paint
I'm painting right now. Not anything special, just making a few ATC's for some swaps on nervousness. Hopefully this will keep them off my back. I love this feeling... paint on my hands, anticipating the yelling my mother will do when she finds red, blues, and yellows smeared on my sheets. I wish I could do this for a living. I really do.
I've started journaling. Well, art journaling. I used to call it altered booking, but after reading "Spilling Open" (Go. read it now.) I realize mine are not altered books. I hate that term. It makes me feel 40 and just a little too hip for scrapbooking. No thank you. I want feeling and words in my art. Not crappy vintage images and stupid over used words like "hope" and "dream". How drab.
I just finished Prozac Nation. Fucking awesome, but whiny. Sometimes you wish she would shut up or kill herself. Now I'm reading White Oleander. Which actually caused me to throw a fit. I was moody and I wanted to watch the movie because I can relate to it in a messed up way.. my relationship with my mother reminds me of the relationship between Astrid and Ingrid; except my mother isn't a murderess poet and I can't draw. hmm.. Anyway.. I wanted to watch the movie and it was gone. I was convinced that my step brother pawned it for drug money and I proceeded to scream and yell about how much I hated him. I was inches away from throwing myself on the ground and pounding my fists. I finally calmed down after I was promised dinner out. I am so spoiled, if I weren't an only child I think I'd be dead.
night night.
-ash
I've started journaling. Well, art journaling. I used to call it altered booking, but after reading "Spilling Open" (Go. read it now.) I realize mine are not altered books. I hate that term. It makes me feel 40 and just a little too hip for scrapbooking. No thank you. I want feeling and words in my art. Not crappy vintage images and stupid over used words like "hope" and "dream". How drab.
I just finished Prozac Nation. Fucking awesome, but whiny. Sometimes you wish she would shut up or kill herself. Now I'm reading White Oleander. Which actually caused me to throw a fit. I was moody and I wanted to watch the movie because I can relate to it in a messed up way.. my relationship with my mother reminds me of the relationship between Astrid and Ingrid; except my mother isn't a murderess poet and I can't draw. hmm.. Anyway.. I wanted to watch the movie and it was gone. I was convinced that my step brother pawned it for drug money and I proceeded to scream and yell about how much I hated him. I was inches away from throwing myself on the ground and pounding my fists. I finally calmed down after I was promised dinner out. I am so spoiled, if I weren't an only child I think I'd be dead.
night night.
-ash