Observations on Art 6.21

One of the ageless questions is one variation or another of what constitutes art. It's something that will be debated till the end of time as it has been since the beginning. I'll not bore you by pretending to know the answer to that but I found something yesterday that I most assuredly know is not art. Thailand may have talent, that in itself is debatable, but this sure as hell is most definitely not it.

"BANGKOK -- An episode of "Thailand's Got Talent" has stirred a morality debate after a contestant painted a canvas using her bare breasts, drawing a rebuke from the culture minister who called it 'very shocking.'"


link

By the look of the comments viewers agreed.
Okay, I have no idea what it says, and he/she/it gave it a thumbs up.
The only explanation for that is the viewer thought it was some sort of porn. But than again,
porn is art ....

เหตุผลพี่นี่สุดยอดไปเลย ว่างๆรบกวนคุณพี่แก้ผ้าเดินไปจ่­ายตลาดทีน่ะครับ คนที่ตลาดเค้าจะได้เห็นศิลปะที่­แท้จริง เหอๆ

Observations from the Bar 2.27

I was sitting at the bar watching the first ever Monday Daytona 500 which was also the first one ever run under the lights. This happened because of rain on Sunday which caused me to waste a Sunday afternoon at the bar with nothing to watch until a totally lousy Oscar show Sunday night. All things considered it was a normal race until it wasn't and just became totally bizarre. While the race was under yellow something broke on Juan Pablo Montoya's car causing him to spin up into a truck that was blowing off the track with jet engine, yes jet engine. The crash wrecked the truck's trailer and spilled 200 gallons of jet fuel onto the track which than ignited. While track crews put out the fire and cleaned up the mess the drivers wandered around the track talking as if they were stuck in traffic on the interstate.

I only bothered with that story because it ties in with something I had started writing earlier today. After watching the Oscar show last night I seem to have developed a social media pet peeve.  Anybody who knows me at all or reads this blog knows I have wildly varied interests. Art, politics, and sports constantly fight for space in my mind with other things that are always butting in. On twitter I just post whats on my mind or what I'm reading so you never know what you will get. Sometimes its the same thing for days on end and sometimes I go off in tangents by the hour.

Some people evidently have singular interests and others have accounts to just post on a single subject, both are fine with me. I have no prob with that because they usually have the best info or their subject anyway. What I do have a prob with is when some complain that other people aren't serious enough about the world's problems. I post about gay rights I lose followers, I post about Occupy I lose others, and the gods forbid anybody post about the Academy Awards because all hell breaks loose.

You know the world and its multiple problems are serious enough and we all need to escape now and than. Sometimes that includes watching a totally lame Oscar show and tweeting a photo of a gorgeous Milla Jovovich. Get the fuck over it.

For the record Milla looked totally awesome as does Danica tonight. Now back to racing.

Observations from the Coffee Shop 1.24

For better or worse Fridays always seem to be something special. The date or the moon can make them even more so but no matter what Fridays definitely are different.

Last Friday morning I was sketching/thinking on a notepad as I usually do at breakfast. Now Ash seems to have a more thinking artsie type of mind than I do, yes scary, more analytical where I tend to be theoretical. Anyway, out of nowhere she told me to write down whatever word popped into my head. Not necessarily from our conversation, just whatever word was on my mind. Than she told me to do it all day long.

For what it's worth here is my list of words. I didn't quite make it through the whole day because I knew I would post the list here and I could see where it was heading.

waffles, ugh, coffee, euros, Euros, effing euros, étrange, des conneries, putain, weather, speed, sushi, bold, ignorant, skittles, indigo, sapphire, newt, toad, asshat, miley, NOH8, trend, ignorance, tolerate, cubist, impressionist, crap, queer, abstract, blue, tension, sopa, 1Q84, style, stoner, Cuba, loathe, vq, hipster, ice, word, indulgent, silk, black, Corona, crayons, yakuza, tattoo, ninja sex ….

Observations from the Window 9.20

I always carry a real paper tablet in my backpack because I like to scribble, doodle, and sometimes just plain scratch. I also have a terrible short term memory so I write myself notes telling what I should but won't do. Somebody actually asked me today why I always have one, well it's to save these momentous thoughts. I did do a little editing and added some explanation so they make some sort of sense.

