love & madness & liberation

i thought i WAS going personal on you for the last bunch of them! i was ranting/rambling/raving about capitalism, as per usual.

i haven't read the articles on class yet, mostly because i am trying to write a final paper, and if i read anything at all other than the words in the facebook game, "geo challenge," it should be housing theory--my assignment is to pretend i am a city planner and write up a plan for housing for the entire city. geo challenge, by the way, is just as addictive as snood or text twist, and perhaps equally mind-numbing, but, as i tell myself and as all of my similarly addicted friends have been telling themselves and each other-- at least we're learning something (skills involved: flag recognition, country recognition by shape, and locating cities by name on a map of the world, proximity counts).

yesterday i went to the personal thesis of a person named intisar abioto. it wasn't a performance, she said. she is about to leave wesleyan, and it was a personal thesis-- not for faculty, or a grade, or, as far as i can tell, anything except the emotional/spiritual/otherwise fulfillment that it brought her and those of us there with her. she choreographed a senior thesis dance, but she didn't dance in it, and as she said-- she's a dancer, too. this is her website. this is the blog that inspired this blog, which she keeps with her four sisters.
it wasn't just a performance, she said, because it was about all of us there, too. we could at any time say or do anything we felt like.
she sang, and danced, and talked about being, about voices. about love, leaving and goodbyes, and memory and movement and change and sorrow and feeling.
what struck me most was when she said to us,
when you sing, when you write, when you talk, when you dance, when you create, when you do anything it is really just all one thing.
... which i found a comforting thought, right now when it all seems so fragmented.
it all= college, timing, values, decisions, bodies, weather patterns, relationships, words.