Thursday, June 15, 2006

no title, just thoughts.

I started dusting the bookshelf when my husband left to take the dog for a walk and by the time he came back I was standing in the middle of the room with it completely pulled apart and a silly grin on my face.

He said: "Wha......?"
I said: "I don't know...I was dusting and the next thing I knew..."

I still don't know what happened except that now it feels good and smells like chocolate candles. I've been doing all this work for other people and a I guess it finally hit me that my own life needed a little re-arranging. As I vacuumed, I tried to figure out why I have that need--the compulsive/impulsive need to re-arrange rooms. I answered myself: "because I'm a traveler who hasn't really traveled and this way I get to be somewhere new." And the second thought that came to my head was that my mom re-arranges stuff maybe I learned it from her (and that's that)...or maybe she has a traveler heart also, but just never traveled. It's amazing how many layers you can peel back and still reveal only mysteries while you vacuum a 3 foot patch of burgundy rug--the Asian patterns like clues into your own psyche, yet giving no real answers to anything.


Afterwards I watched a good movie--Me and You and Everyone We Know. The movie is, according to the blurb on the back of the box, a "poetic and penetrating observation of how people struggle to connect in an isolating and contemporary world." Vinny pretended that he didn't like it, but I know he did because we've been talking weird ever since it ended.

What I liked most about it was the character of Christine, a performance artist (ok--but I'll admit, I like any movie with an artist in it--but this one was especially nutty and good). She made me wish that my art was even more at the center of my existence than it already is. She made me wish I was brave enough to wear socks on my ears in department stores, to write with permanent marker on my shoes, and talk to myself more often.

Sometimes I feel stuck in my own there's a whole entire incredible universe that I have not yet discovered...that my much-to-conventional mind too often limits me from tapping into...a wonderfully surreal world that is right before our eyes and under our feet.


Di Mackey said...

I loved this post ... I used to rearrange the furniture and have dogs, now I travel and live in other countries. :) so perhaps you are right in your theory of rearrangement.

paris parfait said...

Jessie, like wandering woman said, I'm a traveler who has frequently lived in other countries. And I constantly rearrange our apartment (within confines of the limited space), because I get bored with everything being the same. I've found that I need constant change - even small ones - and to visit new places, otherwise I get depressed. So I can understand your need to rearrange and change and look at things in new ways.

Anonymous said... I want to see that movie...maybe we can watch it together when we finally meet (hint, hint).

I know exactly what you mean about wanting your art to be more in the center of your life. I think that's the core of what attracts me to bohemianism...the idea that your work is central, and everything is organized around it.

And it's fun to rearrange the furniture...both inside and out!

erin said...

yay! i'm so glad you liked that movie - i had a hunch you would. so tender. i love the scene where they're walking down the street and equating it to a relationship, or the pink shoes, or, or, or... yeah. did you know it's one of my favorites?

melba said...

I love how I can ompletely relate to everything you write.
I haven't seen a movie in a long time (that wasn't animated) but maybe I will come across that one.
Today I started sweeping the floor, but I ended up pulling the couch apart and vacuuming every inch and coming across about 15 blocks, a barette, a quarter, and a pair of mimi-hand cuff from I have no idea who.