Some More Summer

I'm sitting here at my kitchen table!  Isn't it amazing.  Having counters, tables, outsides and a new security.  I love home.

All I can think about is in about a week, when it will get hectic and wonderful.  Club Drage 2008 begins in T-minus 8 days!  I can't wait for just eating eggs, writing on the white board, playing the piano, and sitting at the table together.  I also can't wait to retreat to my room when things get too crazy.  Not that I am predicting a time, but I just want something to happen so I can quietly perform the simple action of just going into my room and BOOM being alone.  I half expect a tiny chorus of angels quietly humming Mozart's Requiem in the corner of Hoops's bookshelf while I celebrate staticky solitude.  

The white board will be a signature of our household--despite it being present in households and dorm halls worldwide.  Every morn, I shall scrawl--with the glorious ease of dry erase markers (don't you just love them)--the word of the day, today's weather, and something creative, like a quote or something.  We're also going to try to memorize a Bible verse as a house every week, so that will be up there for viewers as well.  So exciting.

I am making it a point to write a lot this summer.  Even with this potential...probable...change in major, I can't give up my writing.  All I'm thinking about lately is singing--rather, all I'm thinking about focusing on lately is singing--and then last night I watched "Becoming Jane" and fell in love with the image of writing once again.  The good thing about falling in love with this image is that there is actually substance underneath it that I can fall into, plush, luscious...pluscious....substance.  These flawed--or desirable--notions of pure, passionate love that Jane Austen has recently impregnated me with can be abated by the fact that it's gotten my pen moving again, in a creative fashion, something more than just journaling.  It feels wonderful.

Keep me accountable for my goals this summer, dudes:

-exercise daily or at least every other day

-read---an amazing amount

-write (both fiction and song)

-learn a piano masterpiece

-learn a voice "masterpiece"

-Project Vocab--sticky notes 

-eat healthily

-Season and Trilogy Summer! (Lost, Grey's, Office, Matrix, Indie, Anna, Jones, Star Wars, Godfather, Arrested Development, 30 Days)

-watch the rain on the porch with a silky cup of coffee 

-celebrate beauty, life, earth.

Looking up,

Kaitlin

The Wheel Continues

So here I sit, Memorial Union, encapsulating my title as Student with full vigor and gusto as I blog on my Macbook drinking Starbucks.  Even though it's finals week and I should be re-writing my 10 page paper, I feel the need to reflect on my semester in blog form.

The semester's been full of "issues."  Discovering God for real, re-attaching to my Catholic heritage, getting through a break up, finding a job, making plans for the summer, making an amazing friend Breezy, and struggling toward my real vocation.

The most monumental thing for me has been--and is continuing to be--deciding whether or not to major in music.  Even just typing about it now I tear up--something undefinable about how all my emotions are so tangled up in this one thing, this universal message, this movement of the larynx and vocal folds that enables my one true love: singing--that just makes me cry.  All this semester it's been a battle--The Practicalities Of Life vs. The Passions Of The Heart.  

It wasn't even like I "found" this overbearing love for music inside of me.  It's like...the beginning of this semester, it just casually was there in front of my face, an obvious thing that seemed was always present in my vision.  I mean, it wasn't even a surprise to me that it was there or recognizable all of a sudden--there was no sudden.  More of a milk in the fridge type presence.  Delicious milk of Soul Seekers.

What was the surprise for me was realizing that I could just do music.  As dangerous as it sounds to me, as nervous as it makes me---or should make me...really, all I feel when I think about doing music is the overwhelming urge to cry with relief, the relief that I will be doing something I for sure love that isn't a mediocre replacement that I have to work to love.  

I have set aside the summer to decide.

All I want is peace: peace with being Catholic, peace with Keith, peace with my job, and most of all, peace with my highest inner desires for ever-present music.  Peace with my own will.  

The Wheel

So I guess I haven't decided.

And so it turns.