Congrats to those of you who have finished junior year, and hang in there for those of you who just have a few weeks left to go! My last day of school was on Friday, though I didn't really realize it until graduation today. Even so, I don't feel like a senior, I feel like an Eloise.
This summer I'll be doing the Leadership Program at Girls Camp, and I can't wait to hop a plane to Maine and be among friends (nearly family, anyway!) again. For the two weeks before I leave I'll be working at a music camp, coaching little trumpets and being a role model and all that jazz.
My junior spring has been a rollercoaster, filled with plays and good books, a lot of writing, and some ceramics thrown in for good measure. It's been wonderful being able to spend time with the NYC folk whenever things get muddled. My a cappella group finished recording our CD, and I'd be happy to send you guys copies and suchlike if you like... my song this year was 'Fidelity', and I actually ended up winning a prize at the Horace Mann Acappellooza for best soloist! Here's a link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DrPOrkAIqEA
I miss you all terribly. I recently had to describe it to a friend that I've grown apart from since the semester. It's like our hearts are puzzle pieces and while I was with all of you, mine found a shape that felt good, and right, because it fit with all of you and that was perhaps the most natural love I've ever experienced. But when I got back, my piece just couldn't fit with hers anymore, and I, remembering all of you, accepted that. But she didn't know any of that, and she won't know how that works until she goes to college in the fall. It's hard when you grow away from somebody, and can see how much they're hurting. Stepping away is not something that comes to me naturally. I've learned to do that, since I've been back. Sometimes I'm afraid that I've grown colder, less receptive. But all I have to do is meet up with somebody from Chewonki to know that that simply isn't true, because I can't cram myself back into a box I don't fit in anymore, and that I need to be with people that I love to see that.
Erm, so that rambled a bit like a briar patch story. I had this idea that stories are like the brambles that grow around castles and that you have to hunt around the thorny tendrils (these being words) to find raw emotion (whimsically taking the form of an animal, of course). I also had this idea for an formula for inner peace...
I love you all. Do keep in touch while I'm at Debsconeag.
Love,
Eloise
