Went for a walk through the neighborhood today, looking for pretty things to take pictures of. It was five o'clock already when I had the idea, so I couldn't go far. Plus, the batteries in my camera were low and we didn't have any more. I went anyway. I think I need to do more spontaneous things.
These clover (clovers?) were in somebody's front lawn. I was struck by a sudden urge to find one with four leaves. I did a quick reconnaissance of the street around me, then crouched and started hastily shuffling through the teeny plants. Every time I heard a car approach or thought I saw a movement in a window in the corner of my vision, I would promptly straighten up and casually start strolling down the sidewalk. Then, as soon as the car/kid on a bike/dog walker had turned a corner or gone far enough down the way that they wouldn't be able to see me, I would resume my task. My fingers located each stem and determined that only three leaves were attached to it, time after time, between nervous glances at the front window of the house whose lawn I was trampling on.
I think I searched that clover patch pretty thoroughly, but no four-leafed clovers presented themselves. I'm just waiting for bad luck to strike.
Maybe I shouldn't have looked. Maybe I should have just glanced at the patch and not known whether one was there, but left the possibility open that maybe there was.
I guess I like to be sure of things. Hence being year of the Boar on the lunar calendar.
Walking home, I decided to cut through my school because it was getting dark and I needed to get home. I love being at school during the day when it's empty. I don't know why. I guess because it's just so suffocatingly crowded during the school day, it seems really spacious and nice when there aren't thousands of bodies shoving and bumping past you constantly.
But in the dark, it was creepy. I kept thinking somebody was going to jump out of the shadows at me, and I had this odd sensation that I wasn't supposed to be there, like students are not allowed on campus when it's not school hours. It would a have been a good time to commit suicide, have my first kiss, get beat up, lose my mind, get inspired to write a really edgy poem, pass out, or meet a mysterious stranger.
None of these things happened. I scuttled away, frightened by the spooky ambiance.
My duct tape/comic strip pencilcase that I talked about earlier:
I'm using it to store all my markers and Sharpies. I saw this tote bag in a boutique in Monterey a loooong time ago that had this sort of comic strip collage design. But, being in Monterey, it was a large sum. I don't remember how much, but I remember thinking that it was not worth it, no matter how cute it was.
I think I might make a tote bag, because the little pencilcase I made was really pretty durable and not crappy like most other little experiments of mine turn out. I have made a tote before with a T-shirt, and I think I can convert the method to duct tape.