These are clips from a documentary about artist Andy Goldsworthy, called Rivers and Tides,  which I plan to hunt down and watch in its entirety later today. I was linked to the first video by another blogger, and it resonated with me in a way that I can’t fully explain quite yet.

Until I have the time to create some art of my own, I’m just going to continue to savor this autumn and be thankful for this new seasonal awareness that I’ve never had before.

On the other hand, California’s Proposition 8–which proposed to eliminate same-sex marriage rights from the Californian Constitution–seems to have passed, at least until the absentee ballots are counted in December. I really can’t describe the utter devastation that I, and so many other LGBTQ people, feel right now. Aside from the confusion of what will happen to previously existing same-sex marriages, and how equal rights organizations will challenge it within our courts, the complexity of emotions is rather draining. I feel so proud of our country, and so ashamed of my state. We overwhelmingly voted to increase the life satisfaction of chickens, but were split even when it came to basic human rights. And when you consider that Proposition 4–which would have required parental notification of the planned abortions of minors–was voted down, a decidedly liberal action, the situation just becomes bizarre and paradoxical.

I’m still trying to move past the other, more individualistic impacts this election had on my life. In the last month, I’ve had to delete several blogs from my RSS feed after they participated in excessive liberal-bashing. I’ve also had to  de-friend many people on MySpace and Facebook, after they expressed an ignorance and vitriol that I simply don’t want in my life. Make no mistake, I can respect Republican points-of-view on many subjects; however, I refuse to tolerate people who fall under the zealotry of the religious right, or express outright hate and ignorance. I simply don’t want to know people who post pictures of Obama with demon horns, or who call him the antichrist and a terrorist. I don’t want to be friends with people who claim to represent “true” democracy, while refusing to acknowledge that democracy means everyone has an opinion and should receive a chance at power–not just those who agree with you.

In many ways, I feel fundamentally different. Having never before experienced the sort of seething hatred that I’ve now had directed at me, I’m still struggling with my own feelings of anger and resentment. I’m still biting back the impulse to scream at people, to react to their discrimination and hatred with my own nastiness and insults. But I’m trying really, really hard to channel that anger into something productive. I need to protest, to volunteer, to surround myself with people who feel as betrayed by their neighbors as I do.

I’ve seen many people write that they were going to stay above the fray of politics in their online spaces. I’m jealous of them. I wish I had the option to turn my head and ignore the people I disagree with. It would be so much easier to close my eyes and treat everyone the same regardless of what political places they were coming from. But I can’t. My identity is inherently political, and can’t just be left at the door. When people are discussing my fundamental rights, and trying to determine my future as an equal citizen, they are evaluating my worth as a human being. Deciding that my opinions and feelings are less worthy of consideration, whether it’s because of my sexual orientation or religion or political persuasion, is a decision I am not afforded the luxury of ignoring.

I can tell you one thing: Obama’s election is only the start, and it will take action on everyone’s part to make sure that changes really do happen. We saw that grassroots organizing can have an effect larger and more immediate than any of us might have previously imagined. No matter what happens in my life during the next four years, I can assure you that I intend to be a part of the activism that Obama has motivated many of us to do. Whether it’s the repeal of Prop 8, or more nationally-based issues, if we fight for them, the changes will come. And it’s time they did.

I don’t think any white or straight person could possibly conceive of what it feels like to see so many spaces loudly marked as being against who you are. To be constantly confronted by these “Yes on 8″ signs that proudly say, “No, you are not equal, you do not deserve rights, and you are a lesser human being than I am.” Neighbors, groups of protesters at my school, even friends on Facebook–I’ve seen them all jump at the chance to tell the world that they are against me and my queer brothers and sisters. I feel choked by all of the hate that these people so enthusiastically spew. They are so protected by their privilege they could not begin to imagine what it’s like to feel slowly crushed by other people’s hate for you.

The worst part is knowing that there is nothing you can say to change their minds. That most of those people would never be willing enough to listen, and will never see the ugliness they are bringing to the world. It destroys me to think that those people truly believe they are making the world a more beautiful place by oppressing love. Listening to talk radio, I heard someone claim that the legalization of gay marriage would be followed by people marrying animals and children. To have a person’s love for another person equated to beastiality and pedophilia–it makes me sick, and angry, and sad.

But if there’s one good thing that comes out of this, it’s being able to see all of our straight allies that are standing so bravely beside us in this fight for justice. I have so many acquaintances that I appreciate and respect more now for their understanding and outspokenness. Straights, hug the queers in your life. And queers, hug the supportive straights in your life, and be sure to thank them.

