chantico: (Default)
We are under a PDS Tornado Watch all day her ein good old Indiana. PDS stands for "Particularly Dangerous Situation", and means the the circumstances are perfect for violent, large scale tornadoes of the F4 and F5 variety. (These were the warnings that Birmingham and Joplin got).

Dreams last night about sharks, deep and terrifying oceans, betrayal, literal glass houses, giant squid tearing off chunks land and dragging them to the deep, tentacles, black ooze, domestic violence, being pushed off cliffs, eating cats.

I am a little bundle of nerves.

****

Not much else to say and I need to get off the internet and get to work, so another (appropriate) project and then moving on:

8. Natural Disaster paintings

I have a bunch of crazy destruction pictures in my head and a burning urge to get them out there in a series of paintings. Let's hope I don't get to have some first hand experience for reference, hah ha, sob.
chantico: (Spazzy)
Last night we were awakened at 6 AM by an unholy noise. It was something incredibly loud, but didn't sound AT ALL like thunder-- it didn't have the timber, the rumble or the crack that would hve preceded a peal of thunder that noisy. The rattle could have been the windows shaking, it was seriously that deafening. We weren't the only ones that heard it-- the neighbors did, too. [livejournal.com profile] moonartemis76 conjectures that it sounded like a transformer exploding, but there are no repair trucks or power outages today. [livejournal.com profile] deadmanwade thinks it might have been a dumnpster the slipped when people were unloading it in the apartment complex right behind us, but the noisy was less a clatter and more an explosions. Quite honestly, it sounded like I was standing next to a giant furnace with something direly wrong with it . . . at least, that's what it conjured in my dream right before it woke me up. THE MYSTERY CONTINUES. Any theories?

EDIT: THE MYSTERY NO LONGER CONTINUES. Witnesses saw the lightning flash. It *was* thunder, just . . . very, very weird thunder.

In other vaguely related news, my war with my dreams over lucidity rights continues, with a key battle won in my favor. Those who know me and my struggle with this are aware that lucid dreaming is incredibly difficult for me-- not because I am not aware of my dreaming state, but because my dreams HATE ME. Or, at least, they fight back viciously, and usually the incredible force of will it takes to enforce my vision on the dreamstuffs turns into actual physical force and I wake myself up with every muscle in my body straining. I have read that one of the tricks to getting yourself to have more control is to try an look at your hands when you dream, and I've been attempting this for some time now. Mostly, I usually just forget to try once I'm aware that I'm dreaming. However! Last night, I actually remembered, and forced myself to look at my hands. They were warping in a surreal way, but also far more detailed than most of the dream-- I could see the lines in my palm and the like. The most interesting part was that, as soon as I focused on them, I realized that they were ridiculously stiff, and I couldn't open them fully; almost like they were arthritic or frozen from lack of use.

Of course, in typical fashion, I expended so much energy trying to open them I woke myself up. But it is a step!

I have stupid amounts of homework to do. Perhaps, today, there will be tea. It seems like a tea day.
chantico: (Default)
Holy crap, was it a nightmare trying to walk around this morning. My butt hurts from the ridiculous amount of pratt-falling I did. It did tickle my funny bone, at least, even if I missed my bus because I stpped out onto a parking lot/solid sheet of ice, went head over heels, and then fell over three more times trying to stand up. I have managed to ambulate around doing the ever useful penguin waddle-- that special side to side shuffle with itty bitty footsteps. I must have looked ridiculous.

That and music have been helping me combat that horrible, no good, very bad, absolutely fucking rotten feeling I woke up with this morning. I had an archetypical dream of realizing that I'd forgotten to study for something very important school wise-- except this very important thing was that my Painting class had decided to preform appendectomies this week on each other, and I was supposed to go under the knife tommorrow and then preform the same operation on a fellow student 4 hours later.

This speaks volumes about how I feel on the subject of oil painting/school in general at the moment. It also speaks volumes about my memry right now, which is CRAP. Even worse than usual. So if I forget anything important people, I'm very sorry . . . I'm not quite sure what's going on, though I have a feeling it's stress related. I know anxiety can eat up a good chunk of your memory processes, so maybe that's it.

Bah, I don't want to even get into that right now.

Um . . . yeah, that's all.

(PS: I cannot believe I spelled appendectomy right)
chantico: (Default)
*pokes head out*

What the fuck happened to Bloomington yesterday? Aside from like, ten people getting the stomach flu, I know a bunch of other *really bad shit* happened as well. I'm gathering reports to see if it was just the gaming circle or more widespread; early indications are of an overall psychic shit storm, as I'm getting more stories of craziness from outside sources.

I dreamed last night of a horrible black apocalyptic pall falling over Bloomington, and other sundry nightmares of all sorts.