I love waking up and seeing Mika Brzezinski on my TV but lately Joe Scarborough has been pissing me off so I tend to turn the sound off until somebody is on I want to hear. She used to have competition over at CNN but I forget her name but there still is Stephanie Abrams on The Weather Channel.

Best tumblr titles I saw today, "Love Ends Hope Dies" and "Shit You Need To Know." In saying 'today' I'm saying I look at too damn many tumblrs. I wonder what happens when somebody reblogs a photo I already deleted? I wonder because that happened today. And why do so many tumblr blogs disappear the day after I find them? I'm getting a complex.

Sanity is relative but insanity, well, the jury is out on that.

Blog ideas.

List of food I should buy tonight but won't. I never seem to have food in the apartment, coffee and alcohol but no food. What's up with that? I drink way too much coffee, DP, and beer and nowhere near enough of that watery thing.

I sketch my own tat designs that I want to get and know I never will because I have a thing for needles, which also means I can't sew or knit worth a damn. Not that I ever really wanted to do either. I have absolutely no fingernails left, where have you gone my long black shiny nails? I miss you.

Mary is just hot, straight as the proverbial arrow but so effing hot.*scribbles this line out quick before anybody sees it.

Notes to call my sis, dad, Ash, and the paint free sample salesman guy sometime today. New paints are sweet but the dark shades seem a bit dull. I have to so get around to finishing a couple of art posts I was doing for somebody. Call Karson and see if she had enough shots, she would prob call me but it doesn't hurt to follow up. Talk to Ash at dinner about her internet art idea.

The whole Troy Davis thing make s me want to hurl. Seriously a former FBI Director, and President Reagan's no less, pleads for his release and the good ole boys of Georgia shrug and get out the needle. Pathetic.

Why do the Phillies just suck all of a sudden? Yeah I know the games don't matter at all but still. Wouldn't it be awesome to have Charlie Manuel as a granddad?

Chinese, Mexican, or burgers?

And this goes on every day.

Moby - New York New York

Observations from the Window 8.26

At times it seems like I might be mellowing in my old age because I just don't feel like writing about politics like I had been. Maybe it's the reverse that is true and I haven't mellowed at all but just don't want to write about it because when I do I think and when I think I just get pissed off. I'll go with that because I know I haven't mellowed at all and never will. I'm just destined to be the bitchy old woman at the artists' home in Montreuil which is a future I don't find all that unappealing.

I know I have talked before about writing more on art and photography only to get sidetracked by one thing or another but I'm going to try to do that once again. Last week I took a photography seminar at the Tisch School of Arts at NYU and it, like the Armory Show earlier this year, has me wanting to get some things written. While I was there I was looking into the course offerings and saw two I would really like to take, the Advanced History Seminar (photography) and Business of Art (photography). The problem is I really don't have the time to do either.

As for now I'm about to be sidetracked yet again as hurricane Irene is heading in my direction. I'm not too worried because I'm in evacuation zone C which is well outside zone A, and a block away from zone B. This is from the NYC Office of Emergency Management website, “Residents in Zone C may experience storm surge flooding from a major hurricane making landfall just south of New York City. A major hurricane is unlikely in New York City, but not impossible.” Damn, reading that makes me feel better already.

One sad thought has crept into my head and that is the idea that by Sunday morning 'my' beach house may be gone forever. Sitting on the beach in Stone Harbor it now seems that there isn't much chance of it not being hit hard. I toyed with the idea of driving down and sitting at Fred's as the storm rolled by but Stone Harbor already has evacuated non-residents and as of 5PM today all liquor sales will be suspended till Monday. Worst of all Foxy would be parked in the open and that I will not do.

Is it wrong that I worry more about my car than myself?

Jimi Hendrix - The Wind Cries Mary

Late afternoon update - Cape May County NJ ordered a mandatory evacuation of its barrier islands which include Stone Harbor, Fred's, and the beach house. Also New York City ordered the first mandatory evacuations in its history today. So far they just include zone A but that includes all of Battery Park City, Coney Island, and Rockaway Beach.

Observations from the Window 8.12

It may seem like I haven’t been writing much and this is true, it's just that there is so much bad news lately and I'm trying to keep a good mood going. I can't write about politics because I just get pissed off and go all negative as my tablet goes flying into the wall. I thought maybe I would write about what some would, and have, called a weakness of mine. It's just I have a thing for horoscopes. There I said it and i feel better already. Not that I live my life by them in any way because the gods know there isn’t the tiniest bit of truth there. I thought maybe a bit of description of a Leo woman was called for so I did some reading. You can decide for yourself.

