Tchotchkes (a peak into my room)

tchotch·ke [chahch-kuh] noun Slang.

"an inexpensive souvenir, trinket, or ornament." -- dictionary.com  

While cleaning my room today, I began dusting my bookshelf. I picked things up and moved them, and then moved them back, and then I started thinking of all the places I got my tchotchkes from, or the people who gave them to me. And I realized how awesome it is that I have these things-- not because I'm materialistic, but because each item holds a wealth of memories.
I love my grandfather for many reasons. He's really my step-grandfather, but he's been more of a grandfather to me than anyone. He's a great man. One of the things I love him for is that his house is exactly what I want my house to be someday. It is filled with tchotchkes-- great and small. Perhaps I shouldn't use the word tchotchke, because it can have the connotation of worthlessness and cheapness, which many of the things in his house aren't. He's got a huge painting from Vietnam of a mother and child that I absolutely love, he's got an old painting of a cow that he got from an auction years ago, he's got samurai swords and marble hippos and a cowbell collar and a real hummingbird nest from his backyard, he's got a massive hornets nest hanging from his ceiling, he has gorgeous stained glass windows, he's got masks and old sports photos and and and... I love the eclectic decorations in that house.
And so I suppose I have aspired somewhat to amass a collection of my own, but I'm not quite there yet, because, well, heck! I don't even have my own place yet! 
But I thought I'd share what I do have anyway...

My bookshelf. My my, how many ponies can you spot? And yes that is a giant book of SPACE on top of it. I like space. *squinty squinty* What else can you spot?

Glow in the dark pony! Okay.. honestly, I can't remember where I got this. I just know I've definitely had it for quite a few years. Its awesome, because, GLOW-IN-THE-DARK!!!

Jar of DIRT! Oh wait... no, not quite. Its a jar of sand, sand from a beach in Maine, specifically. <3

High school stuff, I got an award for Art in high school, its about the only cool thing that happened to me in high school. -_-

This one I got from my dear friend Dogert! :D I love it so much, makes me want to visit a mystical forest of massive trees and magic and glowy lights and get lost forever.

My grandpa gave this to me! I was an easy child to please, give me anything horse related and I was basically guaranteed to cherish it forever. Now that I've had it for several years though, I'm starting to wonder just where this thing was made! It definitely looks foreign... I should do some digging maybe.

Another art award I got for a jack rabbit drawing! And a painting that I got from a yard sale for like... super cheap, several years ago.

Got this from Maine... It smells like pine trees <3

A chunk of horse bone! I got it from the pasture of the stables I used to hang around.

I do have others, but these are some of the ones I've had the longest. :)

WHY I love (and why you shouldn't make assumptions)

The other day at school, one of my friends ran into an old high school buddy of hers. They stood chatting for several minutes, while I half-heartedly listened. At first they talked about the normal stuff, 'Oh, I haven't seen you in forever!' and such, then their topic shifted to what everyone else from their high school was doing, 'Do you still hang out with blahblahblah?' and slowly, slowly, they began a rant on everyone who was getting married and having babies and such.
Well, they seemed to feed off each others similar anti-marriage sentiments, and it quickly escalated. Basically, this quick high-school reunion became a full on TIRADE against girls who get married young, while their still in college. And I'm just standing there, looking around, slowly realizing that--hey, wtf? I've got a ring on my finger here! Of course, I don't say anything. I just stood there, looking at the trees, until finally my friend must've realized who was standing next to her. "Oh, except for Bewildermunster, she's getting married but she's got her shit together!"
As if that was alright, as if that fixed it. Well, I didn't say anything then and I'm not going to, but it irked me. The more I thought about it, the more it bugged me. Like a rock in my shoe that just hurts worse when I reach down to adjust my shoe.
I'm tired of being the 'exception'. I don't want to be an anomaly. I hate broad generalizations, I hate narrow-mindedness, I hate shallow people, I hate judgmental people, I hate people who have to constantly be surrounded by drama.
I'm getting married this summer, I'm 21 years old. This is my life, my journey, and I have chosen who I want to share that journey with. We are young, but this life is short, just a wink of time in the universe.
One of my other friends, Chickadee, has been with her boyfriend for longer than Doom and I have been together, and she's always talking about how great it is that we're getting married, she's always looking up cute wedding things and all that crap, she's entirely romantic and cheesy and blah blah blah, but when I ask when she's getting married she dismisses it right away. She's so worried about the future, so worried about what others think, so worried about the fact that she's living in her mothers house and she's gonna graduate with debt... She's too worried about things that I find to be trivial.
I'm not saying one should just through all caution to the wind when it comes to marriage and relationships, but one thing is for sure: Don't pay any mind to what other people think.
Another friend that I knew back when I first started talking to Doom freaked out when Doom and I started dating. I'm sure there were underlying problems in the relationship, but her inability to accept my happiness led to the dissolution of our relationship. She basically asked me to choose, her or Doom, and I chose Doom.

