And What?

Oh hey, I have more ink. One like this:

and one like this:

the top is an ampersand in Georgia font, representing a few things to me. 

1) I love typography

2) Georgia could use some homage after growing me up

3) Sometimes, I need a reminder to write.

4) There's always something next. An "and." You can ask "and what?" while you don't know what it is, but you'll know soon enough. You're always living the answer to the last time you asked.

5) I like people to know that I like and have tattoos. That's more of a placement reason.

6) I enjoy it. It's my new favorite.

the bottom is part of a piece sketched by Charles Gibson in 1902 called Of Course There are Mermaids. She lived simply on a calendar I bought at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where the original lives. She's the month of July, to which I flipped and never left. She represents a few things to me.

1) Calm

2) Beauty

3) New York

4) My resolve to go through with things I love without over-analyzing them.

and this is my new wall collage:

[I'm a fan.]

what else to tell you.... I read the first book in the Hunger Games trilogy. It was a page-turner, but I don't intend to finish the series. I'm still reading Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. I'm slightly disappointed. I keep hoping the chronology of what causes her grief will yield to her account of living with and moving through the grief, but it rarely does. I respect what the journal of events is to her, but I find myself distracted. I think I keep reading it because I don't like what it says about me that I want to abandon a work (a National Book Award winning work, at that) that attacks a person's grief the way they see fit. I've decided to join her. To see it as fit.

I feel like a time bomb again. I believe I have successfully suppressed my anxiety by naming it and therefore regaining control. On the plus side, normal emotions are more prevalent lately than the episodes I'd been fielding. Interesting--I guess I'd taken "happy" and "sad" for granted until now.

"Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got til it's gone..."