Leo is the supposedly dramatic sign but is full of contrasts. While outwardly confident, aggressive and fearless Leos are inwardly sensitive and their feelings are easily hurt. They are the proverbial pussy cat in the lionesses' clothing. I read Leos can be playful, ambitious and loyal only to read on and see they are "quite egotistical, demanding, intolerant, domineering, lazy and stubborn." Because they hate ordinary day to day living they live life to the fullest, doing nothing the safe way, and in the end they thrive on drama.

In relationships Leos are trusting, loyal, emotional, and romantic. However they can equally become possessive and jealous if they don’t feel secure. "Always dramatic this is the sign most likely to have champagne, roses and satin sheets in their bedroom." I don't know about that, more likely beer, sunflowers, and flannel sheets. They are spontaneous adventurous lovers with a strong sex drive but their love of beauty makes them a bad judge of character and they are often disappointed. All things being equal Leo women are amongst the kinkier but a skillful partner soon learns that to be a 'good idea' something should be 'her idea' first.

"And the sign Leo is all about play, children, self expression… it is about getting in touch with your inner child. And, so it smiles brightly on the arts, all of them."

Bah it's all crap.

For the record, some of my fellow Leos: Amelia Earhart, Coco Chanel, Andy Warhol, Barack Obama, Jacqueline Kennedy, Jerry Garcia, Louis Armstrong, Madonna, Napoleon Bonaparte, Roman Polanski, Stanley Kubrick, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Alexandre Dumas, Leo Tolstoy, Mick Jagger, Claude Bragden, Bill Clinton, and Mario Bernardi.

Medina - Addiction

Observations on Art 7.16

No matter what I do I still always consider myself a painter first, a painter before anything else. Even as I spend most of my time on photos I still love to dabble in my paints just mixing one color or shade with another than dabbing some on an old canvas to see if I like it or if it is worth saving. Just a couple days ago I had lunch with my fav art guy who is going to get me some samples of a new Atelier acrylic that supposedly is easier to blend and comes in 75 colors and shades. I'm so excited because honestly I like to play with paint as much now as I did when I was a little girl with watercolors.

After my last post it came up that I can't seem to paint and do any serious photo work at the same time. My brain just doesn’t seem to function that way at all. To me photography is a much more externally generated art while painting is created internally. What I mean by that is that when I take a photo I am showing you what I see with my eyes. It may be distorted, modified, or transformed in some way but it is still what I actually saw and my brain has little to do with it. When I paint I am showing you what my brain sees which is a totally different and sometimes scary thing. I paint in abstract because I sometimes see the world in abstract which is something I won’t even try to explain now. What is strange is that my eyes see a simple world of b&w while my brain sees a colorful world yet totally distorted. Like I said hard to explain so I'll leave it to the shrinks.

As I said before my painting can involve days of isolation and a lot of tequila, nicotine, and caffeine with little if any food. I get in a zone where I'm totally into the painting and nothing else. It's what I do. For the first time in awhile I seem to be in the mood to paint. Not play with my paints but seriously paint something. It's a feeling I haven't had in almost two years now but it feels different in that I don't feel the need to run off to the liquor store to stock up on tequila and cigarettes. Not that I won’t be heading there but in ways I feel like a muse now lurks in the back of my brain and that inspiration replaces the need for some things. I was never one to feel inspired because inspiration seems such a random thing which always points you in the direction you were already heading anyway. It's also a fickle beast that comes and goes at its own time and place, usually when you least expect it. In the end it's best just to go with the wave and not try to force it because it simply goes where it will.

Things seem to change even as they remain the same. See what comes of it.

Keep in mind that I started this before my last post or what I'll call my 'insanity' post. So if it seems a little confusing no worries, my brain is confusing. Actually I have been writing this over so many days now I have no idea what it means.

The Good Natured - Skeleton

Observations from the Coffee Shop 4.10

This should have been posted as 'Observations from my Bed' but I was busy and never finished it. It would have been much more fitting a title though.