- Applying to grad school is kicking my ass–so much so that I just wrote “quicking” instead of “kicking.” Seriously, there are not enough hours in the day to plan and prepare for everything I need to do and take a full course load that is so reading-intensive. But! This weekend I took the GRE (Graduate Record Exam) after a month of erratic preparation, and I didn’t do as bad as I thought I would. I got a 580/800 on verbal, and a 570/800 on quantitative (not sure on my analytical writing score yet), so I think I’m somewhere between the 80-90th percentiles. My math score is seriously amazing, because 1) I haven’t taken math in 5 years, am bad at it to begin with, and only starting studying for it a week before the test, and 2) I guessed on like, every single question. I’m disappointed in my verbal score, but I blame it on this other girl in the testing center who was seriously pounding on every fucking keyboard key like she was playing goddamn Whack-a-Mole. I lost 5 minutes of time because I literally could not read the questions because she was so distracting and infuriating. But at least I’m done with it.

- So, yeah, grad school! I’m applying mostly to Sociology Ph.D. programs, mostly ones that specialize in Gender and Sexuality. My number one choice is UC Santa Barbara, but I’m also applying to UC Santa Cruz and University of Washington (for Fall 2010, so I can take a year off/establish residency in WA). My back-up is San Diego State’s Women’s Studies MA program.

- My classes this quarter: Social Roles and Interaction, Intro to Criminology, Women, Politics, and Social Movements, and my favorite, Queer Studies and Movements. My professor from that class is seriously awesome, and she graduated from and taught in the UCSB program I’m in love with. But all my classes have crazy heavy reading, and some long-ass papers to write that are all due the same week. So yikes about that.

- In 9 minutes it’s officially my birthday and I’m 22! Yay for old age.

- True Blood is seriously fucking awesome. Go watch it now. It’s my new favorite show, and really the only one I am super-excited to see every week, other than It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and The Office. Dexter, Fringe, HIMYM. . . all very “eh” so far. Even Project Runway has blown this season.

- Oh, but I am also freaking in love with Keith Olbermann and (especially) Rachel Maddow. And I go to sleep listening to Thom Hartmann’s radio show. I’m a total election/economy junkie. At any given moment I have like, a progressive/liberal news needle hanging out of my arm. I’m about thisclose from starting some Facebook drama by calling out the few Republican friends I have; I just want someone to tell me why they don’t like Obama without using the words “threaten,” “freedom,” “Muslim,” or “terrorist.” For reals.

- So much more to say, but I desperately need some sleep. If anyone is curious as to what I’m to up on a daily basis, I’ve been Plurking regularly, and it’d be nice to see more of my friends over there (and if you’re reading this, I consider you a friend!).

That, my friends, is my new Ashford Kiwi spinning wheel. (And please pay no mind to the footprints I’ve already made on the pedals. It’s one of the bad things about always being barefoot.) While I was in the deepest trenches of the sucky portion of this summer, I broke down and bought it. I wanted to spin, but every time I picked up the spindle it was just horrible and awkward for me, and no fun at all. Plus, I was admittedly a bit cranky that most everyone I knew was busy traveling around the world, while I was stuck at home watching The People’s Court and looking at grad schools. So I took a risk and plopped down 300 bucks on the chance that spinning with a wheel would be both easier and more enjoyable for me.

Happily, it immediately was.

I sped through my first yarn, not really paying any attention to technique or thickness variation or twist; I was just too excited to be bothered by the details. I ended up with roughly 80 yards of severely thick-and-thin yarn (we’re talking about super bulky suddenly becoming lace weight, here)–horrifyingly overtwisted, barely usable single-ply yarn.

I’m still proud.

But with my second bunch of roving, I was much more careful. This time, I worked on slowing down and perfecting my technique a bit more. My goal was (and still is, seeing as how I haven’t finished it) a 2-ply fingering weight, hopefully enough to make a pair of socks. I’m nearly done with the first singles, and I have to say that I’m impressed with how quickly I’ve improved (if you ignore the bad lighting):

I took this picture a couple weeks ago, so there’s much more on the bobbin now, and my spinning has become more even, even since then!

I’m loving my new hobby, and I can’t wait until I get to ply my first yarn. So there we have it: the first part of my catch-up series.

Next up: some truly epic stash acquisition porn. Quite possibly the most that’s ever been legally broadcast on a blog before.

