Grace's information

Activities:

Tim, reading, writing, arithmetic, martial arts, chess, taking candid photographs, dancing, leaving the country, cooking, music-making, running or sleeping, being awake, sharing, imitating sound, disappearing, barefoot chasing, illustrating anatomy, flower picking, training to be an irreligious saint.

Interests:

I like all books, itchy sweaters, gardens, character, evolution, old cities, forests, roller coasters, photographs of trees, hybrid apples, the colour "seabluegreen", genetics, mittens, scent, change, persistence, mentis similarities, architecture, strange friends, friendly strangers, wiping bubbles off my skin after baths, backgammon, coffee spirals, number associations, boxer briefs and mens' v-neck tops, childrens' museums, train of thought, juice boxes, windows, begonias, memory, language, solitude, crowds, elaborate metaphors with subtlety, absoluteness, vinegar, correction, learning to use musical instruments, memory, humour, fog, bottles, histories of any things beings, sandcastles, handwriting, big merry suppers, physics, self, wizard height, Bering Strait, atomic orbitals, horses on the beach, graffiti, significant and simple, uniform slacks, coconut, farmers, yellowing film, Lake's demanding tone, diving, compassion, nude beaches, magnificent commonplace, immunities, sensitivity, lists, memory, enthusiasm, Neville Longbottom, sour candy, walking patterns, ferocity, revolutions, resolution, revelations, alliterations, mint chocolate ice cream, Spider-man, disguised art, witch homes, brass goblets with thrones, visualizing stories as they're read aloud, hopscotch, decorating cupcakes, tea with honey, jumping in cold seas, walking by my self, collar bones, being polite, veracity, and nothing else because I also like saying extreme things that are obviously untrue.

Favorite Music:

Nina Simone, Rush, Bob Dylan, 50- 70's preferably, James Taylor, Howard Blake (with the help of Aled Jones), Shigeru Umebayashi, Nitin Sawhney, Tool, Jason Mraz, Otis Redding, Alicia Keys, Mozart, Gotan Project, Zbigniew Preisner, Of Montreal, Bach is real rock, Hootie, Amy Winehouse, Rufus Wainwright, Magnetic Fields, Percy Sledge, Ben Harper, Al Green, Damien Rice, Wilson Pickett, Jon Brion, The Cure, vocals and saxophones, headbanging and salsa, appropriate lyrics, men in harmony, violinists, my piano, slouching guitars, my 14 year old heavy metal, all 90's music I think, bagpipes or fiddles, subway musicians, bongos,

Favorite TV Shows:

Planet Earth, House, LOST, Everwood, Arthur, BBC, Curb Your Enthusiasm, South Park, late night TLC, Little Bear, Franklin, Rhupert, Babar, documentaries on the science channel, history channel, X-Files

Favorite Movies:

Beauty and the Beast, Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain, Little Murders, The New World, Preparez vos mouchoirs, The Meaning of Life, The Secret Garden, Wind in the Willows, The Snowman, Billy Elliot and every other dancing movie, dubbed martial arts flicks, black and white gore, mostly anything with analytic or outrageous humour, Searching for Bobby Fischer, Aishwarya Rai, Elizabeth, no romantic comedies with the exception of Hugh Grant, and The English Patient.

Favorite Books:

Mimbulus Mimbletonia
Je t'inventerai
Des mots insensés
Que tu comprendras
Je te parlerai
De ces amants-là
Qui ont vu deux fois
Leurs coeurs s'embraser
Je te raconterai
L'histoire de ce roi
Mort de n'avoir pas
Pu te rencontrer

Favorite Quotes:

"I cannot pretend to feel impartial about colours. I rejoice with the brilliant ones and am genuinely sorry for the poor browns."

"Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?"

And greatest, "It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion, it is easy in solitude to live after your own; but the great man is he who, in the midst of the world, keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude."

About Me:

I'm discrete. My mum is a Welsh Native American and my papa is an Italian Jew.

"Eternally silly, easily tipsy, occasionally chilly, ever so pretty, not a sissy, rarely prissy, deceptively gritty, surprisingly witty. A hopeless romantic, or maybe just a hopeful romantic. Temperamental, or maybe just mental. A prima ballerina on a spring afternoon. This years model. And next years, and the year after that. Equal parts guiltless schoolgirl and femme fatale. Little boy, she’s from the street. Before you start, you’re already beat."

"She was a desert rose with a boxers nose and wise white eyes that were never surprised "

"Grace, get dressed."
"Where are we going?"
"We can go return that game and pick up Pirates of Az'kaban for Lake."
Lake and I laughed.
"Do I have to get dressed?"

Watson "Chunky WeeWee" Little Bear

"There we have it - 141 photographs."
"What's this?"
"They're off the toilet. Watson brought them,"
"Jiminy Christmas."

