I actually felt pretty confident, which is a rare thing. Pretty sure I was the first one done.
A guy just walked by wearing a beautiful mustard plaid shirt. Envy.
Lucie and I were discussing this yesterday. We envy people who can wear metallic gold. This basically includes all people who have darker skin than us, be they Indian, Native American, or African American. I envy African-American cheekbones every time I see them. As Lucie put it, " I have never seen an unattractive African American." It's true. Their bone structure is so defined, unlike us caucasian sorts, who have flatter, potatoey-er faces. No offense. You can't deny it. Not that caucasians can't be beautiful. That'd be silly to say. I think I'm just too used to them.
I also envy African-Americans for their skin color, and the ability to wear gold like nobody's business. And mustard, one of my favorite colors, basicially only looks good on dark skin. I might look ok in it, but ONLY after a loooooong summer in the sun.
I painted my wrist with metallic gold paint today, just because I wanted to be shiny. In case you cared to know.
I am sitting in Coffman again by the windows, and the dude across from me looks terrible. No, I am not insulting his God-given looks. I am just pointing out that his right eye area looks very busted up, like he got hit in the face with a 2 x 4. I sort of want to ask him how he is feeling today, but he just put his sunglasses on, because he is sitting the bright sunlight, and I suppose that feels extra painful today. And he doesn't look very sociable.Lo siento, señor.
This V8 juice is good.And the escalator is temporarily stairs again.
I finally pulled out my bass for the first time in a couple weeks last night. It felt so good. I have felt very sadly deprived of communal music making. It is not a good feeling. I had Lucie pull up some old Garageband drumbeats to refresh my bass + drums skills. Slowly, this is coming back to me.
I am determined not to lose these bass skills. It's just a bit tricky to keep up with right now. Bass is not an independent instrument, by any means.
Ugh. I feel so rambley and dull lately. I think Beth got it right: I need a major. I need something to work towards and something that will routinely challenge me. And something that I am excited about almost every day. That sounds nice.
You know what else I miss? I miss design. No, not interior design. That was for sure not for me. But I like the design mentality, where something beautiful also has function. This is where art tends to be lacking for me. Art for the sake of art has a time and place, but I do not feel that I am meant to take part in that mentality. I think art can be applied to design very easily, and they definitely go hand in hand most days. Design is an art. Art is a design. This is what I like.
But, how does one turn that into a major? It's no cut and dry thing like management, where you learn business skills and lord over people the rest of your life. Nope. It's independent. And that is scary.
Wow, another long post. I missed this, as you can tell. Shmeh.
Perhaps I will go now.
I need to draw two self portraits by Thursday.
Let the funkiness begin.
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