Sometimes I have dreams when I sleep. I know that is a strange thing to say but normally I don’t have them. There was a time that I did more often but that was long ago. I don’t know if it's the fact that I don’t sleep nearly enough, I drink too much, or if it is something related to my past as a pharmacist. I have never asked anybody why.

When I do dream it is almost always one of two ways. Some are very hot and sexy but I should add that I'm always alone in those dreams. I have been told that these dreams may come from a struggle to find a balance between the genders in my personality. The mystery lover of the night trying to show me the right balance of firm and gentle, bold and caring, yin and yang. It sounds a little deep but it could be true, who am I to say.

The other type I can only describe as an abstract type of dream. Physically I'm not in them but yet I am, or maybe you could say my soul is in them. I tend to style my life and art in shades of black and white yet these dreams are always colorful and graphic. I think of them as my inspirational dreams because they sometimes give me an idea for a painting or a shot I could take even if it has nothing to do with the dream itself.

The rarest form of dream I have is a combination of those two. You could say it's the most enjoyable of the three and that is where this post came from because I had one of those dreams last night. When I woke up I had what I think was an awesome idea which I'll post as an update later tonight. Rare as they are I have always thought that my dreams try to tell me something, it's just that I don’t always know what it is and I don't always listen if I do know.


"falling Down"

4/11 update - I stumbled on this quote by John Steinbeck that seemed to belong with this post. "People who are most afraid of their dreams convince themselves they don't dream at all." No comment.

Observations from the Window 2.25

Have you ever sat in front of your computer with four tabs open in Firefox or Chrome (two emails, facebook, and either news or blog feeds), one or two Gchats going orange, Photoshop open to work on photos, and, in my case, TweetDeck open on a netbook? Lost data slips by as you stare at that one orange Gchat wondering why it went quiet, wondering if you said something wrong. I have. In fact I am as I add Word on my laptop to the list so I can write this. I’m not even going to think about where Tumblr, Plurk, and my cell phone fit into this.

Insanity rules.

Tab, tab, tweet, tab, tweet. The Middle East erupts, the Middle West protests, Gadaffi blames the Easter Bunny, and I stare endlessly at that orange dot. I reread the last few lines of the chat knowing I didn’t say anything wrong but still wondering if I did. Why do I always have to be such a smart ass? Did she take something the wrong way? Should I explain what I meant or just let it go?

Total freaking netsanity.

Streaming YouTube, iTunes, half written unfinished than forgotten comments. Endless bits of information careening in front of my eyes as my brain begins to spin totally out of control.

And than the dot goes grey.

The Pretty Reckless - Just Tonight

Observattions from the Window 2.20

Sometimes I get these massive headaches that feel like a vice is squeezing my head together from ear to ear. I have been told they aren't technically migraines but I have never been told what they in fact are. I don’t know what causes them, nobody seems to have any idea what causes them. A couple years ago I went through a whole array of tests just to see the doctor shrug as if to say karma.

I had one of them yesterday, the first I have had in a long time. Actually I think it was the first I had since I moved to the Village. There is nothing like spending 24 hours in bed, clawing at the pillows, chewing on Treximet, and praying it puts you back to sleep so you can forget the pain. Now the funny thing with Treximet is that one of the possible side effects is a rebound headache. I do not lie, a rebound headache, what the hell is the point?

The best explanation I was ever given was that it is totally stress related. Basically my brain isn't wired right to handle stress so it takes it to a point and than it overheats. My theory is that fluid intake should cool it down but I suppose alcohol isn't the right fluid to be taking in. It seems to work to a point and than it doesn't.

Anyway I had this idea to write down what i was thinking, that is if I was thinking anything other than just kill me now. I must admit that was the most prevalent thought I had. I guess my grand experiment was a failure because other than the kill me now thought it was mostly black without the white. A dark deep depression with no light anywhere, no escape, nowhere to hide. Seems almost like what I call the mood but with added pain. What a piece of work I am.

Karma

Five Finger Death Punch - Bad Company

Observations from the Window 1.24

By all accounts I seem to have survived another attack of the mood. It was a good idea to run home for a couple days because it did seem to clear my head for now. For two days I did nothing but eat good steak, watch sports, and talk with the family about our roads ahead. We also managed to consume a case or so of my dad’s beer in the process but we aren’t telling.

