czolgosz

Top Secret.

2008-02-26T02:27:23Z

All posts are now friends only.
I just feel like it.
Comment to be added.

Productive, sort of....

2008-02-25T03:53:21Z

Did a little ink drawing. Shockingly enough, I actually like this one. I don't think that I ever have really liked anything that I have made for more than 10 minutes after completion. It also set a record for shortest time spent working; an hour and half.

I've been watching a lot of movies as well, A Brave One, Breakfast at Tiffany's, Candy, La Vie en Rose, and Becoming Jane; since Saturday. I have two more to watch tomorrow and 3 more by Friday.

I have realized that I should not have anytime alone to think. Therefore, I have organized all of my time into reading, drawing, watching movies, and High Focus. I think that I'll do better this way. If I have no time to dwell, I won't get so many panic attacks and bad thoughts. Although, I have had a few bouts of agoraphobia, I think that this system will work quite well. Eventually, I will allow myself more time to just daydream, but not in the excessive amounts that I was before.

Another day.

2008-02-23T04:24:14Z

Family session with my grandparents which went relatively well.

My grandparents and I get along fine, that wasn't the problem. It was the therapist who got on my nerves. She kept trying to insinuate that I was lying and bringing up private things that I said in therapy that I thought were supposed to be confidential. I really had to fight back the urge to throw something at her... there was a tissue box right next to me that I was eyeing should she get to obnoxious. She also acted like I was still taking drugs, which I am not and haven't been for over 3 months, except for the shit that they prescribe me!

"Julia had Xanex come up in her drug screen"
Well, no kidding, the doctor prescribed it to me!

Then, I got home and my mom called and started in with how they repainted my room... "such a lovely pink, oh you'll just love it, Julia."

I got mad and told her that it's not my room anymore, so why don't they just turn it into an office or something. Somehow she couldn't understand how I could be mad at the fact that they shipped me off to another state, packed all of my stuff into boxes and repainted my room. She kept telling me that it was a good thing because then I would have "more cheerful place." Apparently now she has taken all my stuff out of storage and rearranged it, discarding what she deemed "depressing."

Oh, of course, I should just be overjoyed!

And, anyway my room wasn't even depressing in the first place. It had light blue walls, purple and green sheer curtains, with flowers. Blue bedspread also flowered, a desk, several bookcases; full books and various odds and ends, my collections of sea shells and rocks, and small figurines. I had one wall completely covered in collage, and the other walls were hung with paintings and photographs done by friends and relatives and random posters and mobile hanging from the ceiling. Yes, the room was cluttered, but that's the way i liked it. The clutter was comforting.

Then I watched Lust, Caution and La Vie En Rose. Lust, Caution was really good and La Vie En Rose was ok, but nothing spectaular.

Also, I got all excited because I looked in the Times today and saw that the Super Furry Animals were playing Sunday and Monday at the Bowery Ballroom. Then i looked on the website and found out that both shows are sold out. I am going to see Morcheeba on March 26, though, so that should be a lot of un.

I used to be like Mariella, I wish I still was.

2008-02-22T03:04:20Z

Kicked out.

2008-02-22T02:36:53Z

It just hit me.
I will never walk home from the bus stop barefoot because I like the feeling of sun-warmed pavement.
I will never sleep in my old bed or take showers in that familiar bathroom.
I will never look out my window at the bamboo and I will never sneak out that window at night.
The blue walls are now pink, my collage wall peeled down.
No more mobile and little figurines on cluttered shelves.
The cat won't wake me up at night by ripping up paper.
I won't trip over the coffee table everytime I get up at night for a glass of water.
My brother won't bang on the wall when I play my music too loud.
No more lying on the floor and painting.
The lamp above my bed that I always bump my head on is gone.
I can't just go into my sister's room when I need to talk.
My dad won't be awake all night on the computer in the living room.
My mom won't be asleep with the light on and the book still in her hands.
Everything is in boxes, labeled, waiting for me to take them away.
Julia's Clothes
Julia's Books
Julia's Old Toys
I am erased from that house.
I can never live there again.
Now where do I go?

Not too shabby.