To each his own

My group of friends seem to think Doom and I are perfect, they think we have sex like rabbits and feed each other cake and buy each other cute things and never fight and have the exact same interests. Of course, that's horse shit. We have our ups and downs. The reason we're getting married isn't because we have everything worked out, it isn't because we have this grand scheme, this master plan for our lives. I don't know where we'll be in 10, 20, 30, 40 years!

All I know is that I want to be with him. I cannot ensure this, but we sure can try. And we're both willing. And that, I think, is the most important thing.

To tattoo or not to tattoo

I'm not much of a tattoo fanatic. I currently don't have any, I'll appreciate a nice one when I see one though. I've pondered in the past about getting one, and sometimes I'm pretty certain about it, but other times I realize how indecisive I am and I just don't see myself getting one.
If I did get one, I'd always figured it would be something that I drew myself, but when I think about exactly what I want, I have too many ideas floating around in my head and realize you shouldn't try and shove all that into one permanent image. Especially if you can't even sort it out!  I like hares and jackalopes, and I don't know why. I also like stars, and space, and trees, and and and.
I also kinda like "THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE" from X-files, even though I typically don't like word-tattoos I haven't seen every X-files episode ever, which I feel is kind of a pre-requisite, right? I guess thats why I'm pretty 'meh' about tattoos based on shows/games/movies/cartoons/etc., but as long as its not completely silly I'd be fine with it. Which leads me to Doom, who wants some kind of a video-game tattoo, and he seems to want one soon.
Will I ever decide? Stay-tuned!
Maybe after watching Doom suffer through the pain, I'll finally decide.

Don't make me resort to my lasso...

Is there a way to force optimism to surface? To coax it from the shadows? I mean, it's there, it certainly is. I feel it sometimes, the optimism, the breathless excitement. That feeling is soon overshadowed by pervasive worry, fear, and the feeling of being a turtle crossing a highway.
When did I become such a worry-wart? I used to tease my parents and grand-parents for being worry-warts. Uh oh. Is it genetic? Did I get it from my parents, who got it from there parents, and so on? Am I doomed to days of shadow, followed by moments of sunlight?
I think too damn much. I do. I've got a lot of processing capability in my brain, and instead of putting it towards something productive, I waste it on trivialities and truths that can't be known. I read too much sci-fi; I want to know the future. I want to sift through the millions of possibilities, pick one that leads to something good, and do it, knowing that things will be alright.
How are some people so care-free? The future to me is a looming storm; lightning-charged and heavy with the unknown. I can't help but look at it. Maybe others are blind to it. I need blinders.
I'm restless; I've got this annoying trait where when I think of something that needs to be done, I want to do it NOW. It is annoying to those around me, and frustrating for me. What do you mean we have a month to get this done; let's just do it now! Of course, this trait has its uses when it comes to schoolwork and applications and such, but life isn't academia, unfortunately.
I would say I need a vacation, but I don't think that would help. I need calm.
I need to say: hey, is that the optimism that I see sometimes? Lemme lasso it, put it in a jar and keep it in my pocket.

The door's wide open

I can't say for certain yet, but I'm pretty sure at this point that I want to pursue a masters in biology, instead of going to vet school. There are many reasons behind it, mostly concerning what kind of life I want to have, and my interests. I guess, after working at the animal hospital, I could see that small animal isn't for me. And considering small animal medicine is like 80% of the profession, I didn't want to risk being 'stuck' doing something I didn't enjoy, especially after 8+ years of education and an accumulation of ~$140,000  worth of debt. Doom and I aren't overly ambitious with our lives, we both just want somewhere that we can live (with trees, and seasons, and for Doom: internet) and maybe have a kid (waaaay down the road, lol).
I still love biology, and animals, and I know I can have that and more without a DVM. I think I'll enjoy research, the idea of being in a laboratory appeals to me.
So... there it is. I don't know where my sudden decisiveness came from, but I've been pondering the question, on the fence, unsure. I feel better about my future now, even if nothing's certain yet.
I may apply this winter for admission to the fall of 2014, I may not. We'll see. The door's wide open.