One fun moment was seeing my brother's Penn State diplomas which had just arrived via the USPS. They left them out on the front porch in the melting snow, after four years and a small fortune spent, they left them sit in the fucking snow. Sorry maybe the mood isn’t totally passed yet. Anyway the kid now has more papers than I do as he got a diploma for each of his minors too. So as of this writing he is ahead three pieces of paper to my two, online Academy of Art here I come.

So why the mood? It's been some time since I fell into one and I'm not totally sure why. Over the years I have tried to figure out their cause but I have never had much success and neither has anyone else. I’ve been told part of the reason is that I'm an emotional person but I keep those emotions bottled up so eventually they need a release. I do partly accept that because I can see that release when I paint, almost as if those emotions flow through my fingers and the brushes onto the canvas. Than again maybe I am just insane and nobody has figured that out yet.

It's at times like this that my mountains always worked their primo magic and it's when I now miss them the most. But I have to wonder if it's just one of those things I look back at longingly knowing I can never completely go back. It seems as if the past can taunt you like that, teasing you with its perfection yet never giving it back. With my brother gone the last links in the chain are broken yet I still find myself drawn to those mountains.

So maybe the answer to the unasked question is that I'm not the mountain painter nor am I the city photographer. Maybe the answer is a combination I have yet to find.

Maybe I have to find it ....

Avril Lavigne - What The Hell

Observations from the Window 1.20

I have been quiet here lately but not for lack of trying. Seems I have slipped into one of my moods and the more I tried to write my way out of it the more depressing the read became. Just one of those moods I get in where I'm not happy with anything at all, I just hate everything equally. I might have a reason or I might not; it doesn't seem to matter at times like this. With know obvious cause for the melancholy feeling everything becomes the cause and the mood becomes a demon that feeds on itself. I just feel mentally and emotionally drained, tortured, dejected, gloomy .... emo.

One time my mom gave me a carton of eggs and told me to throw them in the kitchen sink to blow off steam. I don’t remember if it helped but I do remember it being fun as hell so I gave that a try yesterday. Made one hell of a mess for me to clean is what it did. Next up I might try slinging paint at canvas while trying not to hit the walls, or maybe sling paint at the walls themselves. Either way it could get interesting.

At times like this my girls always seem to know what's best for me. Last night one suggested I soak in the tub with tunes and a drink. I won’t pass on what else she suggested but it all seemed to help me unwind and get to sleep. Than today the VQ told me to just stay home and do something to relax, like I know how to do something like that. But some wandering the Village, doing some photos, and another soak in the tub have done wonders for my attitude. Ash also came up with the idea of making a run home to recharge which I might just do. I'm not about to risk taking Foxy out in this crappy weather again but I just might look bitchy enough to get a pair of seats to myself. I just have to remember to skip the hells this trip.

And so life goes on.

Bob Dylan - Not Dark Yet

Disclaimer - I should admit I lied up above because I don't hate everything equally. Even in my mood I hate that jackass Glenn Beck more.

Thirty Days of Truths, Day 30

Tell yourself everything you love about yourself ....

Thirty days and this is all it comes down to? No shattering cosmic event to portend events in my future? This sucks! I love way I use the English language, that's what I love about myself. But seriously, everything I like about myself. Well some I have said before and some I haven't but here it is. Day 30 ....

I love my eyes because sometimes they are so dark they look black. And no I don’t wear colored contacts either so don't ask. They always looked so awesome on Goth Friday. I love being tall, I always have, and I like my body too. That's a good thing because with my metabolism it isn't going to change any time soon, besides I know it well. As much as I have a love/hate relationship with it I honestly do like my hair. I never have had short hair and have never really wanted it short, sorry to disappoint some. I love the way it looks wet and I love the way it looks straight but half the time it is neither, it's just a mess. I have a name for that look but I'll keep it to myself.

I love the way my mind works, the way I think and see the world around me. Actually there was a time I thought I was a bit insane until I was told I have four photopigments instead of the normal three, basically the opposite of color blindness. Who knew? As much as I know it can turn people off fast I love my arrogant personality. I also know it's just a cover but I like the softer side it is covering too. I care about things without really trying to, I just do.