2008-02-20T03:39:48Z

Slept in.
Went to high focus.
Watched The Woman in the Window with my grandpa.

Oh well.

2008-02-18T23:25:27Z

I don't know.
Just kind of depressed and lonely.
Shitty weekend.

Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf?

2008-02-17T22:58:00Z

Weird movie.
I can't even really tell if I liked it or not.

Stable.

2008-02-17T02:18:06Z

I think that my creative writing days are over. It all just seems forced. Even art, lately.

I am not sure about all of these mood stabilizers. I'm basically happy and I don't get panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, and random crying spells anymore; but I don't really get any extreme emotions one way or another. It's weird, I feel them lurking just under the veneer, but they don't surface. It's just this tightening in my chest and that odd feeling that comes when you are just about to start crying, but don't.

I don't know. They say that I look a lot better and more animated, stable, etc...
But the doses just keep going up. I guess I am used to the mood swings, maybe I will get used to this, eventually.

It's the lesser of two evils, I suppose...

Luna.

2008-02-17T01:59:03Z

Went to the city today with my Grandpa to visit my Aunt Tamara and help with the baby.

Luna is crawling now and getting into everything. I followed her around for most of the day removing hazards. I never realized how dangerous everything is. A baby can pretty much turn everything fatal.

Then I fell asleep on the couch, ordered in Indian food, and came home.

A good day

2008-02-16T00:53:56Z

I had a really nice day today.

Yeah, High Focus is what I expected, but it's nice to have a structured activity every day with kids my own age. They said that I don't have to go to the school part in the morning because it is just a place where the other kids do their homework for 2 hours. I've just been sitting in there and reading, drawing, or writing. I think that I am still going to go early anyway, though. It's nice and quiet and it forces me to focus rather than give way to distraction while I am trying to work. Also, I talk to the teachers when they don't have to help the other kids. Heh, it makes me get up early too.

Today, I had an interesting discussion with a teacher about the difference between invention and discovery. He asked me for a working definition of each. I said that an invention was something that was man-made and did not already exist in nature and that a discovery was something that was created by a man-made process and did not exist before humans. Then, we talked about how things could be a combination of discovery and invention. I presented the question of whether thought was an invention or discovery. We discussed different kinds of thought. I said that absract thought was a human invention. He asked whether or not thought would exist if there was nothing sentient in the universe. I said no. He said that in some schools of philosophy, it is believed that thought exists in nature and that it basically floats around in space passing between us, which is how two people can have the same thought. We just kind of agreed that it is impossible to prove one way or the other and then I had to go to group therapy thus ending our discussion.

Right now, I am reading a book of 40 short stories by Chekhov. He has such a wonderfully dark sense of humor and seems to hate almost everyone so most of the stories are ironic or satirical. I love them. They are hilarious and remind me of Dostoyevsky.

I have also been writing random bits of poetry. I will probably try to combine them into one finished poem. No drawing lately, except for little sketches of the other kids in the group when they aren't paying attention.

I've been listening to a lot of Milburn, lately. Very good band, I highly recomend them.

That's pretty much it.

High Focus

2008-02-14T23:45:19Z

Exactly what I expected.

Another note in the margin

2008-02-13T18:58:08Z

A couple of nights ago, I asked him to describe me in one word and he said 'reckless.'

For some reason that makes me very happy, although I don't think it was intended as compliement.

Maybe you don't out grow it.

2008-02-13T18:47:08Z

Aside from all of the annoying stuff last night I had a really nice dream.

It was just about me and my sister playing like we did when we were little. I'm not really sure whether it was actually a dream or just a memory that I accessed in my sleep.

Anyway, it just made me want to play again. Maybe I actually will today. I still have a lot of my old toys that I couldn't bear to give away. I used to play by myself after my sister got too old to be interested(even though I am the older sister).

So what if I am 18 in a month? I am going to go into my room and play with my toy animals!

Frustration impossible.

2008-02-13T18:25:02Z

Last night, I was very angry and bitter about taking my pills. I got into a big fight with my grandmother after I took them because of my 'bad attitude.' I was pissed and went in my room where I started to cry out of frustration.

Then, the pills started kicking in.

