Alternative: Philadelphia in the Wake of Springtime

The morning arrived as crisp, yellow sunlight through the tall, lofted windows. I stretched my arms, nudged Kyle with my foot, and sat up. Courtney, Kyle’s sister who we were visiting, was rummaging around preparing the rest of her paperwork to finalize her wedding. We stumbled around, folding blankets, sipping coffee. We intended to drive back to Matawan early–Kyle planned on completing an essay; Courtney had a lunch date with their mother. I somehow convinced Kyle to just try and do his work here, at the loft, and within a few hours, he finished!

I made delicious cinnabutter pumpkin-spice pancakes with a side of blueberry Chobani for the two of us. We scarfed it down. The lighting from the windows beautifully lit up our breakfast! We got ready and began our journey.

The trees have bloomed here! I couldn’t believe it; I was ecstatic to see the magnolias and the daffodils and the precious, soft, newly-bloomed leaves! Slowly, this urban landscape was becoming colored by nature. We walked along the Piazza, this side of town is apparently the up-and-coming area, the Bushwick/Williamsburg of Philadelphia. The Steel Factory lofts are in a considerably alright part of town, open lots of grass with a bit of trash, stray cats, lots of parking, strange buildings. Kyle and I walked the Piazza and ended up at PYT Burger!

We both ordered PYT Burgers and a side of cheesy tots. Mmmm cheesy tots. God I love cheese. (I’m having a whiskey sour as I type, happy St. Patrick’s day!) The PYT burgers had “special” sauce on the bun, medium sized burger, a large, crisp slice of tomato and lettuce, and a side of chips! Apparently, within the restroom of PYT, there is another door which actually leads to a club and bar at night. How cool is that??

We went to The Foodery afterwards to find a movie-set being filmed outside. The Foodery is a cafe-beer store that sold mostly craft beers individually. Kyle was like a child in a candy store. We got these DELICIOUS Walnut chocolate chip cookies, Hercules Double IPA and a bottle of Leffe Brune. Delicious.

We explored Fishtown and the area by Courtney’s loft. There were grow-your-own parks, a children’s park, fences painted with giant flowers. Kyle and I took cool pictures of ourselves around there.

 

 

 

 

 

There was a chicken behind one of the fences! Such a strange surprise. We walked along, enjoying the sun and the reams of people and children roaming the city.

THIS IS REAL! The garbage bin yells at us! I stumbled upon some interesting street art, and captured those too.

Doors that lead to falling, abandoned buildings. Infectious vines on cement walls. Stickers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our day was coming to an end.

We had dinner at Sampan Philadelphia. A high-end, pan Asian restaurant with smaller portions and higher quality food. We ordered edamame dumplings, pork buns, kimchi fried rice, and Korean BBQ. It was all incredibly delicious. We walked off our full tummies, heading back to the Piazza to check out El Camino Real.

In the end, we escaped the crowded bar scene and spent the rest of the night watching The Office and America’s Funniest Home Videos. I’m glad I gave Philly a chance. It’s a city with a lot of potential, and I can’t wait to get back.

Mountains can breathe?

There are lungs and red veins that glow and make his insides glow, too, and the filaments that line his esophagus are reaching out to something, to touch and welcome new visitors that come sliding down, making a grand entrance into a bottomless and excruciating system. find themselves on the peak of the mountains in hell.

Wait
(for the oxygen)
(for the evening when i’m flying)

i’ve lost all will to fight and draw
bandage the scabs and leave the flaws
to fester and burn and turn everything into flying fish.

——————

This house is debilitating. Absolutely debilitating.

fireworks

Twenty-five

So there it is. A new twenty five.
I went to the P.S.1 gallery with Kurt and Patrick yesterday, later meeting up with April. I’d rather show it to you.

I’ve started The Picture of Dorian Gray. I like it so far. We’ll see.
Visited the high school today. Made me wish I could visit my teachers in a more sensible place, like a cafe or a bookstore. I’ve decided to keep my hair long–for now.

art is hard

In AP Lit we’ve been working on our final project: a creative writing / art book that we are dedicating to someone (or yourself.) I work on it maybe five to six hours a day. I’m putting my soul into it.

Danielle, I think she’s ranked fourth or fifth in the class, says today, “Wow… Ms. T, I can’t do this. I’m not artistic. I’m really bad at this.” So on and so forth.