But what I love the most about myself is the fact that I can create, I can show what I see. It's something I never like to talk about but I know I have a talent. I love to be able to see something in my mind and be able to share it. Whether sketching it, painting it, or just shooting it. It really doesn't matter to me, I just like to share. I like to be able to take my world and, however briefly, make it your world too. It's a good thing I can because along the way I have killed so many brain cells that, well, Walmart might have been the only other option.

It sounds a bit vain but I suppose what I love about myself is myself. When I look in the mirror I have few regrets. I'm just perfectly happy how I have turned out so far, except those days when I'm not ....

I’m just an enigma.

So there you have it, thirty ‘truths’ in a little over thirty days. I said I would finish it before Christmas and I do believe I have.
Merry Christmas everybody!

U2 - I Believe In Father Christmas

Thirty Days of Truths, Day 29

Something I hope to change about myself. And why ....

Can I use location on this one? Why? Because Paris seems to be calling me. Damnit I’ll just think of something else. I knew that was too easy an answer.

I don't think it's ever going to be possible but if I could change anything I would tame that slight flaw in my personality that makes me so damn emo sometimes. A friend recently said I have a 'dark, lonerish, superior, arrogant bitch' attitude and I like that. It's a cover I have worked long and hard at over the years and I believe I may have finally perfected it. But still it seems to fail me at times.

The problem is the fact that under that veneer is a soul that can suddenly be torn with emotion. I'll usually mange to keep it safely hidden away and under control only to have it explode out of nowhere. There are times I don’t even know why it happens but still it does. It can last hours or it can last days than it will suddenly fade away as fast as it appeared. My mom once called it 'the mood' and it's a name that has stuck ever since.

Granted I love to paint when I'm in one of those moods. It's as if I can see the colors swirling around my head and can smell even feel the paint as I put on canvas. At moments like that every creative nerve in my body seems so alive I honestly think I could paint what I see with a blindfold on. It has to be the closest thing to an artistic orgasm as I have ever found.

Maybe I won't change that flaw after all. I mean seriously, who am I to turn down an orgasm?

Thirty Days of Truths, Day 28

What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant,
what would you do ....

This probably the only one of the thirty that actually made me laugh. I'm sure it isn't supposed to do that but for my own not so personal reasons it did. Still I suppose I have to answer.

Short answer. Not going to happen.

Longer answer. Short of rape one is about as likely to happen as the other. All I can say is that if either one were to happen I would have to seriously reconsider my ideas on religion.

Me with a child, what a novel idea. Now that would have been one hell of a truth ....

Thirty Days of Truths, Day 10

Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know ....

OMG why would anybody in their right mind answer something like this? Besides anybody that knows anything about me knows I don't have to answer this one because if I need to let you go I already did. Chances are I let you go before I needed to and didn't look back. Just another burnt bridge in my collection.

So I'll take the space to explain my mulligan comment in the last post. I remembered later that a mulligan is a 'do-over' in a friendly round of golf. Now I only need my two hands to count the number of times I have played real golf so I forgot it meant that. I was thinking of a soda drinking game we played in college when using a mulligan meant you could skip your turn.

And while I'm at it a bit of Katie trivia for you. I use the term 'burning bridges' all the time so where did it come from in the first place? Actually it was my dad that used it first in the context I always use it in. My dad is a big Clint Eastwood fan and the theme song of his fav movie "Kelly's Heroes" is called "Burning Bridges." I was talking to my mom about my social skills, or lack of, when my dad blurted out 'like so many burning bridges behind you' and I have used the term ever since. It just seems to fit.

".... All the burning bridges that have fallen after me
All the lonely feelings and the burning memories
Everyone I left behind each time I closed the door
Burning bridges lost forevermore ...."

The Mike Curb Congregation - Burning Bridges

Thirty Days of Truths, Day 1

Something you hate about yourself ….

At first glance this one is so easy it almost makes me laugh and I can answer it in a few short sentences. I can become suddenly emo to an extreme. I might have a reason in my head but I don’t honestly need one. Sometimes darkness just swirls around in my head and it just happens.

See that was totally easy and made all the easier by the fact that I seem to be in one of the moods at the moment. The thing is now that I wrote it I have to sit back and think about what I wrote. And that is going to be the biggest problem doing this whole thing. I'm going to need another doctor until day 30.

