but these things i'm learning i have to find on my own. a rapid growth is within me and if it ended in a eruption of a scream it would send ripples through the ocean.

ALANIS MORISSETTE! ALANIS MORISSETTE!

i think for this, i might love her forever.

don't you want me baby, don't you want ohhhhohohhhh

so guess what human league? university of michigan does want some of this! what!?? that's right. i'm starting this post with a little bit of old news. well, only two days old but after the misery of a day i had today it feels like months ago or just an excitement that lasted two point thirty four seconds.

this is my day: at sometime between 4:15 and 6:04 this morning i had a dream. the moment i realized what i was dreaming was a dream i pulled myself awake so fast--i can't even tell you. i yelled, "no, no, no, no, no!" and sank into sadness while revisiting the deep emotions i had experienced during the dream. it wasn't that the dream was sad, it was quite happy and wonderful, it was just---well, i don't think i can ever explain it to anyone. it just was what it was and in the end made me disappointed in my subconscious. stupid subconscious what do you think you are doing? ugh.

so from 6:04 to 8:50 i flipped and flopped trying to forget the dream, to forget the warm and perfectly right feeling i had before i realized it was a dream. (do people have those moments in real life? where things are per.fect.ly. right?...creepily great feeling, no?) anyways trying to use my escape (sleep) to escape that dream lead me to sleeping wayyy in, causing a decision to be made; eat breakfast or make lunch? i ate the breakfast, not thinking twice about how i don't have money to spend on five dollar lunches.

after my morning class i ran to the computer lab to look up numbers for u of m and ran into dan (yeah, dan!). he was tan and we then realized we hadn't seen each other for two weeks and then we got sad because that is what is going to be like when i leave. i checked u of m's transfer scholarships and found out that it is due tomorrow. panic mode set in quick (really quick, because at this point i was still shaking from the dream). i then proceeded to call them to find out about my options for next year. due to financial restraints, i might have to delay school for a year... so i call to figure out my options. i ask if they have one year deferments; they don't. i ask how long do i have to work/live in michigan to get in-state tuition; i can't until i'm 24. it was then i realized that there was no place to hide and call someone to cry and that i thought to myself, "this [as in uic] campus stinks, no wonder no one is happy here."

i moped up the stairs to my next class acting happy while stress eating pretzel rods...i was so hungry i ended up eating half the bag. after class, after the effect of having two options slam in my face settled in for four hours, i saw geet-street* for the first time in five days. internally, i wanted to hug her and just start crying. externally, i got all wide-eyed and happy, ran over to her and pinched her cheek and said, "she does exist!" and then i broke down with a "today is the worst day ever...it started with a dream and then i can't afford to go to u of m." like the amazing feat that she is she said, "no. anya, this is what you are going to do. take a year off. re-apply, make their feb. financial aid deadline, and work on stuff to add to your sweet portfolio. i'm pretty close to taking next year off, too. it's fine. okay, i have to go finish this and i'll see you in 25 hours. it's fine, it's going to be all right."

and with that geet gave me hope and i started to relax (a very tiny bit, i'm still feeling sick and dizzy...money does that to me...my poor liver). i went back down to the computer lab and started looking up scholarships and doing what i can do until the may 1st deadline when i have to send in my non-refundable $200 acceptance deposit. can i just say, i am so sick of time. i feel like i just missed everything falling into place easily by a month or two. actually, right now taking a year off sounds very calming. but i'm still pretty sick of time.

i'm feeling pretty weird right now. i just came back from ruhi study circle ("Arising to Serve") and i can feel my spirit empowered. i walked into the study circle determined to forget about money and to focus bring the energy from this past weekend to the group. i felt like it worked and felt a lot happier than i have felt while since being in chicago...it feels like a semester since i have genially laughed and was happy.

here's to long pointless, not thought-out post and the human league!

yay!

*this girl is so amazing, i can't help but be attached.

felicity; as in the most recent episode of lost.

dear katie,

felicity.

what show are you watching?

double gosh (because your my sister and you should know better),
anya

geeez

dear j.j. abrams,

are you kidding me?

gosh,
anya

the afternoon that was

my eyes have widened, with a heighten sense of awareness. trying to look beyond my first thoughts, looking beyond myself. searching to find something in a crowded train. looking deeper within the motions around me, turning off the noise and seeing in silence. in everything, everyone something to be found. taken aback, pulling away from the interaction, i let these illusions try to define me. what is it that i see, how do i perceive?

