I was experimenting with the Free-write/mind dump idea for brainstorming, and this is what came out from writing for 3 minutes. Thought I'd put it on here because it might just burn the page in my notebook if I don't dilute is through mechanical reproduction:


My story is my own, why should I share my most cherished memories and painful past experiences with you, a faceless stranger? Why would you want to listen to a story of an anonymous wannabe? My family's problems are none of anyone"s business, my memories are my own to keep and judge.
The proper office of a university is to teach me and prepare me intellectually for the career I choose in the world. Not only that, but to help me reveal myself as a worthy member of society and to help me aid humanity in my own subtle way/ What could you possibly have to do with the fact that I like grapes, or that I'm an immigrant, or that I stil sleep with stuffed animals?
My experience with diveristy, you say? The first time I saw a black person I was 7. He was a student from Sudan. I was interested. He seemed like a character from an exotic fairytale to me. After that, the next black people I saw demanded that I call them 'African-American' instead of Negro, and they were yelling at me in an unfamiliar language at the Immigration Control desk at DIA.
How's that for awareness of diversity?
And Ukraine is a country where they speak Ukrainian and Russian. Not the 'Ukraine language' as my high school councelor called it.
I hate hypocrites, prudes, and helpless people, and it seems that the world is overflowing at the rims with them. It seems like you want me to be one of them, to show you my cards just so you could judge me worthy of your university, to complain abotu my struggles and to praise my own accoplishments.
What does the fact that I will study History of Art hate to do with the tears I've shed from loneliness, cruel words, betrayal, disappointment, pity, self-doubt?
I say it like it is.
No.
I do it like it is, that's why this college application essay is so hard.
Why waste words?

After going to the high school again to drop of transcript requests (and get yelled at by the zombie counseling office staff for no reason), and asking Dr.Fleet and Mr.Umbach for Teacher Evaluations (haha, Fleet told me to come by today after noon (to pick up my diploma which he stashed away from me), and I did, but guess what? He wasn't there. it's like extended essay all over again, and now I have to make the 50 mile trip to see him again, major phail. I spent like an hour looking for him) I felt a surge of enthusiasm for applications and Subject test studying again.

Taking a break from filling out numerous college applications, I decided to clean out my drawers, and guess what? I found the little notebook in which I kept my travel notes from my trip to Europe last year!

So, as I sat down with my 20oz cup of black tea, to read over it, I had an urge to post it on here. Ready for this? Of course you are.