Yes I can be emo, I can get into a mood so dark I make Ophelia seem like Cinderella. But I’m also an enigma, even to myself. I don’t want to say I enjoy the mood but sometimes I seem to thrive on it. I did one of my favorite paintings when I was in just such a mood. I hate the way I make people feel when I get this way but I have no control over it at all, the demons just take over. I can be moody, dark, anti-social, and totally withdraw inside myself and at the same moment want attention, need the attention. This means be nice but don't always expect much in return.

So I can be an anti-social attention whore. Just an enigma.

Why the hell did I start this?

Observations from my Bed 9.12

I don’t normally post photos in this blog but I found this one on a tumblr site that just is so totally a look into my mind that I had to share it. From top to bottom I think I have finally found my long lost twin sister. The hair, skin, pants, hands, and yes the ass are all so me, I just wish I had taken the shot. Why the hell didn’t I think of it! Oh and I can’t forget the word, karma ….

Yes karma

Linkin Park - The Catalyst

Observations from the Window 8.15

So today is my birthday, twenty eight years old if I remember correctly. Don’t laugh because I thought I was twenty eight last year too. I am sitting here thinking about where I am, really where I have come from too. I’m at a place so different, both mentally and physically, from anyplace I have been before in my life that I honestly think I need to take a hard look and think about where I want to go from here. But that isn’t for today, isn’t for now.

It has been a long crazy journey to this point and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. Karma. I’m just a crazy girl and I totally don’t see that ever changing either.

I started out in a relatively small town in Pennsylvania and now find myself at the center of the universe, I am so going to pay for that comment. Along the way I earned a masters degree from one of the country’s finest schools, seen more awesome works of art that most people see in a lifetime, and created a body of work of my in both painting and photography. If I am honest I have more good friends now than I have had at any other time in my life and two girls I like to call my best friends. I rely on them both in different ways but love them both dearly in just the same. I have a brother I can’t do without, a sister I admire like nobody else, and a father whose feelings for I can’t put into words.

On the dark side I have been lost in drugs, spent time in rehab, and had a long term relationship end brutally. At times I can be the hardest person to be around, be one introverted, moody, and arrogant bitch. The worst part is sometimes I totally like being that way and that arrogant bitch has had me thrown in jail at least one time that I know of.

Looking forward I have no idea where I am going. I just started a little art business project that I hope goes well. Ash and I will either do well or kill each other in the process. It's way to early to tell which of those is the likely ending but I’m thinking positive. Sometimes I like to think that all roads lead to Paris with a good friend. Time will tell on that one too.

So, reading up, that teeter totter of life is at least leaning towards the light side. After all that I better get to my point. Between all my little online endeavors I have more friends and acquaintances than I care to count. You listen to me rant, bitch, and sometimes cry in writing and in pics and, bless you all, you keep coming back for more. I just want to thank for reading, looking, and pretending I am a relatively sane gurl.

The journey continues.

George Harrison - While My Guitar Gently Weeps

Observations from the Window 6.14

Ever since my ‘lost summer’, and quite possibly long before that, I have had this deep seated fear of failure. It was reinforced a few years later by a failed relationship, OK poisoned relationship. Psychologically I have been told it’s called atychiphobia, which is defined as ‘defined as a persistent, abnormal, and unwarranted fear of failure. Atychiphobes may subconsciously undermine or sabotage their own efforts to prevent having to continue to try, and therefore preventing any potential failure.’ Hmm sounds familiar.

A fear that people won’t like my paintings, my work, my photos, and for that matter they not like me either. I cover it all up with my cocky, some might say arrogant, personality. Now the arrogance has been a part of my personality as long as I can remember, seriously I was prob a cocky baby, it’s the fear that is a more recent addition. Sometimes to the point that it’s almost a fear of the fear. Jesus I wonder if there is a name for that. I know, I’m just totally insane sometimes.

Saturday afternoon something happened that might finally begin to change that. A watershed moment? Somehow I doubt I would go that far. But for the very first time I sold two of my paintings. Seriously some loon gave me cold hard cash for two of my paintings, two that I had painted a few years ago. Neither was one of what I like to call ‘the big three’, one of which is in the right sideboard, those I don’t think I could ever part with.

But anyway I guess I’m not exactly Vinnie van Gogh yet, hell I might be a little crazy but I ain’t dead, but still it’s a start.

So at the moment life is pretty damn good.

tuneage, Audioslave - I Am The Highway