I wrote about being unsure previously, with links to articles here.

The best laid plans of mice and men... (Looking into the future of vet med)

In recent months, I've explored other aspects of the veterinary profession besides what they do, and I can say that what I've found is depressing. It already seems nearly impossible to get in to vet school, and on top of that you throw in the fact that after you graduate, you may not have a job?! More vet schools are starting up, which sounds good for a prospective veterinary student, but when I read what others (fellow bloggers, veterinary news articles, etc.) I realize that new vet schools are just adding to the problem of too many vets, not enough work, not enough money. I'm terrified for me and for Doom... He trusts me enough to say he'll follow me wherever I go, with whatever I'll do, but that just places more responsibility on my shoulders. I don't want to drag him down. I've read that an appropriate amount of school debt should be as much as your starting salary after graduation, but with vet students graduating on average with ~140,000+ in debt, with starting salaries of ~60,000, I must say I'm scared! And I don't think I'm overreacting either.
I'm reaching the point of my life where there is no one that can say, "Just do this and this and that, and you'll be fine." I have to make decisions on my own, do my own research, pick the path of my own future.
Right now, I've got a plan, but you know what they say, "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry."
This semester, I've made the decision to apply the summer of my senior year instead of this upcoming summer (of junior year) which means I'll be adding another 2 semesters of classes while I apply. I'm hoping this will give me more time to take some good, upper-division bio classes, as well as raise my GPA and hopefully get into some research! But it was a scary decision to make. I'm a pretty indecisive person to begin with, but now that I feel like each decision will haunt me for the rest of my adult life... I can barely think straight.
My friends are encouraging and supportive of course, but somehow, when it comes to your own future, "Follow your dreams" doesn't sound like a good enough answer. But since I don't have a crystal ball, to some extent I do just have to close my eyes and leap...

Some insightful links...

• Veterinary student debt continues to climb

• More vets in Alaska?

• An economists opinion on the veterinary profession

And related blogs that I follow...

• From Dr. Bern's blog...
• Dr. M's blog...

And I found this since I'm interested in large animals...

• No luck for large animal vets too?

Students who hate their major

I always see students who hate their major, and it makes me sad. Why commit 4 years (or more!) to something that you despise? I feel that those kids who are biology majors just to be called "Doctor" somewhere down the road should either reconsider or at least change their attitude. I'm not saying you have to love everything about biology, but as a future doctor, don't you think you should appreciate the foundations of the field you hope to become a professional in? (I know of one kid whom I believe is doing it only because his parents are making him!) Personally I love biology. I don't love everything about it-- I find the molecular stuff to be a major headache sometimes and genetics is also difficult. But I always appreciate it, even if I don't understand. Quorum sensing? Sounds complicated, but how cool is that?
I've seen pre-med students who hate anatomy, have no interest in microbiology, etc. These subjects at least seem to have a lot of relevance to their field!
I tend to have blinders on sometimes as far as my major goes-- I hate my general requirements, suck at math, I'm bleh about chemistry, but bio I just adore. So perhaps that reveals a flaw in my own character. But hey, I would have taken art classes for fun but they are expensive, take up time, and I'd have to start at the beginning with 3 hour long beginners classes! I've resigned myself to letting art be a hobby.
My favorite bio-related subjects are ecology and evolution, which we touched on in my general bio 2 class. I adore learning about the variety of life, the similarities and the development over life's history. However, since that class I've found I enjoyed microbiology and I'm currently enjoying cell physiology!
Here are some neat critters I enjoyed learning about back in the days of gen bio. :) 

I'm a bookwyrm

I love 'em. I've always loved to read. I thought I would be an author until I was about 14 or 15. But I don't get to read enough with the price of books and the lack of time (I keep meaning to get a library card... hmm, I should do that). But anyhoo, I recently read Relic by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. Good read! I thoroughly enjoyed it and I surprised myself by getting spooked by the setting and the terrifying creature! But more than anything it made me want to visit a museum and do other fun things that people with money and time are able to do. *sigh* Someday! But right now Doom & I are tight on money so we have to be some kind of conservative with our funds til things become steady.

