>>>>Jane Through The Seasons

Via At 4:20pm I submitted my final paper for my Classical Comedy class. Everything in me is crossed for the best grade. Amenamenamenamenamenn! At about 8:15pm, I finished my final exams for my Mysticism class. Again, I am praying for the best grade. Amenamenamenamenamenn! Right now, I am having a huge chocolate milkshake (not the one in the picture), and a waffle soaking in honey. Come onnn! I deserve a little unwinding. A week today, I will have to submit my final essay for my Mysticism class...and then there will be the agony of waiting for grades. Well, I suppose I have to finish that paper first... Happy Thursday! -J

"Our philosophers are children who are afraid of the Darkness." - François Laruelle The above quote is from the last assigned reading for my mysticism class (which I'm really going to miss). It's the shortest essay (in verse) that I've had to read for that class; albeit one of those that one need re-read for a lifetime——and through reading other books and essays on  similar themes, eventually start to 'see' what is being said.  In the meantime, one feels the weight of something beautiful, and a desire to know it. So when I got to the quote above, I stopped reading for a bit because it read like something familiar. It seems like the rewording of the fear of the unknown. We all know it, not just philosophers. What tomorrow will bring is a total darkness. One can't see into it, until one is already immersed in its light.  I suppose the most common darkness is death because one never knows when it will come and  where  it will lead. Thou

A blend of images and color - this one is by me Over, to bud.  It laughed out into: "Dare to be that which you fear." Under it, A soft  how .   How. Sometimes I can 't explain my thoughts hence I hang them up into something like the words above. So I can experience them instead.

Often I dreamt of that day when I would pack my stupid smelly black trunk with its red half moons.  Often, I dreamt of that day when I could eat all my provisions to make my wooden box lighter. I would pack both my wooden box (for provisions) and metal trunk (for school clothes) and hop on the bus from sleepy Cape Coast, and its strict boarding school, to home in Tema. Where the happy noise is, and where my wonderful Nana cooked heavenly——no more gari!  The blissful vacation days! Bliss here meaning sleep, sleep, sleep and not waking up at 5am, or sharing the bathroom with so many girls! That dream kept me going during the long school months. Then it would come, and I would go home. But after about two weeks at home, I would find myself missing school so terribly. Crazy?! This has been the state of my life so far. Wanting, and living for something only to receive it and find myself completely unimpressed by it. Or wanting to go back to the time when I desired it because I burn mor

It's been three years now since I bought this dress at the Century 21 Grand Opening here in Queens.  So I got this crazy prints and studs maxi for $16.99. We've been loving every summer since! Adjustable Hair Band & Bracelets - Mawusi Scarf - My mother's closet! (Happy Mother's day, Ma!) Belt - Forever 21 (Many seasons past) Sweater - Daffy's (When it existed) Bag - Pippi's Longstockings (I LOVE, LOVE this bag!) Shoes - Zara (Yes, I know you can't see them, but believe me, they are fun and orange)

Via Very quite, that's what I've been these past two weeks. In this place where everything is...I don't know. I haven't been dramatic -- as I can be very much so when I am excited. I haven't been depressed. I know that feeling. I've just been quite. Like every thing got muted and I've just been floating through time. The spell started to break yesterday. I think it had something to do with the rain. Today, I heard myself talk in my classes and I felt there was something wrong. I realized, as I walked home after school, that there wasn't anything wrong. It's just been a while since I heard myself really talk. It's been a while since I tried to explain anything to anyone verbally. These past few days, I've been getting my head to shake in all sorts of directions as a form of communication; monosyllabic words have been my friend. School is almost over. Next week I will submit a draft for one class. Next two weeks I will submit my final

Omiya is one of my favorite shops on Etsy--one of my top five favorite jewelry shops on there. So to have Osnat, the genius behind it all here, is a treat! A little about yourself:  My name is Osnat. I am happily married and have two great, joyful and active children (a boy and a girl) as well as one noisy but beautiful cat. What is your Craft story? I dream up my designs - while asleep but sometimes when I am awake too :-)  They come to me when I watch commercials on TV, when I prepare sandwiches for my children, and at other unexpected times. Our home is full of small sheets of paper with illegible drawings to anyone but me. Then I go into my studio and work on gemstones and metal  combinations into surprising results. How did you come to be on Etsy, do you sell anywhere else or would you like to? I was selling my jewelry through art galleries for the last two decades, mostly in Israel and a little in th

Via Getting a little abstract today. I will try and keep it short. I was talking to my mother a few days ago when she decided she was going for a walk. I started thinking of seeing her there and not seeing her, although I would continue to see and so would she. I started thinking of how separated we are and wondering if one ever belongs to anyone, or even to one's self. It seems to me that we belong to everyone and at the same time to no one. Not even ourselves.  Is this what binds us then?  Is this why we are alone but not lonely? Is my inability to understand you a virtual bridge which connects to your inability to understand me, and unite us in our inability to fully know ourselves? The people I have come to know have always passed through my life, as I pass through theirs. Not to a fixed destination. There seems to be no fixed destination in life, just passings. Passing as a continuous process of knowing one person today and another tomorrow, or meeting the different c