Vienna
-2+2 wan equal 8 in this place, they live in some different dimension because some of the things they fit in this city shouldn't work out because of physics. For example a 2m wide road can fit 2-way traffic, 2 more lanes of parked cars and pedestrians. How can they do that?
-The hotel elevator is the size of a small airplane toilet, that's why there are no fat people here, they're all stuck in small elevators.
-Awesome concierge, imagine a flamboyant bald man picking up the phone and and practically singing "HALLO, CONCIERGE" with a french accent.
-no air conditioning anywhere except for the Kaiser burial site, which is a little disturbing, the only people who get cool air here are dead.
-A lock of hair from Napoleon's site in one of the palaces is a little off, I can't quite place my finger on it, but there's something unnatural about a lock of hair from a 3-year-old boy that has survived over 100 years, they probably lost it and replaced it with hair from one of the old curators.
-The whole place smells distinctly of cigarettes and coffee, which I love, but how can they stand the two in 100 degree weather and 70% humidity?
-An old Russian HoBo in a wheelchair offered my mom and I his umbrella, former Soviets FTW.
-I don't think anything is ever destroyed here, new things are just built in the spaces between buildings, or added on to old buildings, a gothic-styled house can be adjacent to a neo-classical style, which can be connected to one of the barrack-like structures left by the soviets when they were hanging out in Vienna.
-Everyone travels in pairs here, couples, guys with a friend, girls with a friend, grandmothers with their grand-offspring, mothers with their spawn, no one is by themselves, and no packs of giggling girls.
-I just noticed that the boys are really cute, the temperature may be doing things to my head.
-lots of couples making out, birds and bees...
-St.Stephen's cathedral has a large square before it, today there was a breakdance competition in front of it. To me, this is Vienna, a 13th century, majestic cathedral, and a modern dance competition all in close proximity. This is why I love Europe.
-The oldest church in Vienna (est. 1039) is surrounded, and almost engulfed by bars and nightclubs.
-I love cemeteries, especially in old cities.
-Bikes, horses, cars, motorcycles, scooters, streetcars, buses, and people all share the same street, and as far as I know, there's no roadkill yet.
-Ah, the famous Blue Danube....is a little less Blue now. kind of murky. with three-legged carps.
-"What's all this electrical stuff, dad?"  I ask rhetorically
 "Oh hey, I've been needing a hair straightener here, my hair can't cope with all this humidity!" My mom exclaims as we head towards the electrics store in one of the busiest shopping districts in Vienna. We suddenly feel my dad grabbing our upper arms and pulling us both back.
"Look up." we do, SEX SHOPPE the sign reads.
"It looked a lot like the apple store to me" my mom says in a less confident voice, as we start walking away towards our next great adventure I feel a need to ask
"What was that thing in the picture with the...." I'm interrupted by my mom telling me to not ask.
-"The Biggest Gay Community in Europe!" the brochure boasted. We discovered ourselves that that's true. i don't think my dad will ever fully recover from the emotional scarring.
-Ah, we got caught in the biggest thunderstorm of the century, lucky us. I was wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a tank top. It was so bad that trees were being knocked down by the wind and rain.

Salzbourg
Lots of Mozart everywhere. That's pretty much it. I mean it was a cute town and everything, but not much.

Munich
The birthplace of the Nazi party.
-Very strict and boring looking. The architecture is so plain it makes me think they were greedy, but that's just the style in Bavaria, I guess.
-They tried to hide the main square where the Nazi parades and the book burnings took place by breaking out the flowers. haha germans, haha.
-More rain.
-The former SS and Gestapo went to work at the museums, so evil.
-The headquarters of the Nazi party were destroyed during WWII, but they rebuilt it. And made it into an art school. Anyone else find that extremely ironic?
-One arabic man + 4 women in full muslim attire. and they had kids. major culture shock for yours truly.

Neuschwannstein-the cinderella castle
-Ludwig II was a cooky crazy man.
-had to walk uphill for like 30 minutes to get to it, but the views are breathtaking, too bad he never actually lived in the castle.
-So Ludwig wanted to build a medieval castle, so he found a good spot on a mountain, but on the mountain right next to it there was already a medieval castle, an authentic one. He said that one wasn't REALLY medieval and built his own. gotta love crazy people.
-There's a telephone in it! from like mid-19th century! The village that my grandparents are from still doesn't have a phone line, and he had a freaking telephone!
-My mom and I were a little disappointed to not find any gnomes in Tirole...

Lichtenstein
-It took us 15 minutes to pass the entire country. Diagonally, taking the longest possible route.
-They have border patrol. Why?
-They take pride in the fact that even Napoleon didn't conquer Lichtenstein. You know why? He didn't care about it, and/or couldn't find it.
-They sent their entire 20 man army to help out with WWII. 3 of them died. Tragic story, Lichtenstein....

Zurich
-Lots of Banks.
-The Post Bank is the same color scheme as the post offices, I hope I mailed Jaime the postcard and not deposited it.
-ZWINGLI!!!!! (kudos to anyone who geeks out like me when she sees a statue of an obscure historical figure)
-Chagall did the stained glass windows in the church on Zurichsee, whoa.

Before Berlin, we stopped over in Ludwigsburg for the night
-Where the hell are we?
-graffiti: corn in a condom....O.o

***********
My travel notes end there, I think it's because I started using my spare time to read Zen and The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance, in the end I was one of the few people who actually read it in ToK.

