I am taking the car on a trip somewhere un-urban this afternoon. so I can find an open stretch of road and make a video of telephone poles as they pass by. would you believe that it's stuff like this that makes me want to choreograph. (telephone poles passing quickly. the undercarriages of train tracks. wide swaths of sidewalk.)

yesterday I got slightly scolded by my therapist for talking myself out of applying to mfa programs this year. it was scolding of the nicest sort, and she called it "feedback" and asked if I wanted it first. yeah. that's the kind of scolding I want. the kind that says, hey! listen up: do you know how many times you've said you want this? don't be dumb.

aside from the grad-school advocacy, my therapist's advice to me is uncannily, perpetually similar to my boyfriend's. a lot of: quite being dumb! listen to yourself! you are good. now is the time to shut up with all the self-turned bad-mouthing!

yeah. it's good. but it takes quite a while to keep hearing that before it clicks.