an overwhelming reaction to just sit and observe the world came over me today. i played with fully listening to this "inner-voice" or whatever it was and was tempted to plop down on a corner and to take in the world. my thoughts are scattered and i'm constantly in deep thought, but not the deep thought that's drawing any conclusions or even full thoughts. it's like my head has gone into automatic searching mode, but i'm not sure what exactly what it's searching for. i'm feeling very detached from it all. the good detached, the unconstrained type of detachment.

i gotta learn sometime

this semester is taking a lot out of me, and pretty much everyone i know. school has become this mundane, slow as molasses thing. very painful for all involved, or at least those of us at UIC...or at least just my group of friends. anyways, i try to look to the future, where this is all taking me. but i look and i look and i vaguely see what is there. where will i be...still in chicago, marquette, ann arbor, urbana...batavia? i'm finding it hard to adapt to not knowing, not being able to place myself in a familiar setting. if i go to one of these places, even if i stay here, where/who will i live with, how will i pay for it, how will i move there?

so i don't know all that, okay (in theory...my stomach and head spin when i think about it). so i can't work on the practicals. that leaves me to work on my self and knowing my self. i guess what i'd call it is internal purging. since the beginning of this semester i've felt lost and confused to where i find myself (sinus infections really take a toll when you let them attack you for two weeks). i start off by looking at what i want in the future and once i decide on one thing (little by little), i sit back and ask myself, "now what do i need to do now in order to be ready for that?" and then i work on it. the time to do this feels right (during the fast, right before the baha'i new year, etc.) and it's been awhile since something has felt just right.

i love the fast, it makes me feel still.


Change your heart
Look around you
Change your heart
It will astound you

overheard

there is this a group of friends in my photography class that tend to talk really loud to each other, particularly in the dark room. they make fun of each other constantly, and it gets annoying real quick. but on the rare occasions (okay today was the only time), they make me laugh.

tom 1: "he might as well just log off the thing if he's going to idle for six hours." (chuckling making fun of a friend)
tom 2 (walking up the conversation): "he was idle?"
tom 1: "you don't know what that means? i thought you knew everything about computers!"
tom 2: "yeah, i make movies. i don't sit around idling shit."

the delivery of that last line...it was good.

i write this with a bloody nose

after a long, long, LONG week of being sick and too far from my mama i be going home. (imagine my scratchy voice trying to scream yay! or perhaps a double yay!..it shouldn't be hard because if i tried to nothing would come out) i'm going home people and it feels so good to say so. this morning i thought i was going through a mental breakdown and then i finally decided to skip class (again. i'm not doing so hot on attendance this semester) tomorrow and go! home! once that decision was made my mind, at long last, settled. in other good news, i saw julie w. this week and she told me to leave uic!!!!!! when she told me i was so delighted and excited i could have thrown down the one twenty five on the table, said, "thank you" and left happy beyond happily satisfied.


searching for answers
in places i know they won't be
hoping beyond wishing
you will make it easy
and walk up
and give into me

A Poem from my free-style heroine, Maya

a conceit

give me your hand

make room for me
to lead and follow
you
beyond this rage of poetry.

let others have
the privacy
of touching words
and love of loss
of love.

for me
give me your hand.

oh baby sparrow, maybe it's too late

there is a big bay window across the street. on the weekends and on the rare 11 o'clock occassions a yellow lab basks in the sunlight while effortlessly chewing on it's bone.

i wish it were sunday morning, i wish i were that dog.

classes started a week ago and i'm finding it hard to care about them. "care" in the way of having high anxiety about them. for example, my first photo project is due tomorrow and i'm finding it hard to see if my pictures are all clear and in focus. but i don't seem to mind if they turn out badly, if the lighting is way off, if i'll get them developed in time, or if i loaded the film right. i have a strong attitude of "it's okay, it's just a learning experiance" so i'm relaxed and enjoying messing around. how will i learn if i don't make mistakes? (oh lord, i hope this mentality sticks around)

i find myself more and more interested in industrial design. i'm enrolled in the intro. class and it's starting off slowly and holding me in great anticipation. i hate moments of anticipation, they make me feel uneasy and nauseated. "TELL ME, i just want to know! are you the career for me?!" i've started to read about it daily and i just want more. but like each time i start to fall in love, i'm terrified of the disappointment that the anticipation can bring. so. very. scared.

a birthday made.

it might not have snowed for or by my birthday, but all was forgiven and forgotten when i got a birthday e-mail from my merkels and this picture was tagged to it. i miss my kids so much.

so true.

come monday i will be 21. after this last week spent in columbus, i feel older and...stiller? i feel like i'm going to own this age i'm turning. up until this last week i've been stuck at 18.5 (a toss between the ages 18 and 19). i wonder if that means anything. mmahh, probably not.

