this past wednesday evening i had the pleasure of hosting the monthly book club dinner&discuss. it seems to me that i had stopped entertaining in the last years of being in my old apartment and i didn't know it, but had forgotten what joy and definition it brought to life. i stopped entertaining mainly because my old place had literally become a studio and because the walls seemed to be closing in so very fast. when i moved i was fortunate to give away and let go of so many things that cluttered my living and working space. i found in entertaining my friends the other night, that there was beauty again in the things i had decided to keep. dishes aren't usually something you can do without, obviously. it just felt nice to have a reason to use them and to appreciate them. i felt more appreciative of the fact that my guests came, than of what i thought i could offer by entertaining. mainly it just did me some good.
i also feel, in some respects i had become a little odd. in the sense that, hanging anything on my walls was something i feared doing. an absolutely maddening fear of driving in the nail and being so stubborn about it, even after inviting my mother over to help me take the step, hammer and measuring tape in hand. the fear sounds ridiculous to me. but it's over for now. i am not going to hang anything else for a little bit longer. oh and plus you'd think as an artist i'd have been given a free ticket ability to hang art, not a chance. the idea(s) are there, the desire is desperate but the skill&love is gone.
my only cooking mishap of the early evening came when i burnt something i was frying on the oven to a crisp, to a smokey, almost fire alarm sort of crisp. fans and doors flung open, i started over and won't ever ever try and fry bacon again, probably. it's not especially a meat i eat and secondly it's just not a cooking or frying me kind of thing. whatever freaky, split second thing happens in a pan, right before the whole of bacon stripes go up in flames, i have no clue, the science is something i'd like to leave in the lab, with a big fire extinguisher. and yeah, thankfully, for some fortunate reason, no lurking burnt bacon smell in my apartment, no waffle house odor lofting about, just a little garlicky around here. i am seriously ready for spring, i mean come on, all i want to do is show winter the door. leave the doors and windows open and not have winter re-invite herself back in for eight months.
if this has not been the long hard cold winter, i don't know what is, weathermen forecasting flood watches and snowfall, they only wish, chattanooga never sees the likes. if i'm gonna have to cozy up, i mine as well make more and more art. hopefully will finish ::telemachos thoughts:: tomorrow. until then, best weekend wishes to you all.
my apartment living and feelings are crumdgy, snobbish and particular, to say the least. mother can testify to my recent particulars, a list of complaints about any of the new neighbors, the peep hole sightings, their unknown loud sounds and voices, slamming doors, of an ever growing neighborhood. my four story neighborhood, my apartment living. mother asked me to share in this perspective, "won't you be my neighbor? daughter, neighbors are a good thing, don't you know", she said. i am decidedly not sure. i have no idea what to think. i want to feel like my four story neighborhood is all mine and that everyone moving in must adhere to my apartment living ethical guide, as if i've written the book and it actually exists. i am finding it seems i may be quite wrong in my particulars, that i am rather funny about making friends with people who live across the hall. except, i have no earthly idea what any kind of dorm life experience would be like. because this apartment life is what i can only imagine dorm life must feel like. so, i am as friendly as the simple hello and have no other clue. the other evening as an unseen neighbor seemed to be moving in, i followed a path of their belongs from the apartment building entryway door all the way to the door to the apartment next to mine. i thought to myself as i followed the path, leading me to my own door, that i was seeing, literally, all that this person possess. surely, i may be quite wrong, i thought to myself, my privacy must mean too much to me. but yet i am sure i could not leave my things out like that. is it really real, a bright shiny brand new golden brown bike with a bell, left. are neighbors that trusting. should i be that trusting? regardless. 
i envy the people i know who spend their days domestically. and not because i feel the need to be all that domestic but for this simple reason, the afternoon light. i come home each late afternoon and any particulars i have about neighbors is flooded out by the immense amount of light beaming in through the windows. today i took a multitude of photos just because everything seemed just a little bit prettier and at five o' clock, it is quiet in my neighborhood because i think all the others have gone for happy hour and i just want to be in the light not in a bar. i seriously wonder if any of my other neighbors would appreciate the light in our neighborhood like i do. i mean, really, how important is the light? the quiet warm radiating light. if for the light i might actually be friendly and forget about my hermit-like list, just to ask a neighbor about their light. may be i ought to be the neighborhood light investigator and begin the process of actually being a good neighbor to my neighbors, by asking them about their light. oh brother, i am beginning to feel a little quarry-sheepish. so it's good night light. good night all. apartment resting.