I thought about it in silence while I did my art and I came to the conclusion: She probably has never been given this opportunity to actually work on a work of art. It’s a grade–but it’s different from writing an essay or taking a test. This is art. She has spent all of high school absorbed in force feeding herself notes upon notes and frying her brain at 4 a.m. and has never explored her soul’s creativity.

Then when Danielle left, the room was silent. Ms. T started to say, “You know what I was thinking? Danielle probably has never been given the chance to be artistic. How could you say that you’re not artistic! You have a soul!! I mean, c’mon! It’s sad…”

And I chimed in and completely agreed with her.

Another thing i’ve noticed:
When the ‘really smart’ people (Top 10% of the class) walk around class to casually glance at a piece of work i’m working on or Allie’s working on, they would compliment our art like we were Picasso. They sound like they are completely and utterly inferior to our abilities. There is such longing in their voices, such envy. They have spent four years of high school forcibly memorizing so much information, input, input, input and when it comes time to paint their souls on paper, they don’t know how to.

Ms. T said, “And Merideth works so hard on her book. So hard. And yet–it seems like she is unable to fully express her creativity. As if she’s just fulfilling the requirements, trying so hard to just get the A. They’re both missing the entire point. I mean, what’s living life without knowing how to express yourself?”

I feel bad for them but at the same time I wish they could find the same passion and creativity that I have found. I wish they knew that they possess the same wonder and color in their souls too. I wish they knew that they could die tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next.

Claire’s Walking Gallery

I’m finally holding a real live, put-together photo shoot this Friday. :)
Here is my chain of thoughts I scribbled down (in Rita’s room):

• Girl putting make-up in mirror, not using her own hands, someone else’s arms around her applying make-up.
• Use ocean/fish shower curtains as backdrop
• the clashing between black& white and color. 2 girls, one wearing vibrant colors, the other in entirely black and white, literally fighting.
• Black & White is then stabbed with a paint brush
• tea, smoke, steam
• painting bare trees in the winter
• mirrors reflecting the sky
• hole in a canvas, look through and up to sky
• Static electricity / electric fields
• bodies hanging out of car windows, I stand on top of the car looking down
• pages of a coloring book
• cd-rom masks
• umbrellas adn rainboots
• Sun and Moon
• draw and cut out large paper skylines, line up and take photo from above.
• colored paint on hands, empty room, leave hand prints everywhere. Subject stands there innocently, hands behind her back, paint dripping behind her.
• Pillows, asleep on the ground.
• Purses opened and sprawled across an open field, someone climbs out of purse
• human turn table
• String and colored hats hanging around
• donuts hanging off branches
• Nude top, paint dripping down sides of body, hands across chest
• Tree orchard
• magnifying glass

Anyone takes my ideas I will personally murder you in your sleep. Thanks. :)

Yeah so i’m getting three (maybe four) friends and we’re going to scavenge for really obscure and random objects around our houses and i’m going to bring my tripod and my car and we’re going to go everywhere and it will be amazing! I might have a gallery afterwards, a walking gallery…

I’m really excited for this. Really, really excited.

When I get restless, I know it’s that time. For a fact.
Today was Lolo Emong’s 40th day (meaning, his soul will depart tomorrow.)
We feasted and had fun and spent time with family.

However, I was not feeling very people friendly. I just wanted to sit outside, by myself, and breathe in fresh air. I am moody. I called Jun because.. he makes me feel better.
But the good news is that when I think of all the recent happenings, I get butterflies and smile to myself. This is a very good thing. Usually when I am caught not knowing what to do, I instantly throw myself into neutral territory to try and cancel out all feelings to prevent myself from getting hurt. In that process, I ruin my feelings and emerge hollow. Like nothing ever happened. In this case, I almost rendered myself neutral until I talked to close friends and realized that being involved but not being in a relationship is a good thing. I still don’t know what to make of it, but what I told him that night will still prevail: Going with the flow and ending up where ever it takes us.

It’s only been 19 days since I’ve known he existed. It’s so strange. There were times when I wanted to go out there and meet new people, hoping to find someone, and the one day I decide to tag along with my friends to get special pizza in a new town, I meet someone who completely altered my present life.

It truly is strange.

I AM OBSESSED WITH FLICKR.