February 23, 2015


Sleep is so important.

And school is so boring.

Here's some of my work!

Oh, wow. You're so amazing, everything is so brilliant. So new, so fresh. So cool, so rad.

I don't know how to feel about my portfolio at the moment. my art work is everywhere, right?

February 20, 2015




The constant talking on phone and ignoring me unless her friends are here. I've questioned everything that has to do with having a bedroom. Something so personal to me has become a death trap.

Please, send me prayers, sometimes I feel I won't make it outta here. 



February 12, 2015


I don't like to fight with people, but sometimes I just can't simply keep my mouth shut.

This week I have been noticibly down, maybe it's because I haven't been sleeping well or things just haven't been going my way.

I haven't been able to paint.

And as I point fingers at everyone else, I'll soon realize that it's me being the complete grouch.

I just don't want to believe it.

It was Matias birthday this week which was really nice. We ate an entire slab of ribs with hush puppies and carrot cake for dessert.

It was sweet.

Then afterwords, I turn sour from being too full and become more stubborn than ever. Then, I have to go out and talk to people.

The worst thing ever is talking to people when you don't want to talk at all. 

That night was fine. I talked as one kid goes on about the grammy's and past facts as his high doses of adderal wears off as he wears on me.

I get sick of it.

I don't know why, but people make me feel dumb.

Or maybe more numb than anything since I know I'm not an idiot.

When I talk, I get at least one person genuinely listening.

And the doctors prescribe adderal to relate, but it just makes me skinny and sick.

It makes your brain fat with knowledge that fills you up so much your stomach hurts.

And my friends tell me I act differently when doctors said it would help.

I find myself closed in a room and there's no one to talk too.

Adderal is such a strange thing to me, why has our schools become so tolerate to such an artificial learning. I wish my teachers could accept my style of writing and bless me in some other kind of way. And as they push me farther away from wanting it, I find myself closing in on myself.

I want to learn so I can feel peace, but this headache won't go away.


February 5, 2015

It's such a strange moment when you apologize to someone who, honestly, does not even deserve it. Then, you pause wait for them to finally admit to herself that there's something making her want to apologize too, but there's a silence that breaks this curiousity.

Silence ends.

I suddendly wish I could take it back.

February 3, 2015


As the weather gets colder in Chicago, people seem to slowly start to act differently. Not in a miserable way, but there's some relationship between everyone saying, " this fucking sucks ".

Yes, it does fucking suck, but people sometimes ignore the fact that it brings the city together is a warm way.

Separating us from homes, but the minute the door opens to whatever warm place you entered. A mutual cold bond forms between you and someone else.

Weeks ago, you and this person had nothing to talk about.

Now, you can agree that this weather maybe worse than yesterdays and faces read the same exact feelings.

Though, some may not want to talk about it. I've found it comforting to laugh at my wet socks and frozen hair. The woman at the security counter will laugh and nod her head letting me pass.

A simple gesture, but sometimes thats simply all you need.

I've found these small gestures of head nods comforting here in Chicago.

Chicago being a very, very cold place.

I've completely fallen in love with it.

January 29, 2015


 Everyone's getting drunk and high all the time which I can't say I dislike.

There's this thing called alone time which really doesn't exist here.

Especially at this strange place, art school.

I always thought art school was going to be the coolest thing in the world. Well, I've still found myself still waiting for something to happen. I'm making as much art as I would at home. Possibly, different art, but I've always been making junk loads of shit to hid inside my room.

Well, I guess one good thing is some of my work is going to be featured in this girls show.

It's going to be focused on VOODOO...

Ritual babe coming your way

I'm really happy about that since critiques can make you feel pretty shitty. 
I always think about the times when I work my ass off and then someone makes one small comment that pisses you off more than any other comment mentioned.  

 Like, " I don't understand... yaddayaddayadda" when truly, there isn't nothing to understand. 

But as the artist, I want you to simple look. 
But you're failing at that too. 

Oh, woe is me. It's so hard being an artist. 

