(no subject)
The wind is blowing so hard outside I have trouble seeing the bushes in the yard. Unlike most of you, I have almost no snow; when the wind stops, grass peaks through white and the pavement is clean. All the trees are waving their bare, twisty arms as if saying "JESUSFUCK I AM COLD CUT IT OUT PLEASE. RESPECTFULLY, WENDALL OAK JR."
I am feeling artistic to the tips of my fingers, but I haven't drawn anything. I think I'm being terribly irrational. I have this thing where I look at my old art, and it comes in cycles. First, I look at something very old and think "I was so good then. I was only 16/19/21. Am I still that good? I feel like I'm worse". Eventually, I'll make something anyway and then it will become the old thing that looks really good, and the original becomes a fond memory. I just need to get to the moving on and making more part. I want to do something in sepia and brown, but I don't have the technology or the materials required.
My life is banal right now.
I am feeling artistic to the tips of my fingers, but I haven't drawn anything. I think I'm being terribly irrational. I have this thing where I look at my old art, and it comes in cycles. First, I look at something very old and think "I was so good then. I was only 16/19/21. Am I still that good? I feel like I'm worse". Eventually, I'll make something anyway and then it will become the old thing that looks really good, and the original becomes a fond memory. I just need to get to the moving on and making more part. I want to do something in sepia and brown, but I don't have the technology or the materials required.
My life is banal right now.