All of my anger started to dissipate. It all just left me and I still knew the reasons why I should be mad, but I wasn't. I didn't want it to, I was still upset. But I couldn't be. All of my rage and sadness just left and I was just empty.

Sickeningly content.
It would have been scary If I could have been scared.

It was the worst feeling(or lack thereof) in the world because I wanted to feel but couldn't.
I had never taken them when I was angry before so it was a kind of wake-up call.

I guess I just never realized what they did.

Down the hatch.

2008-02-13T04:54:23Z

I am sick of these fucking pills.

I have to take them at a certain time. It's what is best for all of us. He has been working with medication for far longer than I have been alive. I hear it again and I swear to god I will fucking strangle him.

Every time I get creative or start to feel at all inspired, time for meds!
Well, I am done.

And god forbid that I protest at all.
"Don't you speak to me in that manner, your grandmother and I don't ask much from you except that you take your pills and act properly."

Guess what?
I am the one who voluntarily started the meds out of fucking desperation.
I am supposed to be the one in control.
Just because I am not legally an adult, they think that they can put one over on me.
Sorry, not going to work.
I mean really, you should know me better than that Grandpa.
If complete subordination is what is expected of me for their hospitality, then I will find another place to live.

It's not as if they aren't getting anything out of this. My parents are paying for all my expenses and a little extra too. They get me out of their hair and my grandparents get a babysitter for my little cousins and a quiet little housekeeper who tries her hardest not to intrude.

I even put on a great little charade for my mother when she visited.
"Oh, of couse, everything's fine now. I am working to get better, Mom, don't worry."
Go back to Florida, pretend that your're happy.
Just put everything out of your blissfully idiotic little head.

It's great to forget. Forget the violence. Forget the insecurity. Forget the drinking. Forget the drugs. Forget the cheating and the lying. Forget the sobbing across dingy diner tables while the kids huddle across from you because we were all too scared to go home. Forget all of the glasses of wine. Forget telephones and broken necklaces. No more concrete. No more choking. No more self-prescibed anti-depressants.
No more eldest daughter, you have such a lovely extra one.
An heir and a spare.
Well, the spare has taken over now, god help her.
Good luck, Arielle, the job looks great in writing; in actuality, not so fucking much.

Brain dead.

2008-02-12T01:29:07Z

Why is it that after recieving praise for something; I never feel like doing it again?

People.

2008-02-10T22:17:27Z

First off, 'fuck you' to Justin who was teasing me about only having 1 friend on this thing. <3

My name is Julia,
pretty much....
I am a 17 year-old, pink-haired, dropout artist chick with issues.
I know, cliche, right? ; ]

So yeah...
Communicate.

Also, I waste a lot of time on myspace, so if you have one, mine is http://www.myspace.com/concreteteddybear

Bonding time.

2008-02-08T19:58:54Z

Last night was really fun.

I went out to dinner with my mom and aunt, then to a play by Bernard Shaw called the The Devil's Diciple. The play was very good and I got along with my mother. Then I got really inspired and started another little picture book.

Today, not so great. Therapy with my mother, self-explainitory. Pretty much...yeah...

Freaked out with another really bad panic attack. I was screaming and crying and in a blind rage, so they escorted my mom out of the room. Then, the doctor was asking me if I could calm down or did I need to be hospitalized. I ended up, crawling into a corner, curling up, and blubbering incoherently.

Fun stuff.

pretty much.

2008-02-08T19:41:53Z

I'm no Barbie jane
I'm not your baby girl
I've done ugly things
And I have made mistakes
And I am not as pretty as those girls in magazines
I am rotten to my core if they're to be believed

So what if I'm no baby bird hanging upon your every word?
Nothing ever smells of roses that rises out of mud
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
It's driving me crazy

Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
It's driving me crazy

Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
It's driving me crazy

Why do you love me
Why do you love me

You're not some little boy
Why you acting so surprised?
You're sick of all the rules
Well I'm sick of all your lies
Now I've held back a wealth of shit but
I think I'm gonna choke
I'm standing in the shadows
With the words stuck in my throat
Does it really come as a surprise
now I tell you I don't feel good
That nothing ever came from nothing, man
Oh, man, ain't that the truth

Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
It's driving me crazy

Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
It's driving me crazy

Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
It's driving me crazy

Why do you love me
Why do you love me

I get back up and I do it again
Get back up and I do it again
Get back up and I do it again
Get back up and I do it
Do it again

I think you're sleeping with a friend of mine
I have no proof
But I think that I'm right

You still got the most beautiful face
It just makes me sad
Most of the time

I get back up and I do it again
Get back up and I do it again
Get back up and I do it again
Get back up and I do it
Do it again
Do it again
Do it again
Do it again

Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
It's driving me crazy

Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
It's driving me crazy

Why do you love me
Why do you love me

Why do you love me
Why do you love me

-------------------------
Except for the part about the sleeping with a friend of mine part...
Unless you and Carl have a secret......

Everything's different.

2008-02-07T02:12:58Z

I love you and now I can't stop crying.

I am so sorry.

Stutter.

2008-02-06T20:00:58Z

I don't know what I am doing or what I want to be doing.

I am so fucking confused.

As usual.

God, I'm such a fucking moron.

Nostalgia.

2008-02-05T15:14:53Z

My old therapist, Dr. Gross, called me today to catch up.

I miss her.

Weird...

2008-02-04T21:55:16Z

My grandfather accidentally stumbled upon my poems which I had on the computer.

At first, I thought I was in trouble because when I walked into the house he grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me in the eyes. He said, "I was going to scold you about leaving the computer on again, but then I read your poems. They are magnificant!" Then, he started hugging me and laughing and fluttering around the kitchen. He kept calling me brilliant, which from him is a huge compliment.

My mother and father have told me that my writing was good before, but I don't really take them seriously. They say a lot of things that aren't true.

I am a little taken aback by his response because I have never seen him react like that. He's never behaved like that towards my art.

I don't really know what to think.
I am glad that he liked them, but it makes me uncomfortable.
It feels weird to even recount this because I feel like I'm too full of myself.
I mean, it's nice to be compliemented, but I never know how to react.

Also, my mom is probably coming to visit from Thursday to Sunday.
I really hope it goes well, but I don't have any confidence that it will.

My backround from my father's side.

2008-02-04T21:33:22Z

This is the family history from my father's side of the family. I knew some of it, but most of this was new to me. I just thought that you might be interested. Also, I think that this version is a lot lighter than actual events.

My dad's writing style got a lot less formal after I teased him about it on the phone. Lol.
---------------

ed was a talented artist and came over on a ship from england at the age of 13. he died at 86 some time around 1980 so he must have been born 1894 and come over in 1907. he was sketching on deck and met a wealthy man from cleveland who recognized his talent. he ended up kind of encouraging ed to go to art school and he ended up getting work in the art department at Republic Steel. ed had the use the rich guy's library and learned to play the violin. he was self educted was interested in mathematics, science, and philosophy. he knew some good book sellers and collected some interesting art books--i'm sure he gave some away to friends as well as other family members but pat has some of them. he was an expert at classical music and had an extensive record collection--in his last house, he built shelves covering one wall that held probably a thousand albums which he incessantly played. he knew all the composers as well as the different orchestras and musicians.

he was a craftsman and made furniture, a harpsichord, and then violas and violins. he had a jig saw, table saw, and a complete workshop in his basement. he contructed ship models. later, after becoming legally blind from glaucoma, he spent two years or more making an exact scale replica of the armor clad sailing ship USS Constitution.which had thousands of copper plates covering the hull and complex rigging. ward has it in his house in Louisiana. he made extensive watercolor, oil, and acrylic paintings as well a lithographs. we have some of the later stuff, but i think he gave away the best stuff that he did when he was younger.

ed eventually became head of the art dept at Rep Steel. he met ruth when he was about 40 and she was about 16 years younger and an art student.

his violin playing was good enough that he played in the hermit club orchestra in cleveland. he and ruth and their friends used to go skiing at a time when nobody skied. they made trips to colorado, including aspen, at a time when skis were 7 feet long, made of wood attached to your boots with leather straps before modern bindings.

