I am aware that a few people in the world have started their own versions of The A Thousand Quilted Cranes Project. I was unaware, however, that some people consider this a bit “OCD.”
I prefer the term “Type A” and “Driven.”
Eh, it’s all semantics, anyway.
Date: May 14, 2013
Days Spent on Project: 86
Location: Apartment, Washington Heights, NYC
Person I would have sent it to: Geoff B., another of my first good friends at Brebeuf.
I just remember Geoff as an incredibly fascinating guy. He was incredibly smart, the kind of guy that just had an ease about intelligence. He also liked heavy metal music… Pantera, anyone?
Which always struck me: he lived in a really nice and posh northern suburb of Indianapolis. What about that music intrigued him? How could he relate?
Anyway, he was the unofficial leader of our gang; the leader whose locker was where we congregated at before school, religiously, to discuss whatever random thing teenage boys would discuss when your world revolved around music, homework, computers, etc.
We were awesome.
Music I listened to while sewing: Today I’m listening to the soundtrack to the new Great Gatsby music. I just realized, despite the heavy ad campaign, that the movie opened last weekend.
I should really see it. I think Baz Luhrmann is a wicked, twisted genius in how puts a very modern spin and antic aesthetic on the worlds he creates. Plus, his designers (Catherine Martin and Angus Strathie) are the kind of designers that I love… their ability to ground a movie or play in a very period but make it feel intensely modern and still real… that’s a trick.
Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: So last night’s trip to Sleep No More was probably my most rewarding one yet. Throughout the evening, I kept uncovering more aspects of the experience that I hadn’t witnessed. I met and even interacted with several characters who hadn’t even been on my radar previously. It was great. Before the evening was over, I was planning my 6th trip.
It was also great because I attended with my friends Katie D. (yesterday’s Crane) and Mikey G. (Crane 33). Katie and I are obviously fans of SNM. Mikey had never experienced it before.
And by the end of the evening, he appreciated it… even though he expressed reservations about the whole endeavor previously. I was happy to talk to him about it.
I was also happy to talk to him about life. I’m very aware that he’s going through some rough times right now. It’s more than being “unhappy,” I know that he’s dealing with Depression. And that makes me hurt a bit; he’s a great person, very fun and talented, and I just wish his body and mind would let him understand that.
Last night, after midnight and as we walked around the west side to find cabs to our respective apartments, he said something that struck me. He stated that he believed he has to remain in pieces. It’s what he knows and understands about life. He worries that if he were put back together, he wouldn’t like the idea of being fragmented and chipped like an old, repaired piece of china.
It’s jarring to hear that. I want him to take the steps he needs to take to get in a better place.
I believe there is NO ONE out there who isn’t fragmented or chipped in some way. (If we go through life without a few bruises or bumps along the way, what kind of life are we really living?) I believe there is no one out there who doesn’t sport scars they’d like to erase or keep hidden.
Yes, I know that some scars are deep and painful and traumatic. Some scars are life-changing.
Some aren’t worth thinking about after they occur.
But we all have them.
And I believe the act of accepting that, of owning that we’ve all put ourselves back together at some point or points in our lives, of understanding that everyone has used some kind of glue to keep it all together (whether that glue be family or religion or art or exercise or a dog or children or work or money or clothing or drugs or alcohol or even pain), of knowing that despite our damages we all keep moving, that’s a huge epiphany to have.
It helps me. I’m the first person to admit that I’m a little off at times.
But I accept my cracks. I try to accept them. Sometimes I really do.
So, Mikey, I really wish you strength; I get the struggle your slogging through.
We all slog along at times.
None of us are really alone in that.