i had a really great talk with brett on monday night. we talked about how things are going with he and bailey, how things are here, each other, ourselves. we over analyzed and second-guessed, cracked jokes and missed each other sorely.
brett and i figured out early on in our friendship that we're pretty much the same person. brett's intensity is a little more apparent than mine, but we think similarly, and are both extremely creative and introspective. we both shamelessly love country music. we both have accents. we've became much closer much quicker than most of my friendships. he's one of the most caring, thoughtful, and aware people that i know, and i'm hoping that'll rub off on me. i also just like him.
yesterday i was messing around during my break between classes and decided to read some of pablo neruda's poetry, since mary beth posts a lot of it and i've really like what i've read. i googled him and found a couple sites with his poems on them, and started reading.
i fell in love.
he has this way of writing that makes you know what he was feeling as he wrote it, that makes you find that part of yourself and love it. maybe i'm just weird and that's my inner romantic poet talking, but that's how i felt. some of his poetry describes exactly what i'm going through right now- not only having tons of new experiences, but actually getting to know myself again. it's been a long time since it was just me, and it's scary, but exhilarating. i'm discovering and relearning all sorts of things about myself- it was only a few years ago that i would sit utterly absorbed in a book of dylan thomas poems or reading walt whitman on the web. yet somehow i had forgotten that, forgotten that poetry brings me peace, takes me to this other place just like music and the ocean do.
once i had read all the neruda i could find, i added his books to my amazon.com wishlist and immediately remembered that i loved viggo mortensen's poetry, as well. not only is he an accomplished actor, but he owns his own publishing house and puts out books of poetry, his amazing photographs, and albums of spoken word and music. his paintings are also incredible. i reread some of his poems and added a lot of his photos to my library and screensaver.
christiana, harry, and i went to bryce's for a barbie, and watched the departed. it is nothing short of amazing. i only had a kind of mild, curious interest about it, but from the first 30 seconds i was hooked: leaning forward from my seat on the couch, gasping, exclaiming, physically reacting to what happened on screen. rent it. you'll understand why this was the film that finally earned scorsese an oscar.
today was manning day. chris and i met liam there and hung out with him for a couple of hours, which i think will become a tradition. he doesn't have any of his friends in his courses, so it's good to be able to see him and for him to not feel totally alone on campus. i went to class after and then came home to do laundry.
our last housemate, michael, moved in. very nice, australian. i haven't really done more than exchange pleasantries with him, but i think he'll be fun to live with. apparently our apartment is the one of aussie guys and american girls.
i'm having thai with cyrus tonight. he's an interesting person, very hard to figure out. he's one of those people that you hesitate to call a friend because you know he's holding back. but maybe he'll finally open up a little bit since we're not 'out' like we usually are when i see him.
so it's been good. i'm reading poetry again. and i love that.
la selva (the jungle) by viggo mortensen