- Tegan and Sara, “The Con”

I have so much to say, and so much to show. Not for the purposes of this post, though; right now I’m just going to wrap myself up in songs like I would a patchwork quilt, and try to get my feet back on the ground, balanced. But I’m alive.

Yesterday I cooked a new dish (Chicken Caesar Pasta. . . I was kind of “eh” about it).

Today, I got up early despite not feeling well and continued to force myself through knitting the Damn Baby Toddler Sweater for No One in Particular, it’s Just for Practice so There’s Really No Point in Even Bothering With It. All I have left are the buttonbands, neckband, seaming, and button-sewing–aka finishing. Hopefully I’ll finish tomorrow so I can cast on with the silk or cashmere I’ve been dying to try.

Now back to my essay for this horrible music class I’m taking.  ;o(

Eventually, I’ve come to establish a new rhythm. My day still isn’t conventional: I sleep about 4 hours a night, get up between 4 and 5 am, have a two-hour nap in the afternoon, and repeat. But the most important part of this rhythm isn’t the sleeping; it’s my Daily One Good Thing. Everyday, no matter how crappy and fragile I’m feeling, I do One Good Thing that contributes to my sense of worth and well-being. Some days that’s been turning in a bunch of assignments for my online classes; other days it’s riding 11 miles on the bike. Yesterday, it was successfully baking French bread from scratch and making a baked potato, both for the first time ever. They’re not huge accomplishments by most people’s standards, but they add up to my having a more positive attitude and lifestyle.

So everyday, as best as I can, I intend on updating this blog with something positive I did during the course of my day. These things will be relative, and might be boring/standard behavior for others, but they will always be good for me. I’ll tag this feature as The Daily Good.

Here’s to wasting no time before rebuilding after things have fallen apart.

Late last night, when I found myself bored and still very awake, I opened up Scrivener and just started writing. It was a vague plot that had popped in my head a few days ago, and I only wrote ~2,000 words, but it was very refreshing. I haven’t written in so long, and it was interesting to dip my toe back into that pool. Although today I’m too scared to open it back up and review what I wrote.

Anyhow, I’m done with finals! And I still have nearly two weeks of complete freedom before my online summer classes start, so I’m quite happy indeed.  I have some massive cleaning and organizing to do, and some knitting projects to post about,  but what’s the hurry when it’s so hot outside and my days are long? All in good time.

Perhaps I’ll take a nap for now.

It may seems strange for a 20-something urban college student to be fascinated with woodworking, of all things. And it probably is. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve gained more and more of an appreciation for handmade items. And despite remaining largely unconvinced about global warming (and therefore dangerously compromising my status as a bleeding-heart liberal, I know), I’ve also developed a desire and admiration for the self-sufficient lifestyle. Maybe it’s my bleak outlook on the international geopolitical landscape, maybe it’s the way I’m keeping my eye on 2012 thanks to the Mayans, or maybe it’s just because I’m dirty hippie with antiquarian leanings–but not a day has gone by in the last 8-10 months that I haven’t daydreamed about moving to rural farmland and spending my days tending a large garden, a small herd of livestock, and creating the things I need around my home, be it furniture or clothing, with my own two hands.

It’s one of those strange paradoxes people often find themselves in; though I embrace technology, utilize it constantly, and even lust after its most recent developments, I’m also resentful of its grasp on me, and how much it seems to control the rhythms of my daily life. I’m repulsed by how divorced I am from even the simplest knowledge of how to survive on my own, without the support of a service-based economy. It’s no wonder divorce rates are so high; how can we rely on each other when we can’t rely on ourselves?

Consider this too: I was 21 years old before fresh vegetables were incorporated into my daily diet (and unfortunately, I mean fresh in the fresh-from-the-store sense, not fresh-from-the-earth sense). Though my upbringing is partly to blame (home cooking? what home cooking?), I can’t help but accuse our society of being far too satisfied with its modes of homogeneity and mass production, so much so that the convenience of McDonald’s ultimately deprived me of the simple pleasure of sautéed broccoli and carrots.

I’m sure that I sound very preachy and holier-than-thou to anyone still reading this rant. Truly, I’m not; I think it’s up to every individual to decide how they want to live, and if some people love processed food, the constant buzzing of their cell phones, and think gardening is right up there with “stepping in dog shit” when it comes to having a good time, good for them. But for me, those things lack inspiration and meaning, and so I’ve started to map out the direction I want my lifestyle to head in. Now the only problem is getting there.

What was I saying again? Oh, yes, woodworking. I’d like to try it.