[after a long argument about society and my idealistic nature]
"You'll be disappointed with the world," he said to me as I patiently sipped my coffee.
I looked up and smiled.
"All it takes is a change of perspective. The beauty of idealism is everything is possible. You have no limits; no boundaries. Happiness is actually attainable... With realism, you oftentimes set yourself up for disaster, especially emotionally. And, when things fail to turn out the way you had hoped for, rather than moving forward, many dwell in their dilemmas... drowning in a pool of negativity."
"You're going to realize this whole world is a mess..."
"I already know, sir. This world is certainly a mess... a beautiful, unpredictable mess."

and I walked away.

Anonymous

Just finished reading an article from The Guardian about a woman by the name of Kate Monro collecting the stories of many individuals and their most vulnerable moment - losing their virginity. A fun little read; however, what caught my attention was the snippet of her project:

"I was in college, working at a bookstore. I had a key and often worked late at night and this meant that I and the girl I loved had a place where we could go and be away from our roommates. To say that I loved her would be a pale word. I savoured her. Every angle, every facet of her mind and her words and her eyes seemed to infuse me with an energy that I had never experienced before.
One night, late in the dark store, after talking about Joseph Conrad novels, we kissed more and more deeply, and everything began to spin around me; all the square angles of the books and shelves blurred like a cartoon as I removed the lace from the curves of her body. We were laying on the floor between shelves of old books. I remember how her heat surprised me. I remember how her legs felt when they moved up around my ribs. I remember something she whispered to me — a whisper I sometimes still hear at night. I remember playing with her hair afterwards, as we lay together panting and hot. And most of all I remember the feeling much later, as the sun was rising and we left the store. She was wearing my coat. And everything in the world was different. I noticed it instantly — as though everyone had been speaking in a foreign accent and now suddenly switched to my own."

Beautifully written (and executed)!

"...as though everyone had been speaking in a foreign accent and now suddenly switched to my own."
Ah, so good.

'tis all,

-Mon

Art Show: San Deigo

This Saturday, July 17th, the Museum of Contemporary Art in San Diego will be celebrating the opening of Viva la Revolucion: A Dialogue with the Urban Landscape!

Looks to be a really interesting show. Unfortunately, the price tag of 20 dollars is a bit much for a soon-to-be starving college student and, not to mention, there is a limited supply of non-member tickets.

With that said, if you have nothing to do this Saturday from 7-10 and do not mind spending 20 dollars to see some killer art and meet interesting people (also, enjoy a DJ set by Shepard Fairey) then check it out!

Website here...


Até mais,
-Mon

Cal

I guess it is safe to say that I feel prepared for everything now - this whole moving up north and leaving my whole comfort zone behind thing.

Berkeley has so much to offer as a whole and the individuals that thrive there have an unmistakable brilliance resonating both inside and out.

I am intimidated, vulnerable, and thrilled.

Thrilled to be a part of a vibrant community.
Thrilled to be a stranger in a new land.
Thrilled to be amongst a sea of cutthroat competitive students.

Thrilled to, finally, just breathe out and live.

-Mon

Artist: Jean-Michel Basquiat

Colors and confusion
angst and angles
breathless yet alive.

Plunging down the spiral of life and enjoying every waking second of it.
Visual stimulations
body contortions
and the air, to remind us of our vitality.

Tentative vitality?

Colors.



Choose:
Hold on



or




Let go










.......
....
.


.
.


..
.






.



!




Now what?

-Mon

Artist: Burgess Franklin Collins

A Little Fable

"Alas," said the mouse, "the whole world is growing smaller every day. At the beginning it was so big that I was afraid, I kept running and running, and I was glad when I saw walls far away to the right and left, but these long walls have narrowed so quickly that I am in the last chamber already, and there in the corner stands the trap that I must run into."

"You only need to change your direction," said the cat, and ate it up.

-Franz Kafka

-x-x-x-

The world is as big or small as you want it to be.

-Mon