Danae

Today I am one of Klimt's muses, held together by golden strands of satin cloth and the glimmer of precious and hard-edged jewels, as I am dreamily submerged in delusions of grandeur.

"These are the soul's changes. I don't believe in aging. I believe in forever altering one's aspect to the sun. Hence my optimism."
-Virginia Woolf


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Maps and Sightings

And here I thought we would last forever...

...Do I ever.
I am not thinking this over-in fact, I am done thinking about this. I take it for what it is without enforcing too much of a burden upon it, not until the moon absolutely asks me to, anyway.

This last week must have been one of the busiest ones of the semester. I still cannot believe I survived it-I still have trouble breathing, and even more so, convincing myself that it is okay to fall asleep, that there is no need to stay up-that indeed: there are enough hours in the day to do as I must. It's funny: once you get the adrenaline going, it is so difficult to tone it down. But, it's good to feel useful, it's good to feel the timbre of life pulsing through from time to time.

So, the list, as it is:
• teaching two sections of Literature classes

• getting up-to-date- with my SCAD assignments [well, as much as I possibly can...until my books get here, grrr!]

• getting a Bloody Mary

• getting my thesis rough draft corrected AND green lighted

• not going into shock

• preserving ¼ of sanity

• managing to not get hurt in the process [evidently excusing insomnia and lack of appetite]

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And so, suddenly, the desire to lose myself hit again like a bad craving:

Image by .esc.ape. via Flickr

It could be almost anywhere really. So long as I cannot wait to take another step, and as long as the cobblestones underneath my feet tremble with echoes of history, as long as the rail on the bridge can hold me, as long as I feel sorry for bidding the day farewell.