Pencil Shavings

WHAAAA?!

Things keep going downhill and I don't know how to stop the ball from rolling!!

I think a few lunchtimes in the library should fix it.

And seeing all the art, photography, and graphics folios being hurriedly finished around me makes me wish that I had chosen different subjects. All this maths and science is finally getting to me after seven months.

What I would give to be able to use my creativity without thinking its time wasted. Ah, to get out my pencils and watercolours, and sit at my desk just letting my thought-process explode onto the page.

Year twelve is a bitch.

I just wish it would be my bitch.

-xx

Kawabunga

I want to be here in the sand, sun and surf...

Images can be found on deviantart.

-xx

"Sorry, Lost My Place.."

When I sat down to write this blog entry, I had a little trouble trying to figure out what I wanted to say. I've been through so much in the past week or two and to fit it all into a reasonably-sized post is just too hard.

I wish I had time to get myself organised. There's so much whizzing around on my plate that I'm physically breaking down in the effort to keep it stable.

About a week ago I went to a conference in Perth, and there we debated such things as refugees, discrimination, people's rights and freedoms, and what I could do as a youth in Australia.

It quite literally blew my mind.

To be surrounded by 86 intelligent and bold young people selected from all over Australia and New Zealand, and to engage in these sorts of discussions really made me stop and think every night, "Who am I?"

And every night I just didn't know the answer to it. I'd just sit on my bed in my room and stare at nothing, not knowing why I was in such an amazing movement of young people. I almost felt like an intruder there.

In our state delegation meeting on the last night, everyone went round and said what they thought was the best thing about the conference. When it came to my turn, I had to stop a moment because I was getting a little bit teary.

You know me, I especially hate getting teary and never to do it.

I thought something like a near death experience would be what it took to shake my belief in myself. I was so sure of who I was going there, I had formed opinions and solid friendships, and I knew where I was going in life.

But how unbelievably wrong I was!

I'm changed forever, and who would think that a simple series of discussions with like minded people for a week would do that.

I have a new direction. I have a new motivation. I have a new perspective. I am a new me.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Be inspired. Do more than what is possible.

- xx

An Imprisoned Freedom

What did Professor Higgins call Eliza Dolittle again? Oh, that's right, "you brazen hussy".

"Why is thinking something women never do?
And why is logic never even tried?
Straightening up their hair is all they ever do.
Why don't they straighten up the mess that's inside?

Why can't a woman behave like a man?
If I was a woman who'd been to a ball,
Been hailed as a princess by one and by all;
Would I start weeping like a bathtub overflowing,
Or carry on as if my home were in a tree?
Would I run off and never tell me where I'm going?
Why can't a woman be like me?"

Just kidding.

Getting comfy? Good. Here's the program for today.

Entrée of nerves, main course of incoherence with a side dish of fidgeting, and a wholesome dose of embarrassment for dessert.

I got up in front of 1500 people today and spoke with no notes or nerves. And yet I can't do one thing that matters.

I leave you with the high point of my week;

friend: "What was that you said?"

me: "Samantha Stoser is out of Wimbledon."

friend: "Oh, football...."

Smart chicken..

-xx

Image courtesy of ~tyt2000

Prologue Of The Cigar Divan

Found a nifty little book in a nifty little book shop in nifty little Maryborough.

It opened with...

"It is within the bounds of possibility that you may take up this volume, and yet be unacquainted with its predecessor: the first series of New Arabian Nights. The loss is yours- and mine; or to be more exact, my publishers'."

And then it continued to say some very profound things, all which were highly modern in thought...

"It depends," replied the salesman, withdrawing his cheroot. "The power of money is an article of faith in which I profess myself a sceptic. A hundred pounds would definitely support you for a year; with somewhat more difficulty you may spend it in a night; and without any difficulty at all you may lose it in five minutes on the Stock Exchange. If you are that stamp of a man that rises, a penny would be as useful; if you belong to those that fall, a penny would be no more useless. When I was myself thrown unexpectedly on the world, it was my fortune to possess an art; I knew a good cigar..."

"Fall to be a working man?" echoed Mr Godall. "Suppose a rural dean to be unfrocked, does he fail to be a major? Suppose a captain were cashiered, would he fall to be a puisne judge? The ignorance of your middle class surprises me. Outside itself, it thinks the world to lie quite ignorant and equal, sunk in a common degradation; but to the eye of the observer, all ranks are seen to stand in ordered hierarchies, and each adorned with its particular aptitudes and knowledge. By the defects of your education, you are more disqualified to be a working man than to be a ruler of an empire. The gulf, sir, is below; and the true learned arts - those which alone are safe from the competition of insurgent laymen - are those which give his title to the artisan."

- The Dynamiter, Robert Louis Stevenson and Fanny Van de Grift Stevenson

I think this Mr Godall is more than he seems.

- xx