I was looking at multitudes of pictures of tiny houses and thinking about how much I would love to simplify my life down to that minimalist of living. I looked around my horribly cluttered desk and as a test thought about what things on my desk I could get rid of. I saw my abundance of pens and pencils, half of which probably don't work. I saw reciepts that need to be recycled. I saw a plastic container of cheep bubbles. I saw a paper cat. I saw random peppermint candies. But as I thought I realized its the random crap that makes life a bit more interesting. I could get rid of my bubbles. I rarely use them. What if instead I made an effort to use them. When I'm bored or stressed, or (goddess forbid) have people over. I should blow more bubbles. Now that doesn't mean I shouldn't get rid of a lot of this random crap. But many of the random things I should get rid of are the fun, random things. I suppose I've always tried to fix this by having junk drawers. Now that I'm older my junk drawers have turned into craft drawers. I've got my paper drawer with all of my cool scrap paper I may someday use. There is the string scrap drawer with every type of rope, yarn or string I've found. Lastly there is the true craft crap drawer with everything under the sun. From feathers, stickers and tiny boxes to denture cream (it was a theater project, I swear.) But there inlies the problem that I excuse my random crap for the sake of art. I say I'll use it for an art project someday.
Mayhaps I'm just too connected to objects, but who isn't in our society. I think in a few years when I'm done with college I'd like to get rid of all of my stuff. Pack the little bit I've got left and travel. I'll be Amanda in the van and hopefully my Jean Paul will still be here to ride his motorcycle behind me.
Anyways. To my favorite book. Since we were required to read it in high school, The Great Gatsby has been my favorite book. The lilting peace and slightly unsettling mood strikes something in my heart. I adore the two past movies made of the book, they both perfectly capture the calm before the storm. Thus far I've been looking forward to the new movie, I didn't think it would be horribly perfect but I thought it would be good. I just watched another preview of it though and I am a little wary. They seemed to be making the statement that their world was moving too fast and crazily which led them to rash choices, which is completely the opposite of the point. This book is about the sticky quiet heat. Its about lounging on a couch with a wind from nowhere blowing the white curtains. The preview kept the color scheme in a deacent earthy, 1920's area, but The Great Gatsby deserves more then your usual 1920's colors. It needs uncomfortable pastels. When the color deviates from those pastels thats when something really strong is happening. The darkness of the garage, the vibrance of T.J. Eckleburg's eyes. The stark contrast of blood on a white blouse.
Since I'm going into the colors of the book. I wanted to tell you about my favorite cover. Not that all of these colors match up to my theory above, but it still strikes something in me. I'd been thinking about getting a Great Gatsby tattoo sometime. I've seen images of people with the face from this cover tattooed, but it dosn't seem quite right for me. I am however quite attracted to the city scape and swirls around the bottom of the cover. I imagine those could be quite beautiful around an ankle or wrist. Maybe even an upper arm. Who knows. We'll see what happens.
Good bye.
Merr.
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