A serious OMFG GET BETTER to all who had the crap kicked out of them yesterday, a silent thank you to the universe for not inflicting it upon me outside of interrupted and mewling sleep (knock on wood), and hopes that it has passed.
chantico: (Default)
What is it about spiders? I have been dreaming about them so much for weeks. When the trend began, the dreams were more of the AUGH SPIDER type thing, where I would run flailing from it and it would chase me. Now I keep dreaming of them as pets . . . disturbing pets I don't like, but pets none-the-less. Lots of spider imagery around me, too. What do they represent? Does anyone know?

Life going pretty good. Still busy, but not quite as bad. Staying at home more has relaxed me some, thouhg I am SO ready for christmas break. Kind of excited for black friday, which is *ridiculous*, but I had a lot of fun last year, even with the crazy.

Tried out Deadwood on Netflix, and found myself surprisingly unimpressed. It's well written, and very violent and gritty, but I find myself bored before the end of the episode and only vaguely interested in what is going on. And it feels claustrophbic, which is something curious I've never noticed before about shows. The set doesn't really change much, and all of the shots are cramped and dark and closed up. *shrugs* not my thing, I guess. Though I do find Calamity Jane to be a fascinating (if irritating) character.

A couple of things I could use people's help with:

1. I *desperatly* need photoshop, of any year. I haven't painted since August, and I have tons of projects and commission built up. If anyone has a Photoshop CD, I would kill to get my hands on it.

2. I also need a motherboard for my desktop, so I can make it work again (yayharddrivenotbeingdeadIhope). Anyone know where I can get a cheap one?

And hey, more art recommendations.

This time with working links! )

Moon

Nov. 14th, 2006 10:19 pm
chantico: (Reflective)
I woke myself up last night by talking in my sleep. I was dreaming about being at Lothlorien in the winter, during a festival and talking with my dad; about what, I don't remember, and then wandered away, up the gravel road where it dissapears into the dark trees. It was . . . disquieting. I've been doing that walk alone since I was seven or eight, and it is always creepy, even more so in dreams. No noise but the creak of dead and dying branches and the susserations of dried leaves, and sometime scuffling things in the underbrush. Even under a cloudy sky, the road is white enough that you can see it, even if sometimes only by not looking directly at it-- and when the stars are out, or the moon, it glows bright enough that it lights up the trees around it. Through them, far off, I can see my old house, shining like bone in the light. I feel hunted, so I decide to leave, and I kick my heel against the ground, turning up towards the purple and white sky behind me as I float up off the ground, arms wide, towards the face of a suddenly terrifying moon. I try to speak it's name, but the effort of getting that moaning syllable out makes me work my waking throat, and instead of lifting into the sky, I lift back into my body, the transition tingling like carbonation. I'm left staring at the ceiling, a sleepy and curious Anya looking at me with pricked ears.

I am glad for the warning. Today had a similar feel haunting me all day, nipping at my mind. Inverted communication and disquiet. I decided not to give in, and do something about it, so I have been forceably cheerful all day, and it has worked. Around me, however, I witnessed people fighting *everywhere* . . . on the phone, in tha halls, in their cars. It was surreal. Boyfriends crying over girlfreidns, girlfriends nagging boyfriends, husbands chastising wives and wives screaming at strangers.

I bought raspberries instead. I suppose that's a less offensive way of flipping off the universe.

Creativity keeps knocking on my window panes. I should make use of that.

EDIT: Fixed the links. Whoops!

Some more art reccomendations )
chantico: (Reeling)
You know, I just just thinking recently how irritating it was that I didn't have anything interesting to say on here, mostly because I've been so busy and dealing with so much that I haven't had proper time for contemplation. Having to set aside some of my loftier goals to address those ever present mundane problems means that I've felt rather ancy and shallow the past fews weeks. Appearently, my subconcious agreed. Or *something*. Because, uh, wow, I had a holy shit experience this morning. Cut for those who wouldn't want to read about pyschic dreams, Magic, death and all around weird shit.


All aboard the U.S.S. Kick-In-The-Pants )

Je-sus. What a massive boot to the head.

Yeah . . . I'm wearing my Death of the Endless tee-shirt today.
chantico: (Nervous)
I just got woken up at 4 AM after one and something hours of sleep from a disturbing dream by my roommate calling me and leaving me a bizzarre voicemail where I can hear crackling voices but cannot make out what is being said.

When I called him back to find out why the FUCK he calling me and leaving me weird voicemailsat four fucking Am, he tells me that he, in fact, was no where near the phone at the time, and did not call me.

I am, therefore, NOT SLEEPING AND DESPERATELY TRYING TO TO THINK HORRIBLE NIGHT TERRORY THOUGHTS.

This is, however, not working very well.

I keep hearing things.

Oh dear.

Hear we go . . .

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