I've been cleaning. And, by that, I mean, a lot. My shelves are beginning to look barren, and I still feel like I own too much stuff. Of all of my cleaning, physical items are much easier to deal with. But I haven't completely decided what parts of my brain need cleaning, if any do.

While going through my books for what seems like the seventh time (though I believe it was only the third), I came across The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, and decided to reread it for memory's sake. Turns out I'd forgotten how much that book affected me. But that's a topic for another day, ha. Maybe I'll make a list.

Another thing that's amazing to me is that I'm really, really good at choosing books/television series that somehow relate to my life at that point in time without a conscious effort. Because, at least somewhat, the Lena/Kostos pairing assisted the subsequent Lina/Atalos pairing, and well, my viewpoint on the Phoenix boy affects the way I relate to everyone I love, whether that love be familial, platonic, specific, inherent, or romantic. As a teenager (for a little under two more years), obviously this topic tends to snag my brain often.

Love is caffeine to my soul. I feed it, nourish it. When it goes bad, I fertilize it. Consciously falling out of love--or stopping love of any kind--is not an option for me. I'm a Taurus, and I say that a lot, but it's true. I'm stubborn. I latch onto things, people, and I never let go.

I suppose that's why, as I watched Lena fight her fears and give her painting to Kostos (and those who are close to me may realize exactly how many ways this very action parallels my life), I just thought. And as certain people entered my mind, I felt my absolute adoration for them course through my body. The last thirty pages of that book took forever, despite the easy language and the book's familiarity to me. It's hard to focus on a fictional storyline when your real life's storyline is playing out so beautifully and taking over your entire being, you know?

Recently, I've been trying to do a duo of paintings. I like the concept quite a lot, and even my father (who sometimes doesn't seem supportive of anything non-scientific at all) told me he thought it was a neat one. I've been making slight progress on them, but there's just.. not a drive. And when I look at my art, I make observations. The ones that I can take the most care with, the ones that I'm most excited about are the ones that have some degree of love fueling them. Overall, they're finished faster and they're done better.

Thankfully, I'm finally learning to channel it. Well, sort of. I'm gaining the ability to use love for different people (as opposed to the same person continually) for art if I so wish. Whether or not they realize it. Whether or not they return it. Whether or not they care.

Because, see, that's the beautiful part about love.

They don't have to.

Anyways, this whole constant love-on-the-brain thing combined with the boredom of summer probably means a lot of art. Be warned.