On a different note, I got L'estranger (The Stranger) in French today! And some short stories in German, it'll be great fun. And I love Tattered Cover, the new one is really cool, it used to be a theater, so the acoustics are a little eerie.

Welcome to the environmentally-friendly windmills of my mind.

 Who knew that if a steamer is not working, the moment you put your hand near it hot, humid air will start coming out, as if to spite you, leaving your hand red, and eventually blistered.
What kind of a party story is that? "What happened to your hand" "Oh, I was steaming a shirt at work and the steamer attacked me"
How about "I got bitten my a poisonous spider while saving a small child?"
I like that better.
Looking at my two perfect blisters....I think I need to lose weight...
But everytime I do, I gain it all back.
Maybe this time will be different?
Doubt it, but I can never lose hope.
I've been sticking to my exercise routine for 3 days now, and my my watch that means the habit is here to stay.

I think I might have ADD. I also think that's not really an appropriate name for it. It's more of a Scattered Attention Disorder. I mean, it's not like people have not attention, that would kind of make them a autistic, they just have a lot of attention in a lot of places...all the time...constantly changing focuses.
And it's not like it's a disorder, it's a sign of genius!
Unless genius is a disorder. It probably is, because not everyone is a genius. Brilliant Talia.

Since when did I start calling myself Talia? 
Who started that anyway?
I guess it fits. Does it?
I mean, Natalia makes me seem way more mature and important than I actually feel.

I want a cape.
I tried on a really cool one made of....what's it called? Pressed velvet?
or something
It was red, and heavy and made swooshy noises.
But it was expensive.
Plus where would I wear a cape?!
I wish they were socially acceptable.
"Call me Countess Natalia"
SEE! With a cape I can actually use my real name.

I want to have a costume party now.
But my house if 90% glass, so that would be stupid.
unless I could have it somewhere else....how about 20 people in different costumes showing up to......Red Robin?
That would be quite a show.

I get paid tomorrow!
Whoot.
Who knew cute little Asian girls who go shopping with cute little Asian boys could steal?
I sure didn't.
It's not like I particularly care, but a little bit of the little bit of the hope I had in people just died. She was looking me straight in the eye, and she still stole.
I guess it wasn't a personal offense.

I want to go buy some shoes with the money I get.
Some nice high-heeled shoes....
I figues I'm already 5'9", and wearing heels isn't going to make me look any more like a tall freak than I already look.
plus I feel empowered in heels.
I am woman, hear me roar.

  I have returned after a dry spell of 6 months.
But nobody really cares, though you should.

So, shall we?

The saga of the teenager who has exibited free will by taking a year off after high school begins with a fitting room key. I wear it with pride around my arm. I'm becoming numb towards clothing, and will probably never be able to shop again.

So far, there has been nothing more to this story, a 770 (out of 800) on the Biology Subject test, a 36 on my IB diploma, and lots of idleness.

Now, I would like to discuss something that I'm interested in: ART.



That, my dear readers, is the Tate Modern Art Museum in London, located in an old power house on the Thames. It was empty for a long time, and when modern art was driven out of London by people who actually like art, that particular parasite on the aesthetic horizon moved into the factory.

What you see in the picture, is a crack going through the factory (it was abandoned for 40 years), The place is HUGE, and the crack is probabaly deep enough for me to put my whole arm into it. 

It also happens to be the most popular 'exhibit' in the whole museum which boasts Andy Worhol, Lichtenchtein, Picasso, Monet, and some other weird stuff that I will talk about later (actually, no I won't, but just take my word for it)

My question to you is: why is a crack in the floor so popular? I admit it's pretty august, it's a very large, empty room, the walls and the floor are the same color, the crack is not obscured by anything (if we don't count the Japanese tourists), and the artificial light makes it all seem a bit surreal.