Also, I still hate my roomate to the moon and back. She's a strange one, one of those non-art-school girls that just decided to come here. Made a bad decision and now casts spells on anyone that comes in her way. 

Some what of one of those sad New Trier girls, who think their lives are so interesting, but really they watch TV every night and cry about their boyfriends being shitty since they can't get any. Oops, I'm sorry for your misforntunes, but when you're 18 or so years old, its time to help yourself. No?

I don't know, I can't seem to feel bad for anyone anymore since I've feel so shitty because of them. They like to dawn on others. 

Others who are exceptionally happy with their choices and understand whats actually good for them. 

You know, like you should help yourself, and honestly quit listening to anyone else, but yourself. Maybe the friends you consider smart and have similar interests in mind. 

And don't listen to your mom. 

Unless, she's exactly who you want to be when you're older. I've found it much more fun to listen to yourself and if you're wrong, you're moms always there to talk. 

I know it's lame, but this is your only chance to do whatever you want. 

Before we get old, and dry. 

Mentally dull and at home unsettled with dreams you never seemed to live. 

A fear of mine that continues to drive my life.


Urgh, my roommate sprays terrible perfume everywhere. I've lost the blood flow to my head now and as she continues to talk to herself, I plan to throw the perfume bottle at her head. Now, that I cannot think straight. I'll go take a nap. 

Please, enjoy yourselfs as I watch some suffer in misery like someone else is doing this to them. Unless, it really is someone else being evil. Please, enjoy these years of being before who knows what happens. 

Times are good now.

Before, we all get, you know, dry. 




I hope that everyone goes through obsessions just as I do.

I'll find someone who's made something brilliant and totally focus on it for god knows how long and it becomes something beyond media to me. Something probably too real.

Maya Deren is a experiemental film gal from around the 40s whos work explores perception of space and time. Her films are extremely engaging, but some find them a little bit too bizarre to really care.

To me, I think everyone should know who this artist is.

She's a lady who does not get enough attention.

I mean,  she's played chess with Duchamp.

That asshole.

This being one of my favorite stills. She wears a black cloak covering everything with a mirror covering her face. Maya Deren is a little spooky.


Though it almost feels she has no idea what she is doing, it comes together to make some sort of lost narrative. Please, please, check this lady out. 


January 25, 2015


There once was a time where my mom would call me a thousand times in one night and I didn't seem to bother or my phone laid next to me completely off unreachable.

I like to call it freedom.

Now, I sit in a bathroom calling my mom a thousand times while she's in New York, living.

January 24, 2015


This week I started class. And for some reason, I always get extremely nervous. I actually loose my appiete and turns my stomach into a giant knot.

The first day of class should be the easiest since its going over assignment after assignment, but the intial fear of getting THAT asshole teacher lingers in your head.

Teachers either love you or hate you.

I don't live in academia at all.
No one should.

The language is different. Teachers don't talk to you how they talk to others in their lives.

School to me is boring, but that maybe the idea I got from something when I was younger that just turned into my reality.

I think I once found it fun when I was making maps and we could sing songs and do dances to learn vocabulary.. Now, sitting at a desk has turned me into a student who nods her head in understanding some boring lecture about something thats too far off in my life for me to truly relate too.

Reading old israeli text, unless that is you're reads, please continue to love and devour every word and taste each bit of it.

It's genuinetly hard for me to read and the frustration that comes with it makes class harder for me to focus.

I love to participate, but everytime you talk the teachers manipulates the words into a completely different idea.

Some people are visual.

I still like to listen to a good story.

And listening to a slow story is boring, I like a fast suspensful drama that includes love and death and life and the total outcome shows the beauty in all of those and is told is the most simple way.

I can't follow along a lot.

I don't think a lot of people do.

Some people are naturally good readers who pick up on the story when they read. I have to read something 4 times or so and also have questions I have to ask myself like whos this person and why are they going here?

I think. haiorgajigaogj. My brain just can't connect. I'll find a fragment of broken words something about the orange sun and I'll focus on just that and conduct my own story.

Daydreaming in class, something most students don't do, but I recommend it.


Sleep is so important.