what made me feel old after columbus? a new layer of understanding in the area of tests. tests not only allow one to grow, but also show you how much you have grown...or in my case that i have grown at all. though the test i was granted could be considered extremely tiny for most, it was huge for me. and to learn that i am growing, well, booyah-hooray! i have the capacity to grow!

p.s. click on the title of this post

promise made

movies from my film class (by far the best class i had this semester)...


love one (music by common market, pieces of footage from "the scare mitch project" by suzanne)


the animal parade (in-film editing project)


tia anya has a movie for you! (as seen on husayn's blogger)


comfort (artist piece)



dance party! (that's what i'm talking about...music by taliman)

typical

so assignment #35 isn't showing up so i'm going to take some brotherly-in-law advice and post it myself. i also noticed that one might not know what my poster says in assingment #10, so i whipped up this diagram in photoshop...hopefully it reads more clearly.


Assignment #35 "Going Anya on ya"

Brent says:

In the morning, Anya, like many, lies in bed. She does so, however,  in a
particularly idiomatic style which... SAYS something. ABOUT something.
Anya's modus operandi is to lie in the carnage of a nightlong battle
recently lost, the victorious entangling bed sheets flung to and fro over
their newly won domain. She lies still, but in a dynamic pose, with
half-closed eyelids, in order to better stay in the bitter, green twilight
between boringly realistic dreams and exotic, dangerous waking life. Then
she gets up. She rubs both of her eyelids with both of her hands; the right
hand rubs counterclockwise, while the left rubs clockwise. Then she
stretches, gets up, and gets cereal. Apple Jacks. The rest of her day is
pretty boring.

...or...

Anya's first activity upon waking is to mentally calalouge which
activities she is going to do. This happens while she lies half-awake, while
she gets ready, and while she is in transit. Next, she walks 3 blocks to the
"L" train. She nearly always arrives one full minute before the train does.
Oddly enough, no matter what the day, she always takes the same train at the
same time in the same direction. She might go either to the laundromat, to
class, to the grocery store, or a cafe. She is normally back at her
apartment by 4:00 pm and then settles down to dinner and conversation with
her roomates. She watches whatever the favorite show of the roomate is,
talking through the commercials. She goes to bed by 10:30. Rinse. Lather.
Repeat.

Katie says:

I know Anya pretty well, so I think I have a pretty
good idea of what she does with her time when I say
that she probably spends a good deal of her time
laughing.  I mean, I know she's very busy with school
work and teaching children's classes and keeping up
with her family.  At the moment she has a sculpture
project due and a film project due, which is keeping
her busy and probably a bit nervous and stressed, but
I can pretty much guarantee that she is laughing while
she's doing it.  Most likely, she's making others
laugh as well.  The more stressful the situation, the
more it calls for laughter.

and Husayn says:

Anya is an epic figure who uses her free time in ways unimaginable to
the average human. She is all she can be. She just does it. She's the
one who decided to leave off the ketchup. One afternoon she read all
the Harry Potter books and translated them into Latin to just to prove
that it's not dead. She's an army of one because two of her would just
be unfair. In one weekend she mastered the didgeridoo, the kettle drum,
the theremin, and the subtle art of beatboxing to create her first punk
symphony. She is the new black. She's the one who named it the bean.
She's already made an album for every state. Twice. If it wasn't for
her Johnny Depp would be alone, ugly, and living on the street. And
she's the one who inspires all the graffiti. She also goes to school.

Going Anya on ya.

tomorrow i have my first final critique of the semester. and i have to say i had a lot of fun doing this one, even though it was for my stressful drawing class. for the final we had to complete assignments #10, #35 and #50 from this place. (i recently uploaded #35, so it might not be up when you look for it, but look for it! it's a writing piece featuring husayn, katie, AND brent!). along with #10, which is to make a poster about your typical day, we had to expand on that and make a final collage/drawing about it. here is a photo for you visual amusement:


seven. more. days.

(stayed tuned for possible video projects to post)

a bouquet I rise

remember the night you laid me down, you whispered a song to lull me asleep. you kept back the tears that streamed down my cheek (the ones you didn't notice). your hands, in them i entrusted, the seeds of my purity hoping you'd be the one who'd plant and wait patiently. but i awoke a dorthy, dazed and confused, believing in the dream i had slept. i awoke mourning the woman i killed--here you is, here you gone. it was a dream i had slept nine months long. i let you in and then you were done

with me.

isn't that where this story beings? or, perhaps exactly where it ends.