Arty-Farty
It's definitely been Art Day. Didn't even schedule it to be so. Since I woke up at the crack of noon, I have:
- worked on a writing project for a few hours - very happy with today's results.
- Tossed around some design ideas in Photoshop for a web site for a friend who has suckered me into his current project.
- Got more than half of the 50-run David Bowie silkscreen paintings printed up today. Painstaking, time-taking procedure. Very messy. Every available flat non-cat-walky area in the house is strewn with paintings of David Bowie. I wish I had a camera. It's beautiful and surreal. A sea of Bowie! And I like wearing my baggy, fucked up painting jeans and splotched-over Brigitte Bardot shirt which I long ago delegated to this process. It makes me sexy in a devil-may-care/Jennifer Beals'y kinda way. Woo!
- Blissed out on my newly tuned piano playing all the Chopin I know - it's a Chopinny day - and thinking, hey, I'm good! It was the piano that sounded like crap all this time!
- Turned down a corporate job. This is, in many ways, the best part of the day as it made me realize where I am in this weird little life I seem to have constructed for myself. Over two years ago, I filed a résumé with a tech firm in the CBD, looking for design/writing/code-tweaking work. Today (over two years later???) one of their automatons rang me offering me an SQL database job. I had a brief glimpse of grey carpeting, a lonely stapler on the desk in a tiny cubicle, women in beige nylons, the fussy click-clack of middle-management shoes on the hallway linoleum, and weak coffee. Then I looked around the house at all the art, turned up the Chopin Nocturnes I was listening to while painting, and called da bitch back, voice like treacle, saying, "Sorry honey. Not available." It's a good day.
Going out to Punk Rock Karaoke in a couple of hours. The perfect ending to this day would be to find someone to take home and do unspeakable things to until a couple hours after dawn.
Any volunteers? I have liquor and chocolate!