I'm sorry, little lightning bug, that I watch you fly around the monitor and land on tissues in their box. I'm sorry that I won't capture you and free you outside in the new morning, but I've never touched a lightning bug and I don't want to try. Recently, I've heard a lot of people say that insects are mindless, but I think that right now you're watching me and wondering why I'm only watching you, and I'm sorry.
I'm too keen on typing and sensing myself become more imbued with romance and... I think I should sleep.

iko iko

Jotting down mind wanderings is priority:

 · Sucking on a frozen cube of cream soda
 · Citrus and honey salts, I soaked with the window open and two candles lit. My body feels like Autumn
 · I appreciated smells greater when I was seventeen, I touch more now
 · Last summer, I found myself sitting beside a boy I hadn't seen in over ten years. We had a romance when we were in primary school. I feared seeing him again when I was younger because he had known me when I was most vulnerable.

My vision was blurry and I looked over to see him watching me. My memory is mostly of his mouth. I told him that he has petite teeth. He told me, "I've never known anyone as great as you." I put my head on his shoulder. When standing, I saw that he was barely to my eyes - I didn't mind.

He once told another girl in our lives that he liked her more than me because she looked like Cinderella for her blonde locks, and I was merely Belle. I scoffed at him and had him love me by putting our pillow cushions beside each other when watching films in the sitting room. My mum said that as a child, it was only to I that he was kind. He had a sarcastic air with the others.
 · My return to the country house ignited a feeling of satisfying remoteness
 · An ivi is a Tahitian chestnut tree
 · My childhood friend, Chelsea, often had me promenade to entrance boys with her during summer nights in town squares, parks, or boardwalk lengths. It amused her that I would change my path in an abrupt turn once walking in a certain direction became dull. I remember looking at her strangely when she told me this. The only boy I ever found attractive on those excursions was a character that ignored girls and fought his friends at school. I am attracted to tempers.

I've read 1/3, the irreducible fraction, of The Deathly Hallows. "He's not coming with us?"
I used my nightgown to dry my eyes, walked down the steps, made two batches of butter beer, gathered Watson, and brought him back into my bedroom to accompany me.

A light knot at the base of my throat to tell
But I so enjoy the secrecy

Sugar plums soft bitten, spit out the pit then
Charter yacht for the day and a night in Lazy Jack Inn on the water

"I don't believe in ritual - I don't find truth in it. I believe that priests love Jesus, I can love Jesus through them, but if I go in a room and read the bible, I find ethics, moral code. I'm left with my appreciation of stars, trees, mathematics, three sided triangles, gravity, light, sound, life in general. I strive to understand how everything works, the fundamentals of nature, why a person feels the way they feel so I can study them, figure out what affects them to make sure I fit in. I spent my entire life with those things being my religion -- I've only known you for one year and everything else seems like a blade of grass in my life. I love you. You are my definition of love, there is nothing greater than you." Tim, sitting with me, tears welling in his eyes after our monthly argument, 22:00

The Book About Me

    Yesterday, in a used book shop, at the back of a narrow isle in the non-fiction section, I sat on a step ladder and read the introductory page of the first chapter in two Winston Churchill books, the first I hadn't recalled, a leather-bound book of European history from 1926, and reviewed the adequacy and length of the Mount Olympus summary in a large Mythology textbook. I placed the second Churchill book back on the shelf beside a book on his mother, and carried the rest to the cluttered desk in the front. Beside their aged Macintosh computer, there were books for gardening, Bronte illustrations, Winnie the Pooh, which I inspected, and caricatures. I looked through a petite book which claimed to contain the world's knowledge. The first twenty pages were blank, then a centered quote on a single page, and another twenty blank pages. I put the book down and watched the woman write down the prices of my books and deck of cards from Salem, Virginia. She was originally from Connecticut, obvious dialect. She was in her seventies. Original teeth, pin-striped shirt, keen sense of humour, knew the score of the Phillies game, which Tim told me is a Philadelphia baseball team, her colleague in the shop said that their win would tire them for the next few games.
    I paid with my bank card, placed the deck in the pocket of my white slacks, and handed the paper bag of books to Tim, additionally containing a massive history of chess for my precious. We walked outside, I questioned if I should apply for my first job, and returned. I explained that I live in Manhattan, go to school there, despite those details, I would like to work in their bookshop of two employees and erase pencil marks from old pages. The Connecticut woman smiled gloriously and laughed when I mentioned that my parents think it's time for me to gather myself a first job. It isn't necessary, and there is no better place for me to work than a musty store of books to the ceiling where I can concentrate among quite and sell books to willing persons. She sent me to speak with the woman in her sixties, I gave her identical explanation, was sent back to the woman at the desk to give my "name, number, address, and all that." I believe I have good standing with her, for I held the door open as she initially entered.
On a long drive to our French restaurant among roads with vines hanging from electrical wires, I decided that I will instead be employed at a used book shop I frequent in Manhattan.


