Pajama Empress

I saw Sex and the City last night.. very happy.  I practically waltzed out of the cinema, speaking in that terribly lofty, self-enchanted way that Carrie does. It was fabulous.

I loved the way that the characters aren’t so Austenesque anymore – they’re not looking for love at any cost, they’ve found it, and love isn’t the absolute everything that they expected it to be. It can break, it can hurt, it can be everything you thought you always wanted but not be what you actually want. Oh, there were so many things I loved about the film.. obviously, it had problems (Charlotte and Samantha lost out in terms of storyline) but I can look past them for how fabulous it was.

Apart from that, I am a busy little girl – the list of things to do today and tomorrow includes painting and collaging a matryoshka doll set, cutting and stitching together felt flowers, varnishing a whole bunch of chiyogami slide tins, making at least one paper sculpture, getting some prints made and doing some watercolour/ink drawings. My business plan is coming along nicely, but I’m suddenly acutely aware of the fact that it needs lots of colour and lots of photos. A black and white size 12 Arial plan could suit a black and white size 12 Arial sort of business; mine is more like some whimsical font you’ve never heard of, in all kinds of sizes, using every colour you can imagine too.

I am busy, and I am happy, but it’s strange.. I suppose it’s what Charlotte felt in the film last night. Everything is going so well and there is so much promise for the future; everything is coming together. But I am petrified that it will all fall away and I’ll be back where I started. I keep having bad dreams; so bad that they sew seeds of doubt in my mind that linger and fester and can ruin the mood of an entire day. Last night’s dream was particularly bad, because it seemed so real. In the dream, I walked along the track that I always do, and the wind was just as rough as it is today; I walked under the bridges I always do, and over one, and I noticed a car parked near where my bus stop is. Inside.. something not very nice was happening. There was confrontation, nastiness, and it ended with me running back to Sebastian’s house and then feeling like, “What am I doing here? This isn’t my home.. I have no where to go..” et cetera. The dream was full of this feeling; where you feel like your world has been pulled out from under you, and the things you have hesitantly let yourself become vulnerable to turn around and stab you in the heart.

So, triangle thing! That’s the only thing I can think about to stop it from getting bigger. Eating a mandarin helps too – there is something so calm and contemplative about peeling it and eating each segment individually.

Enough. This has been so unproductive.