14 days.

In 14 days I will be 23.  Which is probably good, because at the beginning of each year I always start to think of myself as already also being another year older... alas, new year comes and I still have to wait two and a half months.  Well, now it's two weeks.  And I have no plans.  My family will all be out of town.  I don't know if I have work or not, but thinking of having my birthday alone is sad.  There are times that I really regret moving away from California, from a place I had come to know and enjoy.  I am optimistic about being here, in fact I think I mostly like it here, but I don't have the several years of friendship building to rely on here... I have had 7 months, all of which have been spent working.  non-stop.  it seems.  no social life.  There are days that I think I should just quit, that somehow not having a job would fix everything!  Yet, it's actually having a job that has kept me from going completely crazy.  I still haven't figured out this whole "no school" thing.  I have to replace that with something... and I can't just bum around my parents house forever, no matter how much they say and think that they would like me to stay.  There are famous people who were dead by 23, and they were famous!  I feel like my life has barely begun.  I recently acquired a book of letters Van Gogh wrote to his brother Theo, entitled: "Dear Theo" and was intrigued to realize that he was, at the beginning of the letters recorded there, 23, or about to turn 23.  At that point in his life, he seemed very optimistic about his future, but he also seemed to be testing out life and seeing where it might take him.  He was working in a parsonage teaching and preaching, and was underpaid because the parsonage could not really afford to pay him much, but room and board.  He mentioned this lack of pay and how he was looking into situations elsewhere -- man, so much like my life it seems.

I like the idea of 23, because it's older than 22 and another year removed from 21.  Although I don't get it much now, I am still sometimes told I look like I'm in high school.  For some reason I take devilish delight in saying, well, actually, I have a college degree, and I'm 22... (I'll be thrilled to say 23.)  Then I watch as they stand dumbfounded, slightly embarrassed, finally getting out a, "well, you'll be thankful when you're older."  And I just turn away and think about how people underestimate those who appear younger, something which I do not appreciate... and sometimes treat younger looking people like children -- which I also do not like.  I don't know why I like the idea of being older, but I'd much rather age than be the same forever, and though I like the idea of being a child again with far less responsibility than I have now, I do not wish to re-learn all the difficult lessons of growing up.

Like the smell of fresh tea or rain falling on the earth

It seems that a lately muddled mind is fading away. 
The gray is turning bright with sun. 
Maybe spring will be here soon.

I don't know if all my reminiscences really have to do with the weather, with the cold and dark, short days, or not, but I do know that the air isn't as cold and the sun is shining for longer every day, and somehow life is picking up and a smile is starting to dance on my face, or at least the face in my mind.

I've been in contact with ELIC working on an application, but I don't know if that is really where I am meant to go.  I don't feel particular peace about going, and staying is feeling more and more like a good and viable option.  Work is good - I'm still getting a decent number of hours each week despite the slow-down since the Holidays, and I recently was given the opportunity to try my hand at teaching some painting classes there.  We will see how that goes.  I'm simultaneously optimistic and nervous.  There are so many details that need to be worked out, and I feel like all the rest of my spare time will be eaten up, but this is something along the lines of my studies, and I should not let them be in vain.  I would love to do something with my art, but I feel like teaching classes really makes me vulnerable as a person.  Being a teacher sort of displays the teacher's shortcomings sometimes, falling short of the expectations of the students or falling short of self expectations.  I try not to be so chained to expectations and following through with what I believe those to be, but it's hard.  I like being at peace with myself and others, and I like being likeable.  Even selling my art makes me vulnerable.  This fear of how others will respond to me and my work, my lifeblood, really needs to be confronted.  Teaching art classes should help to confront it.  You know, this extra opportunity makes it even more difficult to just leave for somewhere else right now.  I have this constant urge to go-go-go, to be forever new and wandering and never really put down roots and get to know people.  I also have a desire for roots and relationships, but I think I am afraid to actually give in to that desire.  Constantly being uprooted is what I am used to and what has become comfortable, though sad and stressful.

But -- this is a happy post.  Life seems good right now.  My face and heart can share the same tune.  Maybe this is an ok place to be.