It's everyone thing.

Unless you don't or you can't or you wake up everyday at the same time.

I'm up at 7 every saturday.

January 15, 2015


Friendship is so strange to me. There not family, but people you've met later in your life who you look at as if they maybe a brother or sister. For me, I've been friends with a couple of people I've met around 3rd grade or so. Then, I have my most recent group of friends who I'd call much different from the people I spent growing up with in Winnetka.

Well, the first thing is is I never felt completely comfort in Winnetka so my friendships were short termed. I always wanted to leave and for some reason, people there seemed to like it.

I think of it as being afraid. They like the comfort there. It's definitely no Chicago.. I actually laugh about it all the time.

And in between these time periods of groups of people I call friends, like actual friends I'd call in times of trouble. I went through maybe 100 different friend groups where I tried to find someone.

I'm in need of some friends.

But, it just seems to me that people aren't looking for the friendship I am looking for.

I want an honest relationship with good meanings and lots of fun.
It's not like I'm asking for a lot, but a lot of people I know or thought I was friends with proved to me they do not care about any of those things.

They strictly care about if you are willing to have people over, willing to throw money of booze, and if OTHERS like you so they're willing to bring you around..

And it weirds me how people have separated friendships for separated parts of themselves. How do you really ignore this when you hangout with this person?

Am I maybe tough?

I don't know. I can't tell, but all I know if all my friends bother me all the time.

I think its maturity.

Everyone's still trying to get their fix and I'm just trying to sit and hangout. Yeah, I'd love to go out.

But I'm not dying too, so no one bothers to invite me at all anymore.

I've seem to realize maybe it is me, then I remember who I've been defriended by and I'm grateful again.

I have some friends who live only by their schedules and love to text me only when they have their free time.

And I've gotten really sick of my friends who think they know me like know me so well they can read me, you can never read someone by the way. Especially at this time of young age where we change.

And I understand people are people and friends are friends.

And I am no friends responsibility.

All I want to say is it would be fucking nice to be invited once in awhile by your best friend or any friends at all.

 But especially, a so called best friend. I've began to think they really just love the fucking title because they love you, but they're really into themselves at the moment.






It's the small things, small gestures of invitations or things you like. Hey, I know you've been feeling down let's get some sushi. Or, lets grab some tea.

And I know I'm tough and stubborn, but that doesn't mean I don't like going out and being around all types of people.

Some people are such idiots for assuming things.

Some friends are such idiots for assumings things.

And now in college, the friendship games have changed.

Some people had the greatest friendships of high school and others found it challenging as others did. And then you have the liars, who can't admit that they picked their friends based on terrible reason.

I know maybe people of that nature and I really hope they can think about what they've done.

People really need to pick friends wisely because you become who are around.
And friend's inspire you to be one way or another.


p.s  I'm getting my mustache LASERED off so maybe that will help.



January 12, 2015

As I sit in my empty dorm,  I think about all the things needed to be done. Some dishes, laundry from about 3 weeks ago, and there is clothing everywhere.

I never thought my love for shopping would kill me, but it slowly will. I'll loose oxygen and you'll find me buried under a million sweaters.

I need to organize my classes and figure out which days I actually have serious work to do and organize when I can really do nothing.

I need to pray for the weather to get better and my pulled tummy muscle need to relax so I can go back to eating my normal routine of unhealthy healthy food.

Something strange.

I text my roommate to see when she will be back and she never text me back. She actually never said bye to me and when I texted her hoping that she has a good break. She never responded then either.

I have a gut feeling that she might never come back at all.

I don't know, this is my first roommate and I find it extremely strange to ignore me.

And I know it's none of my business, but she totally failed two of her classes and lied completely to my face about it saying that classes has been cancelled for 2 weeks when I'm not an idiot. SAIC would never do that. Period.

You can only miss two classes total in a semester, I can't believe that she would make up that class was cancelled during finals week...

I think she thinks I'm stupid..

Or maybe, I'm the asshole and she just simply hates it here.

I just wish she would let me know and give me a heads up because I am living with her.

