I’ve gotten pretty great at working within a budget, not wasting money on frivolous things just to fill an imaginary void.
Loren has counseling today and on the way home he’s going to buy me a hair clip I’ve been thinking about for 2 weeks but haven’t bought because $10 seems insane for something so small. He’s also going to buy us disposable cameras to capture these fleeting moments and temporary states that rule our reality.
I love to look back, with love, and I’ve found that proper documentation helps to keep me from irrational nostalgia.
August 11th is the start of birthday season in our family- beginning with Sigrid and ending with Loren on December 1st. My youngest sister is the only one with a stray birthday, all the way in April.
September 5- me
October 1- Danielle
October ~7 - newest baby
October 30- Fitzroy
November 8- my dad
November 29- my mom
December 1- Loren)
I love this time of year because I selfishly love to give gifts. I’m slightly obscene with it. I outdo myself every year, not with the amount of money spent but with the level of thoughtfulness and love. I pick things that speak to me, things that have meaning. Wrapped with love and care in carefully chosen thrifted wrapping paper. A love letter is always included, hand written and at least 2 pages long. My dad cries every time.
The more I think of it, I realize that I’m an artist. Not just through what I create, but how I do it. Sometimes my medium is paint, sometimes it’s my clothing, sometimes it’s sentimentality. But it’s always creation with a desired effect, it’s always art. I am always an artist and a masterpiece all at once.
To live life as though it were a grand gesture, a monument to existence.
I love being here more and more each day.