Burden

Sometimes knowing things about yourself and others, without being able to share the burden, can be completely unbearable. It really does eat away at you. Its hard to come up with rational conclusions on your own. I'm grateful for the friends that I have, but when I can't even share with them, I'm glad I have Doom. Opening up to him lifts some of the overwhelming feelings off of my shoulders, and lets me think clearly. It's not easy, sharing your deepest darkest secrets, but it feels so... purifying. The more I hold something in, the more it rots and festers, but the instant I let it out, I can see that it isn't that bad, in the end. It helps me realize that I'm not perfect, nor will I ever be, but its okay that I've made mistakes in the past.
I know now that bravery, confidence and strength stem from being calm in the face of things that terrify you. I can't be so afraid of everything that I stop trying. Its a good thing Doom is so much calmer about things, he balances me out. I can be such a spaz.
So where did this post come from? I've recently learned a horrible story about a friend that would crush her if she knew. But it's something that happened so long ago, that I'm not sure bringing it up would change anything, or if it would change EVERYTHING. Either way, I swore to Doom that I wouldn't say a word. Because the situation is complicated now.
Besides that issue, I've been dealing with stress lately and I've recently spilled my guts to Doom about some things from my past, and I feel better. Strange, but better.

Yikes, I'm 20 and I still don't feel like an adult. I guess growing up is about being honest with yourself, and messing up until you figure it out. At least I know I'm never alone.

The Untold Story of The Dog

I just read a recent news story titled "Las Vegas Family Dog Kills Baby"and it makes me sad.Yes, the story is tragic and I feel bad for the baby, and the family for their loss, but I am even more sad about the untold story here: the story of the dog.
As we all know, thousands of years ago dogs were domesticated. Humans took them into our lives and our homes, we bred them for what we wanted and needed, and as such they are completely reliant on us in our human society of suburban homes and swimming pools and parks and traffic and laws that they cannot even comprehend. There is a truth about dogs that I feel people overlook: we must take all responsibility for them, their actions, their behavior, the consequences of everything they do. If you take a dog into your home, from that moment on that animal is YOUR responsibility.
So, they say the family dog had never done this before, so they say that that dog and that baby were friends of sorts, but they take this at face value from the family. It is easier to say, "It just happened" than to take the blame for it. Perhaps the family was ignorant of dog behavior and dog training. It is possible to not know Fido as well as you'd like to think. Having a dog means having a relationship with that dog, and relationships take work. You don't just take your brand new puppy home and expect him to be that perfectly behaved pooch you've always wanted. But being ignorant is no excuse, it is still your responsibility as an owner to educate yourself of everything about your dog. People too often get pets without realizing what it really takes. These are no toys that we are taking home, they are living breathing animals with complex behavior!
The family's description of the dog is no sufficient history for this dog. Where did they get the dog? How desensitized was the dog to the baby? What kind of training methods did they use? No one asked these questions for the dog, whose humans abandoned him for a mistake he made... and now he will die.

I am not claiming to know what the family did to and for the dog, or to know why the dog did what he did, in the end all I want is for people to see that if we don't start asking questions, animals will suffer. What will anyone gain from this tragic news story? A fear of mastiffs? How helpful is that to the world when we could take home a lesson on behavior, training and the human-dog relationship?
Perhaps we should look deeper into our "best friends" rather than taking them for granted.When I showed this story to my good friend (and if you read her blog you can see that she is deeply interested in dog behavior and is also VERY well-read on the subject), Dogert, she shared her opinion on the subject:
"There are ALWAYS signs. Always. Even if there is an underlying medical condition there are signs that are either being forgotten by those who don't care enough to record and inquire, or ignored.
The scenario most common to dog attacks is this: dog and child are "playing" and dog gets tired so gives a tiny warning growl. This is what dogs do, they communicate. Parents take this as a sign of aggression and scold the dog. Now, dog thinks of the child as causing bad things to happen, and unsafe because his people won't protect him from the stressful baby. So dog suppresses his communication and leaves when things get stressful. However, baby starts becoming mobile and no longer can dog escape so easily. What is the dog supposed to do? Sit there and take the abuse from a pulling pinching hitting child all day long? Dog thinks he has to protect himself. Ironically, this dog is a bully breed relative. Such breeds have temperaments specific to be tolerant towards humans. Again, there were signs. There were probably lots of signs. They were either ignored, forgotten in the tragedy or through neglect, or the owners didn't bother to do anything to learn what their dog was saying.
Second issue appears that this dog had no bite inhibition. Bite inhibition is obtained when a puppy plays with other puppies and learns to control puppy's mouth. Teeth are sharp so when puppy bites siblings or parents they squeal and stop playing. This is no fun, so puppy learns not to bite so hard. Bite inhibition is often destroyed by well meaning but ignorant owners who scold their puppy for biting. This teaches a dog to suppress opening it's mouth in the first place, but does nothing to teach the pup that its teeth hurt, which is the reason. In more mouthy puppies, such constant scolding can cause the puppy to become defensive or simply confused as to the humans behavior, and encourage a lack of trust. Puppies taken away from their parents too soon also develop limited bite inhibition, which can be encouraged by the intelligent owner but there is no substitute for a mom and siblings communicating in your own language.
It all comes back to the parents. They fostered a house of ignorance and mistrust. They did not look for or see the signs. Their child's death is tragic, but their own fault. Perhaps next time (if) they get a dog they will not be so negligent. Personally this kind of thing happens so often, I do not find the human-dog relationship to be so often loving and happy as propaganda implies."

