or: how i learned to stop worrying and love the white  space.

my mind is going. i can feel it. i can feel it. my mind is going. there is no question about it.

it's funny how the colors of the real world only seem really real when you viddy them on the screen.

fate had determined that he should leave none of his race behind him, and that he should finish his life poor, lonely and childless.

all work and no play makes kurt a dull boy.

(i'm keeping it together by listening to this song on repeat)

carter, the little sister, finished at yale in may. i flew out, yadda yadda. [1, 2, 3]. however, i just got around to throwing up the photos from it this morning. like i said, better late than never i suppose.

i have about 200 more pictures to get up on flickr, so i will try to throw more up over the rest of the week. some will be more exciting than these even. maybe.

sorry.
the full set of images is here.

hi kids. im really going to make an effort to be a better poster. i dont know if that will happen because frankly, im just not getting the sense of relief or release that i used to get from posting. a lot of that is due to the fact that my father reads this and refuses to stop, and because most of my friends know that i keep this blog and thus i cant discuss difficult situations (generally, relationships) on this site anymore. the things i gain from journal-keeping are not always meant for every person in my life to read, which is what im making available when i post to the web. im not as open or non-chalant as tripp is; i dont feel that my personal life should be an open door to the world. however, i do gain from reading others' blogs and thus feel that perhaps someone could gain something from reading mine…if nothing else, friends gain the ability to know what is going on with my life in general.

i dropped off the face of the earth this summer and i am not sure when i will resurface. it began last semester when i became completely consumed with school. school merged into a month of drinking, packing my apartment and studio, saying good-bye to graduating second years, and visiting tripp in mountain view, along with colleen's wedding. colleen's wedding merged into me staying in san francisco for the summer, which was a series of its own challenges: finding two jobs, living in two apartments, navigating a new city, and beginning a relationship with someone for whom i came to care a great deal. weekends were filled with brunches, visits with my brother, world cup, tahoe, yosemite, and runs by the marina and crissy field. before i began working, i was running five days a week. after i got a job, i became less active. then i dislocated my shoulder in tahoe and became a vegetable. by the time i went to yosemite, i was well enough to go running and life weights at the gym, thought bench press was difficult. this week i did my first push-ups since tahoe. my shoulder still hurts, but it i think i have my full range of motion back.

because of how much has filled my life since january, i have had less time to be in touch with friends. whereas i used to feel like i was the one emailing people to catch-up and say hello, i have become the passive friend. i am hoping the next semester will provide some clarity to my life, my priorities, and my energy and ability to keep in touch with those close to my heart but far from my home. i dont want to be mia.

i am not looking forward to school, which seems to be a general trend among the second years. the last year of graduate study in design at yale is the most difficult and perhaps the most fulfilling, but it is surely the year that provides the least motivation to do well. sure, we all want a great thesis, but we also want to get on with our lives and live wherever we'll live and be with significant others and make money for a change. not just that, but im sure we're all a bit tired of seeing the same 30 people 24hrs/day. three years of that has its benefits — these are surely the best years of my life so far — but it is hard to return to a place where no one is excited to be and where everyone wants to get out of asap.

i do have to remind myself that i am embarking on the most challenging and rewarding year of grad school. i will work with advisors who are well-respected and well-known in the design community and their guidance will uundoubtedly be invaluable. at yale, it seems we all bitch a lot about what is wrong with the program and our professors… yet we're some of the luckiest designers in the country: we pay a shitload of money (perhaps quite a bit too much), but we get to work with some of the best designers in the world. i can easily say that greer allen and karl martens have enriched my world not just through their design knowledge but their personal kindness as well. it's an honor to have karl sit at my desk and help me fight my own demons. it's a blessing to ride in a car with greer and talk with him about virginia and uva and charlottesville and paper-making and his life with books. perhaps i prefer that talking on steady ground (greer was a crazy driver), but regardless, im lucky. it's of course also amazing to work with linda and armand and paul and tobias and matthew. dan michaelson has encouraged me to create forms that i never would've considered possible without his help. these are things i will look back on and cherish… it really is pretty incredible to feel comfortable calling these designers by their first name and to learn from them.

with that said, i can only say that this year will be a challenge. i do not know where i will live when i graduate and i am obsessing over that thought at the moment. i just feel so torn. it is a blessing to have freedom to choose a place to live but it is also a lot of pressure to choose well, since there will be no one to blame but myself if i pick wrong.

earlier this summer, i sat in the jetblue terminal at jfk writing this post. i was sad when i went to california because i was leaving my boys at school and i knew they wouldnt be back in the fall. then, leaving california i was sad to leave one boy in particular. i flew into the same jetblue terminal at 6am and was quite sad to be back on the east coast. even worse, i came home to an apartment destroyed by my subletter (that's another story altogether), and i was terribly frustrated to be in my apartment. now, im leaving virginia to return to CT, sitting in another jetblue terminal, and im sad to be leaving here, sad to be going back to CT, sad to be at an indecisive moment in my life. but these are the things of growth… change has to come if anything can grow or become better or more fulfilling. chin up, per usual. i should recognize this moment in my life as a blessing and not a curse.

im sitting in jfk. its monday at 6.15 in the morning. i board the plane in about 20 minutes. i have found a free wireless network, an anomaly that will allow me to post these words before i get into the bird.

i spent the weekend jetsetting, as i am sometimes want to do. i flew out to nyc on fri and spent the night with chrispy. woke up on sat morning and headed to the city to hang with the fam. my parents were bringing carter back to yale and we decided to spend the day in the city — my parents hadnt been there for something like 30 years.

the short version of the day went like this: brunch on 83rd at good enough to eat, central park, the wtc, the east village/st marks place, times square, rockefeller plaze, the dada show at the moma, then to grand central and the metrolink up the new haven, where we had a late dinner.

sunday was spent touring yale and driving around new haven. its a lovely school, though it reminds me of a pretentious hogwarts. yeah.

back on a train sunday night to chris', where i spent the night and woke up at 4.30am to pack and get back to jfk. looking at time zones, it means i went to sleep last night at 10pm and woke up at 1. my body is going to be so screwed. i havent decided if i am sleeping on the plane or not. but i didnt buy breakfast or coffee.

so, i took a taxi to chris' on fri night. i figured i could splurge to get there, drop the 30 bucks instead of hauling bags all over brooklyn. chris had warned me that the drivers can be dumb — his street is split by a park and its sometimes tough to get to the side of the street you want. but i was moderately prepared and had numerous landmarks to parrot to the driver.

it didnt do any good. he pulled up on the street, letting me know that all we had to do know was fiind the address. this did not bode well. i had called chris once or twice in the cab. this time, i called to confirm we were in the exact wrong place. he agreed and i told the driver.

the driver insisted upon calling me 'my friend' and telling me we were in the right place. i finally got some basic directions from chris and told the driver. he got frustrated and cut off the meter, insisting i didnt need to call chris because we were in the right place. i gave him more direct directions and he pulled out to follow them.

i was trying to be a good passenger. i wasnt angry at all. i was trying to make his life easier.

then his kid called on the cell, on speakerphone, to say hello. this was my chance, i thought. ill make good, take the tension out of this bizarre situation. 'was that your son?' i asked.

his eyes dart into the rearview. 'no. it is my daughter.'

shit. on the speakerphone, i couldnt tell. plan: backfired.

we get to chris 5 minutes later or so. even with the meter cut off, i ended up paying 50 dollars for the ride.

'no, it was my daughter.'

man oh man.

senor cardgage is so cool…