Her oddness makes me feel 120% unwanted in this environment and as time came closer to break, she seemed to become stranger and stranger with everything.

I know its terrible to rant about people behind their backs, but it seems that she wants nothing to do with me. So, I doubt she'll be reading my blog.

120% I have felt unwanted and weird.

Roommates are weird.
Dorms are weird.
I cannot wait to have an apartment off campus so I can hold mini parties where people smoke and drink and listen to great old tunes from our parents era and you know, do mildly safe acts and enjoy each others company.

Oh! I also have one of my first shows thats like a real show coming up at my friend, Tannaz place. I am so excited. I'll post more details once I find out more.

Its a VOODOO show, perfect for my VOODOO work.

Aw, my art is what really makes me happy.
Aw, it's so good to be completely happy.

It makes you feel free.

And that's all you need.


January 8, 2015


This Chicago weather is making it impossible to enjoy myself. After getting over a flu that lasted four days which is insane to me, I cannot believe I am still stuck at my parents house.

Urgh, parents home. They cater to you then yell at you when you don't say thank you. I understand I should say thank you more, but I didn't ask for this instant service to take my dishes. And to be yelled at every other moment.

I'm terrible, I love being at home. But, my moms quite the awful food shopper and I've ended up eating practically the same as I do at school.

Today, I made a single cheese pizza that tasted like my microwave and finished it off with some potato chips and some tears.

I want some homemade mac and cheese right about now.

And I want it to stop snowing so I can head back downtown.

I'm extremely lucky. I live across from the Chicago theater on State Street.

Yes, State street that great street. I am oh so very lucky. The loop is one strange place to live. I guess it's full of the busiest people of Chicago since it's all company buildings such as my fathers office, Michael Stamos fathers company, Harvey's dad too. I've bumped into them a couple of times. There is no escaping these dads, they're everywhere.

I've found it hard to believe I'm living in chicago without my family and I'm in college now.

Time seems to go fast yet sometimes I feel I'm 30. But at the moment, I've wanted it to slow down. There's never enough time anymore.

Every moment I want it to freeze so I can capture exactly what it is I am looking at.

Look from a differnt angle and ask someone else what they might of saw.

So, I can get exactly the experience I am experiencing.

You don't want to blink, but you do because you're eyes start to get fuzzy. You fall in love and your cheeks stiffen as the corners of your lips raise up into a smile.

These are the things I am grateful of.

I guess I should thank the snow for locking me inside and forcing me to think apon more important things than getting high with friends.

In the end, we should thank the cold for making the world alittle more introverted.

But, a weeks long enough.


While eating pizza, this is my time.

January 7, 2015


I seem to be still thinking about this lady jazz, and why I feel so disconnected from my gender in this generation.

Maybe, it's just because I seem to not fit in with anyone ever, period. Like boys and girls, I'm like the outcast of the world or something.

I don't know when in the past, my girlfriends were mean to me. They were selective on who they invited to parties and I felt that they didn't pick me as a friend because of who I am, but almost to be seen with me. And maybe it's because I surrounded myself with those type of girls, but I haven't in years had a problem with being a lady.

Maybe it is because of sex.

A girl deserves good sex.

I also don't drink. Which is a choice I make because of my weak stomach and how alcohol makes me too relaxed. 

One drink equals four for me and you end up talking to some body who doesn't deserve you.

Theres one part of me that many girls look at me like well, you have a boyfriend I'd do anything to have a boyfriend.

Well, yeah. It's nice and I love everything about Matias. But, didn't intinally start this way. I waited and waited and waited because nice guys are always shy. And they're not going to hurt you, but they're afraid of you hurting them. I've seem to hurt many guys in my past by saying wow, you didn't like me at all. When I really assumed, they didn't like me, but for boys it takes longer. They don't just fall in love like that. Girls are all over boys like fall in love with me, fall in love with me. To a point, a guy doesn't want to fall in love at all. For god sakes, I'm 18 and I could care less about having a boyfriend.

The only thing I want to do in this goddamn world is paint.

And it's a shame boys are assholes everywhere, maybe it's because they're pissed because they know they suck. 