So close... So far...

I feel this way about many things...

Happiness

Some things make me so happy...
Music; Death Cab for Cutie, Regina Spektor, Coldplay, Goo Goo Dolls, The Postal Service, Bush, The Killers
Art; watercolors, acrylics, pens, pencils, cameras
The Universe; Carl Sagan, stars, galaxies, infinity, s p  a   c    e, Earth, sunrises, sunsets, plants, animals, biology, mountains and forests and streams and deserts and meadows, James Herriot, evolution, tolerance, logic, beginnings, endings, and all that's in between
The Little Things; tearing up during a commute cause a beautiful song comes on the radio, trying out new things, sushi, road trips, big love, hugs, knowing you're not alone, blueberries, mangoes, sitting outside on a lounge chair just enjoying the sunshine, things that remind you of beautiful beginnings (Closing time, open all the doors and let you out into the world...), coming home to my dogs, the smell of old books, friends, laughing at everything and nothing (like at midnight when someone won't stop singing horrible rap songs in your ear and you're so tired and annoyed that all you can do is laugh, hysterically), Breathless excitement for the future, moving forward, biology textbooks
Oh, and Doom <3 (I know who I want to take me home, I know who I want to take me home, I know who I want to take me home, take me hoooome...)
What makes you happy? :)

Surprise Tongue-Thingies

So I saw a post on reddit about plica fimbriata. They're just little danglies on the bottom of your tongue. (They may or may not be rare? Not a lot of info on them.) Creepy, amiright? I think its funny that I've had these things all my life and only just discovered them.

Completely random post, nothing else to say here. :)

Fear Itself

I have realized recently, that I have a fear of death. Not for myself really, but for the people around me. The more I care for someone, the more I seem to think about the worst possible ways to lose them. It makes me clingy sometimes, it makes me sad, and it really is just unhealthy. The topic of death does not scare me-- when it is about something far removed from me. Stories of the atrocities that exist in this world don't illicit an emotional response from me, however up close and personal, I can see the details and they scare me. Those eyes that stare into nothing and yet pierce through me simultaneously, the unnatural contortions and the lost consciousness... Where does it fade, as the chemicals stray from their normal routes and the beating mechanics stop? Is there a fine line, a last thought granted, or is it a gradient of unawareness? It makes me feel insurmountably weak when I think of coping with the loss of a loved one (my beloved dogs, for example). People deal with loss all of the time, and yet I fear it so greatly that I continuously push it to the back of my mind, I refuse to think about it. And yet it is still there, lurking in the shadows of my mind and there is no way to just get rid of it. Its just another way I bottle up my emotions, and the weight of these hidden emotions are crushing. As overused as this quote may be, I find it fitting at the moment: "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."- FDR
To put it simply, I must not fear, especially because of my interest in veterinary medicine. Those in that career deal with tragedy on a daily basis. I must clarify, of course, that I do not think of myself as weak for having emotions and caring about the longevity of the animals and humans around me, I just think that I must learn a new way to deal with my emotions so that I may not be weak in the future. I should really learn from my dogs, and Doom, and learn not to worry about what could happen, and instead enjoy what I have. (Like spring break!)

Death is just an inevitability, a recycling back into the universe which birthed us, from womb to earth to molten hot star.  There, not so scary now, is it?