Also, my visit to that museum made me ask a very peculiar question that has been bugging me for the 3 months that have elapsed since: What isn't art?

For the last two years that I was subject to philosophy class, I've been thinking about what art is, and why we feel a compulsion to view and create art, and I've had many theories and arguments with myself about this, about the sublime, about art being separate from the creator, but they always boiled down to WHAT IS ART?

Art, in a very vague and unstatisfying defenition, is a creation of an artist that reaches out to the viewer in a desire to create a reality that the viewer and the artist will share. I don't know if that makes any sense, but I know what I'm talking about, it's the experience between the artist and the creator (I'm not going to go into the the many aspects about the role of the artist, about the viewer not having any role in this saga, and the role of the critic). 
So where was I?
Oh, what isn't art? Everything, including the stylized, kitty-shaped ring holder that I'm looking at right now, was made to have its cute yet mildly distrubing shape to create a common truth between the creator and the one experiencing it, get it? 
Now let's take a step back and look at the bigger picture:
EVERYTHING is made to create a common truth between the user/viewer/audience! 

So if the common truth/understanding defenition is true, everything is art. The relationships you maintain (healthy ones, at least) are works of art, this blog is art, internet is art, television is art, language is art, even very common (created) objects such as...lotion, wine, and clothing are art.

Before I go off to muse a little more on this topic, I leave you with two questions: 
-Can art be an unsuccessful understanding of truth? (meaning if the artist meant for something else to be understood. In this case any art that the artist cannot stand by to explain should be tossed away, thus art whose creator is dead is obsolete. Fare well Mona Lisa)
-Is the sublime not art? There is no creator to stand by the sublime (well there could be, but we're not exactly going to question his intention any time soon)


Oh, and here's the Tate Modern virtual Museum, it's really cool, check it out.
http://www.tate.org.uk/modern/explore/

And finally, just to throw off anyone who thought they were creating an art theory in their mind, I present to you with my own personal White Whale:
CAVE ART




Peace,
Talia

Wouldn't it be awesome if you had a narrator for your life?
It would make everything so much more understandable:
-said Talia bitterly-
"no I didn't!"
-trust me, you did-

It would narrate what I'm thinking about, what I'm remembering, how I feel certain things, what I think about people, I mean, I think only I would be able to hear this narrator so it would just facilitate my understanding of myself more. 
That is my plan :-)

Because honestly, sometimes I wish I could be told what I'm feeling and what I want and all that jazz. Recently though I've been better at keeping in touch with how I feel about people, I've become more loving, brutally honest (more so than usual?) and more laid back, but still, I'm so confused most of the time. 

You can draw certain conclusions from the fact that I'm a teenage girl: yes, it is concerning a human being of the male persuasion, but knowing that I'm a teenage girl with a morsel of intellect (well, you probably don't know that, but I just told you) I have existential quandries arising from my romantic confusion.

So here's the deal: I'm seeing a certain redundancy in my approach towards relationships, it's like I don't know what I want!
If a guy is too attatched to me I don't want him, even though I could have actually really liked him before. WTF is this? shouldn't it be the opposite? 

Anyway, I was hoping to finish my contemplation today, but i want to get some sleep, I shalst continue when I have thought about this a little more.

Fare thee well,
Peace,
Talia

P.S. If you were reading this Pookie: the sleepover is a go, but the indian place is really nasty, so we have to figure something else out, soon, so we can make reservations, damn Valentine's Day. Love ya!

Graduating!!!!
Having fun, getting a job, going to Mexico, traveling, falling in love. Living life!!!!!!
 

FAT by *ivoryacidlust on deviantART 

Found this picture on deviantART, duh, that's why it says so just a centimeter above. 
I really like it because although it seems like there's all this fat on the woman, I mean she doesn't really have rock-hard abs (obviously) she doesn't come off as hideous. At the same time the hand isn't being gentle, it's like "I want this OFF". It's really interesting. Any thoughts?