I didn't reply to this right away when I got it, but for what it's worth, I cried when I read this. The good kind of cry. Thank you. Also: god I miss you.
There was a movie I got from the library awhile ago. It was called The Art of Creative Living or something like that. It was this sort of lecture video of some lady talking to a room full of mom-types. I don't remember it super well because I was watching it with other people who were not into it at all and we were talking about other things. But one thing I do remember from it was that the lady was talking about how she was so happy. She said she was happy because she crafted and made things for people that she loved and had family dinner and stuff. Though the video was kind of cheesy, it has stuck with me.
Almost two years ago I went through a really dark bad time. Was in hospital briefly and everything. Things like that--making little crafts and baking for friends, etc.--were what pulled me through, actually. So that's a really good point to bring up, thank you. Maybe I'll feel better if I actually start pushing myself back into making things again.
I liked that song. Something I had thought about/realized myself over the past few years--just replace 'hippy' with 'punk' and 'Phish' with 'The Casualties' or something and yeah, heh. I don't even think about genre/identity stuff anymore until I see a streetkid in tight sewn-on trousers and too many back patches, and I smile at him or something, and he just glosses right over me like I don't even exist. I guess part of me still sees myself as the awkward weirdo with a mohawk and 'up the punx' tattoo and bruises all over her body from shows and hijinx, but I haven't been that girl for a while. It's strange to think about.
Oh, Hilary... I miss you and love you and think of you so often! I never told you this, but half a year ago at work I started doodling, and the doodle turned into a picture of you, and I cut it out and taped it up over my desk so I can see you everyday. You are a creative, clever, gorgeous woman and I am confident that you'll find your "fitting hole".
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I believe in you.
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Still love you.
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And speaking of holes, this song by Jeffrey Lewis: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8VsXguWU_o
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I liked that song. Something I had thought about/realized myself over the past few years--just replace 'hippy' with 'punk' and 'Phish' with 'The Casualties' or something and yeah, heh. I don't even think about genre/identity stuff anymore until I see a streetkid in tight sewn-on trousers and too many back patches, and I smile at him or something, and he just glosses right over me like I don't even exist. I guess part of me still sees myself as the awkward weirdo with a mohawk and 'up the punx' tattoo and bruises all over her body from shows and hijinx, but I haven't been that girl for a while. It's strange to think about.
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