Down

I've let myself down, and I'm left feeling hollow and tired. It's always followed by panic, and fear, and self-loathing. I can't lose sight of my goal, I can't be tempted by distractions and procrastination. I learn this lesson over and over and over again, sometimes I fear I'll always make the same mistakes. Each semester seems to have a pitfall, where I somehow end up lost and behind where I need to be. I've hit this semesters pitfall. If I can come back from this, I will, I promise myself that I have to try. Reality is sweeping down on me like a backhand, soon I will be on my own, and then there isn't that safety net to fall back on. I feel like a child, and the giants of the world, the achievers and dreamers and sprinters, are rushing towards the gates that I want so desperately to enter. Breathe, I can do this. Breathe, I can bounce back. Breathe, because worrying won't lift me up the way hard work will.
Staring at the statistics and the requirements I have to reach- or surpass- makes me feel like I'm leaping through rings of fire, hoping not to get burned. I never thought of myself as really smart, or overachieving, and suddenly I have to be those things, and more. But I tell myself I'll do whatever it takes, no matter how scary.
So I flubbed a few organic chemistry exams, all I can do now is to learn and move on. I admit it: I stopped taking the challenges seriously, but I won't do it again.
Since I'm currently running on 3 hours of sleep, I will now go and finish up my homework so I can take a nice nap come back, hopefully feeling less down about it all.

Who am I?

Who am I, you may be wondering, this Bewildermunster, with her incessant babble and endless flow of useless pictures and art? (or am I wondering who I am?) I'm not who I've always been, and I don't find it unreasonable to be someone else after twenty years on this planet. I still love animals, and nature, that has never changed, but now that love has grown and melded with new loves for science and art and love. I am not so concerned with negativity, and argumentation, and opinions. 'To each his own,' I think, and sometimes say, now. Not that I'm a bubbly personality, I can't deny my introverted nature. But those closest to me see how happy and crazy I can be. Especially Doom, my other half, my partner throughout this latest section of my life, and hopefully throughout the rest of it. I have a goal, that seems so distant and difficult that sometimes I feel I might just quake with fear, and sometimes so attainable I want to grab at it like a child at a candy store. I want this goal more than (almost) anything. I want to be a veterinarian. I go to school, and love the biology courses I take, but I at least try to see the beauty in other subjects as well (as mind-numbingly hard as organic chemistry and math are.) I live in the desert, and though it sometimes swallows me up, there are worse places to be. Like places where I can't have my dogs, or Doom.
Are these words not enough to explain who I am? Let me reveal to you my treasures:

My bookshelf, jam packed with games and movies and horse figurines, jewelry and photos, remnants of my past, and more current belongings as well. 

 (part of) my wall, a map of the world cause why not?, some art, a calendar, my bulletin board with random things. Yes, my walls are pink, a decision I now (kinda) regret.

 A journal I have kept for a few years. I fill it with strange dreams that I have, I find it entertaining, and it helps me forget nightmares, like extracting them from my brain and locking them in a notebook.

 Feivel, sweet goofy Feivel, who might just be as in love with Doom as I am. My second dog, my baby.

Titus, quirky, loud, the "old man". My first baby, my soul-dog.

Admittedly, I am not so concerned with discovering who I am as simply being who I am. I do enjoy the occasional attempt at classification though. So there it is, here I am. A post for those who might be wondering.

Inspiration, a fickle beast

Sometimes I feel like I'm just bubbling over with creativity, ideas swim through my head, distracting me from everything else. All I want to do is to grab some paint and GO! In lecture, I'm constantly doodling, wishing for paint instead of pens, canvas instead of lined paper. It's such a downer when I can't actually create something, when life just gets in the way and there's nothing to be done but hope those ideas stay locked up safe, ready to be used when I get my hands on some free time.
But I feel like its even more of a downer when I've got the time, and the desire, but the inspiration is just blocked, dammed up somewhere or just gone altogether. I just started a rather large acrylic painting on canvas, and while it's still too early to judge, I'm scared its going nowhere. I'll just have to challenge myself and take my time with it. It'll be a process as I don't have endless time right now...
Hopefully in a few weeks I'll have something to show for it.
Wish me luck!

On Organic Chemistry and Poetry...

Orgo is a cave,
Ahead is only darkness,
Oubliette of minds.

Contemplative

This blog is just a collection of pictures of my dogs, my best friends. Animals mean more to me than most else in this world. I love their lack of humanity, their pureness, and innocence, and wildness. To me they act as mirrors, reflecting my flaws back onto myself, teaching me about progress and development, giving me chances to change. Without them, I would feel claustrophobic in this populated world of ours. Their reactions to their environments speak louder than words, for they are a product of this earth just as we are, I sometimes think we forget that.