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Inspired by my brother I feel like splurging - like going out and wasting an unholy amount on something that I'll ever never have occasion to wear, or that I could've done just as well with in buying a cheaper version. Maybe going to the hairdressers, or something. Just anything to burn money on... if I had it.
I'm a disappointment to myself and my family. Two years out of highschool, no job, no further education, just a doting family that I shouldn't be so dependent on and hairdressing course that I never completed. It's ugly and non-romantic, everything that I hate. It's made me realize things about myself that I don't like admitting let alone thinking about. I could go on&on&on with a list a LJ page long, but I won't because what would be the point? It'd only serve to make me feel bad when I see it; my greatest fault, I think. I'll happily wallow away in misery yet I'm too lazy to do anything about it.
Rowan suggested that I do as my art teacher tried to bully me to do and send away my scribbles to little publishers, just to do something. All false modesty aside, I don't feel ready for that. I like drawing, I love it in fact. I love art. My wardrobe is a cave of canvas paintings that I've done, some not even finished. I swear, there is not a piece of paper in this house that is safe from me. I'll scribble on the envelope of the telephone bill as I'm waiting for lunch; write notes to myself on the kitchen whiteboard, words or little phrases that can make my mundane day seem worth writing about later on. Sketch a brief, messy idea of a layout I'd like to do in my cashier. Everything I see or feel, everything that anyone around me could possibly do... it's all fair game. It'll be written about, drawn, anything that let's me articulate my life. I love art, both pictures and words and if I did become an illustrator or a writer I would die with happiness, even before I actually get the job done. But I don't see how me&my scribbles are fit for the rest of world just yet. I'd like to get a better grasp on the human anatomy, to draw animals. I'd like to learn how to not be so controlling and I'd love to learn how to maximize my use of colour.
I wonder if it's just another form of procrastination by saying that I want to wait until I've bettered myself? I would though. I'd like to learn self-portrait. I can never draw myself. The girls that end up on paper are either idealized to something beyond me or unrecognizable. Maybe that's selfish, but I've always been able to see other people in my drawings, and I'd like the same for me.
If I could waste the money, right now, I would go to the tiny art boutique in town and buy a crazily expensive set of paints. Or pastels. Or watercolour pencils. Pretty brushes, something to replace the old, cheap things I've been using ever since Amy and I used to steal art supplies from the school storeroom. Or maybe I'd buy myself Photoshop - I'm learning to love beautiful graphics and I'd love to have a go at it.
OoOOoOoOOooooh... I wish I could stop breathing, sometimes. It just seems like I'm so full of conflicting thoughts that they all pull my emotions different ways, and I'm left not knowing how to feel.