    These are excerpts from the first ten pages of the Winston Churchill biography. I chose this book for its portrayals of our evident similarities, in the perspective of an admiring friend. It is so parallel that I feel as though it is also about my self. I read it aloud to Tim and he is equally astonished. There is no one else so close to being like me, aside from my father, he said.

    "First and foremost he was incalculable. He ran true to no form. There lurked in every thought and word the ambush of the unexpected. I felt also that the impact of life, ideas and even words upon his mind was not only vivid and immediate, but direct. Between him and them there was no shock absorber of vicarious thought or precedent gleaned either from books or other minds. His relationship with all experience was firsthand.
    "My father and his friends were mostly scholars, steeped in the classical tradition, deeply imbued with academic knowledge, erudition and experience. Their intellectual granaries held the harvests of the past. On many themes they knew most of the arguments and all the answers to them 'nothing new under the sun.' But to Winston Churchill everything under the sun was new--seen and appraised as on the first day of Creation. His approach to life was full of ardor and surprise. Even the eternal verities appeared to him to be an exciting personal discovery. And because they were so new to him he made them shine for me with a new meaning. However familiar his conclusion it had not been reached by any beaten track. His mind had found its own way everywhere.
    "Again--unlike the scholars--he was intellectually quite uninhibited and unself-conscious. He did not seem to be the least ashamed of uttering truths so simple and eternal that on another's lips they would be truisms. Nor was he afraid of using splendid language. Even as I listened, flowing and vibrating to his words, I knew that many of captious and astringent friends would label them as 'bombast,' 'rhetoric,' 'heroics.' But I also knew with certainty they would be wrong. There was nothing false, inflated, artificial with his eloquence. It was his natural idiom. His world was built and fashioned in heroic lines. He spoke its language.

    "...I noticed with deep anxiety that hardly a word had passed between them. In answer to my solicitous inquiries she told me that after an aeon of unbroken silence she made a frontal attack and said to him: 'Do tell me--what on earth are you thinking about?' He replied: 'I am thinking of a diagram' and relapsed into complete absorption. She added: 'I don't like people who make me feel as though I wasn't there.' In later years they became fast friends."

During the past seven days, I have turned five pounds of massed fat into muscle, ordered ten rolls of sushi, which I ate with brimming sauce trays of 酢, read The Scarlet Letter, The History of the Peloponnesian War, Othello, the Moor of Venice thrice, and Optics by Sir Isaac Newton. I have mastered standing position yoga, gone to Niagara Falls, stayed in the seabluegreen glass walled Sheraton overlooking the waterfalls, swam in the indoor pool with a durable balm of chlorine, purchased a sun tent for the beach, adjacently sustained the 600,000 gallons of water manifested each second by the Canadian falls,
    I had speechless reciprocation for tremendous nature.
    I looked up with the white mist blanketing my glasses
    and felt humbled, beholden to it. I imagined leading
    a boat to the brink and leaping forward off the prow.
I began a phrenic list of the types of trees I've seen in my life, survived a car crash on Independence Day

Drunken holiday enthusiasts ... He rode in unnecessary haste down an alley way, then plowed past the front of my car, causing damage to only the bumper and right headlight. The opponent spun into a pole, thence revealed a man sporting no compliance with the accurate size of his apparel. A slug, he picked up the pieces of his car in the street, and with every ounce of balance and enlightenment, said, "Man, people just gotta slow down."
Yes. Beautiful as a mayfly.

I purchased maple syrup and sugar plum preserves in Upstate New York, taken nearly 2 gigabytes of digital photographs, additional roll of film, lit roughly twenty packages of sparklers and amateur fireworks, cut my hair evenly to my collarbone due to heat, along with my sister's and mother's, received Elizabeth Arden's Mediterranean perfume from Tim, added two more of Watson's teeth to a brass container on my vanity, added two more images given by characters from Animal Crossing to a table in the video game, enjoyed my father's great joke about cookies on a grave, and I have been scheduled for New York jury duty for the first time in my life.
And I wore my deceased grandmother's wedding ring on my thumb for two days. I might have received bad luck from it.

Cranberry Raspberry Marshmellow Ice Cream

The good life, as I conceive it, is a happy life. I do not mean that if you are good you will be happy - I mean that if you are happy you will be good.

I held a baby toad yesterday. This is a monumental happening.

Yellow hued photographs with humidity flash, sailor shorts, sandals, sun burnt cheeks, and wet lip smiles
pebbles in pockets