fleeting life

Today Eva Kutscheid passed away after a long battle with cancer that i had no idea about until today.

facebook is an odd thing.

Who was Eva?

Eva among other things was an amazing printmaking teacher at booker t. washington highschool for the visual and performing arts. She was an inspiration and she pushed me really hard when i needed and hugged me when i needed. She taught me about tibet and we made prayer flags and participated in afterschool activities including watching the monks create the sand mandala and joining them in meditation. She opened up my mind to culture and the world and also warned me about the dangers of tequila by telling me a story i will never forget. i'm sort of shocked as I discovered today she had made a beautiful book about her struggles with cancer and passed away this morning.

I wish I had told her the effect she had, how i was sort of having a horrible time growing up and all my teachers that supported me and pushed me really made a difference. I wish i had said thank you so much for saving my life, for caring, for telling me that i can be something, and really making a big difference. thank you for extending my journey and improving the quality of my life and being hilarious and amazing. i wish i could hug you goodbye. I will honor you by continuing to follow my passions. You were so badass, an independent powerful woman with goddess like spirituality.

what a beautiful book by a wonderful woman:
http://www.blurb.com/books/4946195-journey


all of us lucky students thank you


Beca

Metaphorical feelings caution hazardous waste

Sometimes I think about this one romance I had. This guy had made me this wonderful necklace. We were sitting together talking and drinking and I leaned forward. The necklace hit my glass and broke off and shattered off of the necklace. I just remember thinking, feeling, like by breaking that necklace in that moment I had broken the romance. The sentimentality had leapt out of the necklace and turned into something else.

The rest of the night was fun and the romance continued.  It's just so weird, I had felt so guilty. Almost like someone who accidentally runs over a dog. 

Maybe it's crazy. But something was lost.

I used to wait for what seemed like hours for my mom at the bus stop in reality it was maybe an hour to a half hour. I just remember always being the last kid there. One year I was recruited to help the secretary In the principles office organize files at the bus stop. Often I would just be alone with my thoughts. Mostly I would assume she had been in a car crash and was late because she was enduring some near death experience and if I was patient enough she would make it out alive and come rescue me from my tormented boredom and morbidity. I also used to make these odd bets. If I can hold my breath for fifteen seconds she will be here In the next five minutes. Sometimes it would just get crazy these bets. If I can hold my breath until a red car passes I won't go to hell. 

Maybe I made a bet on the necklace. If I can keep this in tact this will last.

I think the bets represent an underlying problem. If I have to make a bet to feel that I'm in control of a situation then I'm uncomfortable, and possibly in a situation where I'm emotionally compromised. I just realized that, like right now. 

Emo.

Wanna bet?

Hate you,

             BECA

been a while

Hello,

         My nomadic lifestyle has led me back to crown heights. A part of crown heights with no stores and i really like it, that is, the vast emptiness of this part of Brooklyn compared with the overflow of the city. It's a good juxtaposition for me.

Im up to all kinds of things. I want to give a shout out to Obama care without which i may never have insurance. AHHH hahahaha. we will see how good it is. I am going to be featured in TIME OUT new york...... Apparently I am interesting to them. Very cool. I told them about what i like to do on the weekend.

FOR FUN!

life update....... ahhh just kidding. not ready to divulge. mystery is sexy.

or not.

i dont know.

bye nobody.

BecA