The emotive use of colour

Seasoning

I hear friends talking about how they hate summer and love winter because of the opposing fashions. But for me summer is not about fashion or sun or even tanning (I aspire to be pale and healthy) but summer for me is about the atmosphere and feeling I get, the feeling of freedom and not having any obligations to school (or for some even work). I spend most of my summers down at Aireys Inlet with my family and friends, our family have had a house there for over 20 years. Aireys Inlet is where I met my best friend - Lola Jennings-Edquist when we were not so much as one. We met at the beach and the beach is the place that has kept us in contact for so many years.

anyways...i always get offtrack, im talking about the atmosphere of summer, the warmth of the sun and the carelessness of the people.

here are a few snapshots from my previous summer.

one of my bestfriends sam > > > when we were at our friends house who just came home from overseas

------> Clearly a morning person..

Tribute..

Appartment.

ok well whenever i try and explain my house to people who have never been there they think i am insane...maybe its because i say i dont have walls. well i do, but they dont really reach the roof, and the matter of doors...there are only a couple. i tried to help people understand...by making this story thing..kind of like David Hiliard's photography. I am a big fan of his work, i love how he tells stories throught his style of photographs. I also love the subject matter and the particular stories that he tells. here are a few of his images....

Inter Pol.

Sitting back in inter pol, listening to my classmates having heated opinions on matters of politics. I generally just sit back and take in all the information, though I have many opinions of my own just don’t feel comfortable expressing them and then getting them torn down by a loud person who is good at arguing their point. I’m not saying that I have no knowledge about the topic or what I’m arguing, I’m just not that good at conflict, which is weird because when I argue about other things...such as feelings and people who have done me wrong I can tear my opponents argument apart. I think I just need more confidence in this class...which means more study. This is awkward because I have way too much to do, and I have trouble getting anything done on time. Which is my fault...I need to focus.
Sorry I really should not be bitching about school, but it’s just boring me recently. The classes are tedious and my friends are not appealing anymore. I live for the weekend which I guess most people do...actually I guess this is just a pointless post.
....something more interesting ok well I just got back from a three day out door ed. camp on Sunday that was an experience to remember.
All up there were about nineteen girls. the first night we all had a massive discussion which naturally was hilarious because we were so overtired that we were insane...the night ended when we tried to roast marshmallows on an inside fire, which lead to the fire alarm going off, which then lead to trouble :/
The next day we went through kayaking again and some navigation work. In the afternoon we learned to tie certain knots which we used to put up tarps...which we slept in that night. After dinner we went on this massive (or quite large) Rogaine cores which went from 7 until 9. We may have got lost and ended up in other various camp sites such as Wesley and Carey.
We then ran to the beach to get our last checkpoint, which was on the beach. This scene was amazing, there was phosphorous in the water so it was glowing it looked truly amazing.
And today I’m back at school; the hot topic seems to be the formal, which I need a little help on...

The other day I was on a train, on my way home from Gisbourne, and my friend confronted me with some rather interesting yet unsettling views about me. She described what she thought about my inner thoughts and motives behind actions. She ended up explaining to me about how she and I were always competing against each other with everything because we are so similar. At this point I was getting frustrated because I had the opposite opinion to the one she was trying to articulate (without hurting my feelings...I guess).

I have always thought the two of us to be quite different, and not very similar in our tastes at all especially when it comes to the inner workings of our mind, I’ve always thought that I was not a competitive person at all...especially when it comes to sport.

But getting to my point this conversation did end in tears, but not an argument just a very strong difference on opinion.

As she and I parted ways to our various houses I was thinking about how others view me and how I view others, if it is in fact easier to see yourself then it is to see others for who anyone truly is...or is it the other way round.

Although after that revelation I am now a little paranoid about how people see me and if they are psycho analyzing me to such an extent...it’s a little frightening to think about so ill leave you with a nice picture...sort of.

A Catch Up

Good evening, I know it’s been a while but I have been focused on my work after missing so much due to having my tonsils out, nice I know... One of my favourite things is being alone, on the holidays I was camping with friends in Pt Lonsdale, it was so nice to be self sufficient and without adults, but I guess in some way this wasn’t enough. I wanted to look after myself and do everything myself for once, I don’t know I guess it was just exciting. so on the last day of camping I was calling my father, stepmother and my mother...naturally (for them) no one answered, I was calling to find out if they were at the beach or back in Melbourne so I would know just to bus to Aireys Inlet or train back to the city. I became angry at their lack of response to my numerous calls and texts, so I made a decision to go to the beach house, with a small bag and no more than $5. Subconsciously I knew no one would be there, I knew that they would have called if they had gonee down. I then called dad asking "where are you?", there was a little anger on his part but in the end it worked out that I stayed there for a few days on my own, then I would bus and train back to the city.

It was basically one of the best weeks of my life; I could do anything I wanted.




The next week I had a tonsillectomy, it was an experience. As it was my first time staying in the hospital, I was naturally more excited to sleep there than worried about my operation and the aftermath. I was admitted on Thursday the 8th of April 9 days before my 17th birthday. they asked me many questions in front of my lovely insane mother, such as do you smoke?....whenever I am asked this I take a few seconds to answer, and that answer differs each time, the real answer that I should be giving everyone is a simple yes. But I just couldn’t say it, it was either 'I have before'....'socially'...or 'occasionally'...even though mother does know I just couldn’t give a direct answer...I think it was about the judgement of the hospital staff.


When I woke up, I couldn’t really see...or move in the ways I wanted to. I could speak perfectly...which was quite unexpected seeing as I had just had two infected pieces of tissue cut out of my throat, but it neither hurt nor had any impact on my voice....at that stage.



Over the next couple of days the pain got worse to the point of my refusal to eat anything for at least a week and a half (that time expanded over my birthday).


Which brings me to the topic of my seventeenth birthday, another fail of a day that is meant to be special...relating back to my old post about the celebration of birthdays...ANYWAY I was feeling like shit, I couldn’t speak or eat and I had no energy at all. well my lovely friends came over for a couple of hours, they brought me a cake and some brought gifts, it was lovely, but I had to force the cake down a very sore throat, I just wanted to sit in bed and watch Nip Tuck. My friends were so lovely and making the most of my mood, which I really appreciate, but I still wonder whether the start to my 17th year was an indicator to the rest of it, all I can say I hopefully not.