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[11 Jan 2008|03:17pm] |
It is January and it is thundering outside and I am writing an artist statement for a fellowship (deadline: Monday). My thesis project is entitled Proposal for a More Secure, More Beautiful World (deadline: May-ish). The snow is slowly melting away which means that maybe the llamas and billy goats next door to my little house will come outside to graze and I can yet again shout at them in French as I pass by in my car.
Life is good, life is slow-ish. The woodstain fumes (color: Red Mahongany mixed with a bit of Jacobean) in my studio are making me wonder if I shouldn't just wear my respirator all the time.
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[18 Oct 2007|12:36pm] |
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even now, approaching noon, the fog is so thick that we can't see the mountains in the backyard and the llamas and billygoats that live on the farm next door are no-where to be found.
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[11 Feb 2007|05:28pm] |
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As if Kylie: The Exhibition wasn't strange enough, fashion week started today so yesterday the exhibit was filled with models and little men in funny glasses.
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[05 Feb 2007|08:28pm] |
the god of england, who may also be the god of overcast and humidity must have a thing against americans partying in his/her country and peeing in his/her allies because i've been smitten by the
black plague.
today i the cracks in my bones have dissapeared and i can keep my eyes open for more than twenty minutes. tomorrow i will take pictures and bang out a paper about anya gallaccio.
don't i know it don't i know it.
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| Invented american slang scores 12 points in scrable. |
[16 Jan 2007|08:39pm] |
The name of the game is sitting in a pub for five hours. Its having no wallet but a travel card valid for a week and a stolen bike bought for 35 quid. Its being dizzy in Trafalgar square and drunk in the north, south, northeast and southwest. Its cardigans and internships, Italian Women, Dutch Girls and missing my girlfriend. Hasselblaads (yes we get them if we ask) and herbs pronounced with the h.
Damien Hurst's collection is boring and cartography is the same as photography. Libraries to wander.
Also waking up at dawn and being in central by 9.
I send loads of postcards, more by the day.
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[01 Nov 2006|02:15am] |
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twenty one!
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[30 May 2006|05:16pm] |
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mood |
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people say 'its the humidity |
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music |
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not the heat' but what keeps melting my choclate? |
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every day i come home from work with grease caked under my fingernails.
it's kind of like coming back from the darkroom or the sculpture studio
except that grease isn't a carcinogen.
this summer has started off terribly but i saw jacob cunningham today for the first time in a year so i dare say that things are looking up.
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| where the hell is law and order |
[16 Apr 2006|10:35pm] |
(best weekend ever).
thank you keg hunt. i am still drunk and played spin the bottle for like two hours in 79.
kathryn long was here but now is gone. i had an anxiety attack while pouring the keg and my car is somewhere on its way to new york.
its spring outside and i've been wearing shorts.
who knows.
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[12 Apr 2006|08:20pm] |
The past two nights, while spotwelding, I've spaced briefly while staring at the little bright spot where the metal meets the electricity and hallucinated that said little white dot has sparked off and burned my face.
sometimes i drop the metal and get weird looks when it clangs clangs clangs on the floor.
i don't think i'm meant for metal fabrication or maybe i need to stop taking ambien to fall asleep.
fin.
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[06 Oct 2005|02:20am] |
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mood |
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anticipatory. |
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music |
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adagio for strings |
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is passing div I a major enough thing that i can/should post about it in my livejournal?
these questions and many more have plagued me lately. plagued, thats right.
like figurative sculpture and
realism.
all my friends get to have sex during the day, whereas i must wait until the night
or sometimes the morning.
tomorrow i'm going home to replace my stolen track bike and the weekend after that
to new york for hasted hunts opening opening opening.
if you were to take all the words in this post and rearrange them you probably wouldn't understand it.
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[25 Jan 2005|11:25am] |
Every day i wake up and my stomach hurts.
Last night i got really drunk off of 40s and whispered in lucas' ear without realizing how sexual it must have seemed to other people (really we were just talking about boys and exes).
Being happy and being stable and smiling and making friends and looking at people in the eye is fun and easy and my mom would be proud (except for the whole alchohol thing)
but
i have a pit in my stomach and something tells me i won't like today. at all.
but maybe i will. maybe the fact that tribe just came on itunes is a good sign.
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[17 Jan 2005|03:23pm] |
somehow i've managed to not only have a panic attack during jan term (when i have no work) but have it on a day when there are no classes.
this only perpetuates the feelings of failure.
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[12 Jan 2005|03:19pm] |
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mood |
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sleepsleepy |
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music |
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i'm making pretentious droney music. |
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I'm secretly sore from climbing every day. Not that i'm trying to keep it a secret but my body
does. until the second i reach for something or i put my hands on the climbing wall.
i haven't had callouses or sore muscles [or frequent hangovers] in a long time.
i like that my room is always so hot because when i nap before class i have to open my window and can hear people crunching around on the snow or cleaning off their cars.
i'm supposed to be in class. or i am in class. but i'm supposed to be learning
rather elyse will look over my shoulder when i play with max/msp and we'll talk about snow boots and being nerds. i smoke cigarettes with a kid named dash.
i kind of feel like keeping a list of all the people who have spent more than 2 hours in my room. today there must have been a million different types of cigarettes in my various ashtrays.
well in my one ashtray and one tea-cup.
i have oil paint all over my fingers
and feel slightly self depracating.
glass?glass.
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