4/14/26 & 4/15/26: All the oomph in the world.

4/14/26

I’ve gotten in the habit of chugging water like a thirsty maniac instead of peacefully sipping it. I'll drink a whole Mason jar in about thirty seconds. I need to get a new gigantic 48 fluid oz. water bottle. I love gigantic water bottles. Probably bright pink or neon orange this time. 

 

It was my last surface design class today. 

My clay friend mentioned a documentary called Burden of Dreams, and they were reading this incredibly epic Werner Herzog quote to me from the movie. I might need to get heavily into Werner Herzog now.

I got to talking about myself a bit to someone in class in a way that made me semi-cringe. I have mixed feelings on talking about myself. At least in that moment I hated it. The art is more important than me. That's a running theory of mine anyway, but can one really take the artist/ego out of the art? Maybe that's just part of the DNA of the art and it can't be excised. In the back of my mind, though, art always feels like this bigger entity than any of the particular people making it.  

I also got to talking with my teacher about how capitalism and creativity are not compatible bedfellows. It’s a very fascinating topic for me. I have a ton of feelings about it I haven’t fully figured out how to put into words yet.

4/15/26

I was feeling really sensitive when I was afloat in the world of dating before I put a pause on it. I’m really only looking for those special sparks I feel with certain people. Those sustainable sparks of compatibility and passion and laughter and joy and softness, whether it be with a lover or a friend. The long-haul types. I want to build lasting relationships with people I fall in love with and build strong bonds with.

When a connection gets cut off, I feel it so intensely. When it happens abruptly and the connection holds weight for me it feels extra disheartening. Human connection feels like a part of the world opens up. So when it gets slammed shut I don’t automatically adjust. I feel lost. And sad. It takes me making so much art to process it. I have to sit with it for so long.

I had this hope in the connection I shared with him. Maybe it was misguided. I don’t think it was, though. I think the hope I felt was beautiful and I don’t want to stop being hopeful. I wanted to see what bloomed between us. I could feel a garden brimming. It was there just waiting for water.

In a sea of meaningless connections that have zero oomph, this one had all the oomph in the world.

Is it lame that I still think about him? I don’t care if it is. Sometimes I think about his happiness. I hope that he is. And I hope that I brought him some joy. I felt a ton of joy with him. But sometimes people don’t choose you to be in their life and it just is what it is. It hurts a ton but it’s out of my control. I’m trying to practice peacefulness and it’s been difficult, but I think I’m actually getting better at it. 

I think what bothers me is how natural it felt between us and how unnatural it felt to cut things off. But everyone needs to do what feels right for them. And no one really needs to explain why something feels right to them.

 

I have to remember what I’ve created for myself so far this year, and the power I have to keep trying to create the life I want, even in the midst of my mom’s illness. I may not be going as quick-paced as I like, but I’m still proud of myself for even trying; for digging myself out of the hopelessness and despondency this illness so desperately wanted to keep me trapped inside of. It was very lonely in there. 

Art has been on the back-burner recently because my mom needs a physical therapist and getting around is harder right now for her. That’s been my main focus at the moment until I can get it resolved. The goal is to get her to see a P.T. regularly. I'm really hoping we find a good one that actually helps her. 

The dating I’ve done so far this year has been very discouraging. But it’s 2:56 a.m. and I have to shut my brain off now. 

 

I have a dorky Mirror Talk session planned for when I wake up: 

The future is bright Samantha. Keep being hopeful and keep making art. Keep laughing. You got this. Stop comparing yourself and enjoy the fuck out of life, even when it sux ballz.

I do my official new member tour at my new clay studio today and I’m very excited. She takes a Polaroid of the new members so I have to make sure I don’t look too wacky today.

 

I just learned how to knit in the round and I just knit the outline of an eyeball for a new painting. I’m excited to add this to my skill-set for my fresh batch of mixed-media paintings which I’ve been trying to prioritize. In the how-to knitting video I watched I was also reminded how much I hate the pearl stitch. I’m wholeheartedly against it.

Wow, knitting in the round feels like my new superpower.

I did my member orientation just now at my new clay studio and it was lovely. I had my member picture taken in my blue beanie. I’ll now happily live as a Polaroid among all the other member’s Polaroids. I’m very elated to be at this studio. It’s truly peaceful.

I was reminded today how terror is always just right there. The terror of my mom dying from this cancer. She’ll have a bad day and start talking about her mortality and she’ll start crying. Which obviously makes me start crying, too. 

I’m often able to ignore the palpable terror of possible death with the sturdy muscle of hope I possess, but today it was out in the open and I felt it fully.