tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31683902769830911692011-07-07T14:26:20.341-07:00<a href="http://technorati.com/faves?sub=addfavbtn&amp;add=http://artsyvite.blogspot.com"><img src="http://static.technorati.com/pix/fave/tech-fav-1.png" alt="Add to Technorati Favorites" /></a>Theresa Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10905538984835756177noreply@blogger.comBlogger101100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168390276983091169.post-45020667539011437202010-07-05T16:56:00.000-07:002010-07-05T17:04:29.571-07:00

Things Best Said by OthersHow I have felt as of late was put to song by Regina Spector:"Somedays aren't yours at allThey come and goAs if they're someone else's daysThey come and leave youBehind someone else's faceAnd it's harsher than yoursAnd colder than yours"The person I am today in the mirror is not the person in my head. Somewhere between grieving and pretending to live I became a pale

Theresa Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10905538984835756177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168390276983091169.post-3673986274966665892010-07-02T20:00:00.000-07:002010-07-02T20:07:23.729-07:00

Uterus Doth Not ProtestI knew a long time ago that marriage and motherhood were not the type of things that would keep the rough edges of my life sewn neatly together. For me it is the silence, the melancholy, the words, the magnetic glances of a lover, memories replayed to the tune of my laughter or my tears, the soft fur of a friend beneath my fingers, the sun on my back, the dirt beneath my

Theresa Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10905538984835756177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168390276983091169.post-82986115049226775662010-04-25T13:41:00.000-07:002010-04-25T13:58:55.112-07:00

It has recently reoccurred to me that I have a romantic view of this life I occupy each day. I want there to be singing & dancing. I need for there to be a cosmic sense of why I bother waking up each day. My reasons for lifting apart my lids each day as of late has been bill paying, job having, diligent planning...frankly, that is not good enough for me anymore.I suspect I will make what others

Theresa Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10905538984835756177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168390276983091169.post-42173134673973327902008-11-23T12:42:00.000-08:002008-11-23T13:52:37.987-08:00

The projects we tuck away in our minds. The ones we always tell ourselves we'll get to. About 10 years ago I made a film for a visual communications class. Its title was 'Look Up' & its star was my Gram. I remember thinking at the time how amazing it was that her image could be forever held on a tiny little piece of celluloid. As the years went on I thought how I should find a way to get a

Theresa Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10905538984835756177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168390276983091169.post-26198571810079774692008-11-01T20:25:00.000-07:002008-11-01T20:38:12.460-07:00

The stock market sucks ass. I am poor again. Not that I was ever rich in any sort of real way. I was told to just "wait it out", which would have worked really well for a person who could afford such a move. So, I will focus on the things that ACTUALLY make me rich (in no particular order):1. My mother is in full recovery, getting stronger & smoking less every day.2. I am able bodied (and sexy

Theresa Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10905538984835756177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168390276983091169.post-38234374896007439912008-08-04T12:45:00.000-07:002008-11-13T18:07:22.557-08:00

Listening to Terence McKenna today & the topic of 'Life as Literature' got me thinking. He suggests that life is not a story, as most of us consider it, with a sensible beginning & end.I tend to treat my life as though having a good enough plan will result in the positive progression of my story & will get me even closer to that end where you look back without regret & pass gracefully.I suppose I

Theresa Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10905538984835756177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168390276983091169.post-37772082763934217632008-07-24T19:50:00.000-07:002008-11-13T18:07:22.709-08:00

Jack of all trades, master of none.Sort of sick of it now. Want to apply myself to one thing for a bit; start writing again; explore my creativity; take photos again; explore my aesthetic...so I did what had to be done: I changed my major from Speech Language Pathology to Graphic Design.Sick of analytic thinking....or rather thinking all the frickin' time like I have been seemingly cursed with

Theresa Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10905538984835756177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168390276983091169.post-29424596923122288112008-07-15T17:15:00.000-07:002008-11-13T18:07:22.785-08:00

Moved from endless trees to endless asphalt. Did it to find opportunities not evident in Humboldt County. Grad school starting in just over a month. Big business ideas waiting for realization. Bringing the Humboldt grassroots mindset with me to the capital. Everyone seems to struggle so much...myself included. So everyone aboard the question train:Why is the starving artist an accepted standard?

Theresa Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10905538984835756177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168390276983091169.post-83952495837848194382008-07-11T14:41:00.000-07:002008-07-11T14:47:23.248-07:00

It's the middle of July already. Over half way through 2008. My grandmother was right...time does speed up as you get older.I want to take a nap, but I'm afraid I'll wake up & it'll be 2012 & the meteor will be just about to hit. Everyone around me has me pretty well convinced that 2012 is either the end of the world or the beginning for those who survive. What the hell? I think I'd rather

Theresa Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10905538984835756177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168390276983091169.post-33002523293693946932008-07-09T17:50:00.001-07:002008-11-13T18:07:23.082-08:00

I was eating at Jack's Urban Eats in Sac when I noticed a well dressed, very polite older gentleman ordering food. He was by himself & looked to be somewhere upwards of 80 years old. It took him awhile to get his wallet out, pay for his food & put the change away. The young girl at the counter was friendly & patient. Then along came two woman dressed as if they had never seen a day of work in

Theresa Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10905538984835756177noreply@blogger.com0