ed and ruth had three girls. pat was the oldest, joan was two years young and sandra was about 8 or ten years younger than pat. ruth was a lot younger than ed, tall, about 5 ten, very outgoing and beautiful. pat was a very beautiful girl. ruth and ed had a lot of friends and frequently they had guest at their house for dinner. ruth was always very sharp and witty and made friends easily. ed also was in a artistic and creative field and actively pursued so many interests that their friends were extremely diverse and interesting.

ed and ruth, both artistic, encouraged and educated their children in art but also in music, literature, science, they frequently had parties and people over for dinner, so there was always much discussion of politics, travel, and current events. They traveled a lot and made yearly trips to mexico. ed did a lot of painting down there. eventually pat and joan went down there when they were about 20 and 18 and lived there a few months.

ed was not religious. he loved the philospher Bertrand Russell. he was british rationalist philosopher who first came to prominence at the turn of the century who was particulary concerned with formal logic, which is tied to mathematics. Russell was a prominent intellect of the first half of the 20th century. he is famous for co-authoring with alfred north whitehead, the Principia Mathematica, an attempt to ground mathematics on formal logic. This book caused kurt godel to formulate his "Incompleteness Theorem" which refuted this ambition. Russell was also a social activist who was a pacifist and advocate of freedom of thought. he was initially interested in communism but became disenchanted with the soviet union and the world communist movement. he was peace activist and was one of the initial advocate of nuclear disarmament. in 1950, he won the nobel prize for literature. needless to say, he was an atheist. bertrand russell was definitely ed's hero.

anyway, pat was obviously exposed to a lot of culture. ed taught her painting especially water color. unfortunately ed tended to be jealous of other family members' artistic abilities. he subtely put down ruth's painting. ruth was extremely talented, particularly oil portraiture. i'm sure she knew watercolor too.

ruth's grandfather bernard evans ward was a well known artist in the victorian era in england. he had a successful art school in london. he married a young model the model took up with a married man, a captain in the british army and she ran away with him to south africa leaving his wife. in those days, the husband was responsible for the actions of his wife. the captain's wife sued bernard evans ward and he was financially ruined and lost his school. he still make a living doing oil portraits but eventually emigrated to america to live with his daughter annie who was a reporter for the newspaper in london--i think it was the london illustrated news. ruth was annie's daughter. Red was the illegitimate son of his mother and the army captain and he also emigrated from south africa to america and wound up in cleveland and he and ruth were very close. ruth developed Bright's Disease of the kidneys as a child in cleveland and they thought she would die of it. the family moved to florida which was a swamp at the time, probably in the early 1920's. she ended up having bad recurrent cases of malaria and had to leave florida to go back to cleveland. she was bed ridden much of her childhood. she regained her health and was able to excercise. she became an avid swimmer. she swam regularly throughout her life and only recently give up regular swimming at the age of 95.

her grandfather, somewhat a broken man, lived with her and her two brothers and parents. he still was an artist and taught her painting especially since her poor health kept her confined at home. her graindfather painted some excellent paintings during this time include a oil portrait of ruth when she was about 15 or 16, which ruth has hanging now by the table in her house in mexico.

ruth went to cleveland institute of art. she loved portrait painting. she did a beautiful oil picture of her daughter sandra at 16 years old (which either ruth or pat has hanging.

ed, being older and a successful artist in his own right had a jealousy of ruth's talent and subtly or not so subtly put her down and ruth eventually gave up painting and only took it up again after ed died. pat has one the those bitter memories of her father (just as you have) when she was working on a watercolor of the water and skyliin and ed making a critique picked up a brush and said no you did this wrong and reworked it.

pat liked sculpture and was talented at it. she did a clay mask of pan with a wreath of ivy on his head which is quite good (although for some reason i never liked it much when i was a kid--she probably did it when i was 5 or 8 years old) which she has in her house.

pat still has her sketch book which she made during her two years at cleveland institute of art and after she dropped out when she got married at 20 and had marsha at 21. it has sketches of marsha as a baby sleeping and in various other poses. when i was two are three i got ahold of it and scribbled with a pencil over the sketches on many of the pages, which pat is still pissed about. we were looking through it when we visited last summer and it's amazing how good pat was a life drawing.

I could go on and on... i guess i'll save some for next time

I love you, Dad.