let's pick up from theme sequence

so i was reading over my previous blog entries, and realized that i had written this early in the semester:

And I wish wish wish that you could be here, but maybe it’s better that I’m alone right now.

I’m afraid that that’s because I’m becoming something different, and I don’t know quite yet what that is. I feel like a pool of melted wax, and I don’t really have control of what form it hardens into. Maybe I don’t need to harden. Maybe I can be melted wax my whole life. Able repair broken things. Able to fill in cracks. To mould into any shape. Able to transform and adapt and warm. Able to unclog ears, able to seal letters, to put pretty designs on eggs. To batik fabric, to heal chapped lips.

I think the problem is that I want too much. I’ve been discovering this in my artwork as well. Often I get stuck on an idea, and then it kind of “hurts” to have to change it. If only there was a way to not care. But then I don’t think that would be right either. Maybe my role in life is to care and care, but not care about getting hurt. Maybe I should be malleable wax that can mold onto a surface, and harden, and then crack, and then melt again. Maybe it doesn’t matter if I’m always cracking. Maybe I should suck it up. I want to be happy, but… hm.

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I think what Regan said about the first part of the semester was about looking out, and the second part was looking in, and how i was better looking outwards. Well I knew that too. I felt better about life, I wasn't as moody or stressed out, I was completely in love with everything. The second half was harder for me, I started missing people, and I was more used to Italy--the traveler's high had worn off.

More later, but I just thought I should write my first ever my-own-art-blog entry. yay!