I try to stay away from the word feminism. Not because I'm not one, but because I don't want that to define me.

My actions as a lady define who I am. My clothing and sense of self makes me extremely sexy I guess. 

And if you correct me, I think you should give it a try.

But, I think this all goes back to how I can consider myself as an independent.

Well, I'm indepedendently, a dependent.

I still cry to my mom all the time.
I cry to matias because the world is so beautiful.
I cry all the time because I'm just so goddamn overwhelming.

I know, it's time for majority of boys to grow up, but ladies be patient theres someone out there for you whos going to love you more than anything else in this world.

I think we all forgot about the little boys who threw sand in my face because he liked me. I would kill matias if he threw sand at me today, but many of these boys have never grown up since that.

And ladies, rather than being 'better than that' or above it', I always think you should learn from it and stand up for yourself always.

Throwing sand would be too nice so I'd throw the sharp plastic shovel.

I don't know, maybe it's because dyslexic hearing, when boys have said awful things to me, I've realized they're simply playing games with me because they think they're funny. I don't listen to what they say, but I see their actions.

Sometimes, they are evil.

My dad to this day can be a total asshole, God, I love him to death. But I told him about my terrible gas this week because I've been home dying of the somach flu and he seemed to tell me he's had enough of me being gross.

When I've been crying for almost 6 days straight, you just always say you're a fucking asshole

They will never grow up because I think it's in their nature.

Like our nature to become sooooo fucking tough. people think I'm chill but I'm actually the most tense person you'll ever meet. I can't sleep for more than 7 hours a night because I'm thinking about how I'm at such a disadvantage from my class because I slept too much in highschool. And I'm sitting next to the girl in history who learns naturally and fast and she's beautiful and she understands algebra. I want to say, you know you're lucky school comes easy for you.

Maybe, boys come easy to me because I get them and I have the most amazing brother ever who is a radical humanist like me.


But, I've met too many nasty girls to say that I'm such a feminist or yadda yadda.

I don't know, I've never been able to make a giant girl group work for me. I've never been able to feel completely  accepted into one and I continue to feel excluded from them. Who knows.

All people are terrible, thats my point.

January 2, 2015


I used to always think ladies have to stick together. But theres something so interesting to me about the independent woman.

Why is it that woman go to the bathroom with someone else?

Even though I'm not a man, I never really understood it.

Yet, I did it when I was young. I'd drag my best friend to the bathroom, make her sit in the bathroom while I pee and I'd tell her some pointless story about some girl I didn't like or some jerk that hurt my feelings. 

I now enjoy finding the bathroom on my own and peeing in complete privacy. Even when I am blackout drunk, I will know.

And its weird.

I don't know I've always felt a disconnect from the girl posses who take much pride in their lady friends. Maybe its because I'm a terrible friend or maybe I just simply don't get it because I wasn't ever completely happy within one of them. I doubt anyone is though.

 I'm just not into the phony sorority fraternity lives that suck you dry.

Even the clans of boys are insane, stop sucking each others dicks and get a fucking girlfriend. or boyfriend, that's fine!

Everyone needs to grow up...


January 1, 2015


Sometimes you feel like you're dying. Like actually dying, when you have a fever of 104 and can't stop shitting yourself while vomiting at the same time. You can't think about anything until you say, damn, am I going to be fucking okay? You look in the mirror for half a second and see a ghost of yourself, a pale empty body praying that this bug will pass.

It will pass.

But it took four days of no eating and constant tossing and turning in bed. And for some reason I had to sleep with the lights on because the dark made me too nauseous.

I fell asleep by my window and I fell asleep in my bathroom, I woke up and thought I broke my wrist because I had slept on it like a fucking idiot having it twist backwards.

But, when you're dying who cares if your wrist is broken.

I sincerely hope no one goes through whatever the hell I just did. 

As it welcomed me into the new year, I am so blessed. 

Pray for the sick


December 29, 2014


And sometimes you look at things that make you completely weep.

I keep holding onto things that make it frustrated for me to focus.