hello, my name is jean
your tinted glasses
vivitar, kodak ektachrome 100 (cross)
i can barely keep from dozing as i sit now, at my computer as i have done so all day at work, albeit in a far more comfortable setting than the office cubicle. at the office, i sit in an uncomfortable silence that makes me want to fidget so badly. and to think i used to complain about my house's lack of peace. at the office, i cannot sing or hum, because doing that would disturb the peace. i cannot sigh too loudly either, because that leaves a bad impression.
the past few days have been arguably more trying than lounging at home (which, by the way, takes great skill and effort to master), and i come home finally understanding that the lethargy my mother faces whenever she comes back from work. i used to wonder why she would just plonk herself on the sofa and be content to slump there unmoving for at least an hour everytime she comes back from work. now i know and fully empathise. my mom is a great woman to do this uncomplainingly for the past ten thousand years, and to come back to four unappreciative whiny brats.
but i am learning (or know that i will learn) many things. i feel as if i am the verge of a breakthrough. right now, of course, the process is painful as hell complete with bloody fire and brimstones. i am kicking and thrashing and trying so fucking hard to negotiate with photoshop and trade insults with indesign and plead - goddamn plead - with illustrator. but i know that when this interim of perpetual frustration is over i shall be tonnes better off than when i started. i'd be able to actually begin trying do what dave mckean, shaun tan, and all the other brilliant, awesome illustrators out there do. i can feel this in my bones, under my skin, at the back of my head.. it's all rather exciting, i must say, if i could only skip the painpainpainpain.
interning has given me a lot to think about, and i figure i'd better start writing about my thoughts before i forget them (and also, forget how to write) entirely. i suppose a day of operation in images does leave one wanting for words. oh dear god, how am i to write my personal statement now?