A poem by K. Dabrowski
Be greeted psychoneurotics ( Read more... )

Happy Mother's Day! I wish I was there to cook dinner and help make a pie. Thank you again (and again and again) for being at the other end of the phone, and listening to me babble endlessly about the frustration and stupidity of my assignments. I would never have gone to art school in the first place if you hadn't taught me a bunch of color ( Read more... )

Last night I mentioned my text file of un-words; tonight I got ambitious enough to format and post it. This is partly because I think it may be entertaining to my readers, but mostly so that if anyone knows where the website is that generates this stuff, they can send me a link to it. If I'm remembering correctly, the page spits out a list like ( Read more... )

Today was a day in which it seemed like I was doomed to get very tired while accomplishing practically nothing. Normally I would have art history in the morning, but we don't have class this week, because we're having a special field-trip-meeting on Thursday night at the Frye Art Museum, where each student will talk briefly about one of the ( Read more... )

I have done hardly anything useful today. There lingers the nagging suspicion that I had a bunch of stuff I was supposed to do for school, but instead I played with beads and made muffins ( Read more... )

Sometimes pyrite forms dodecahedron-shaped crystals. They're not perfectly regular; the pentagonal sides have angles that are a little bit off. But they're that too-shiny iron-gold color, and they're quite wonderful. Today, at a huge sprawling gem and bead show, I found some that had been drilled, but otherwise untouched. They are possibly the ( Read more... )

I've been spending money on frivolous self-indulgences again. After all the usual agonizing over "Do I really need this" and "Can I justify the expense?" I finally threw caution to the winds and bought a small filing cabinet ( Read more... )

It's been a bad week, but I think I am getting better. Enough that I'm typing, instead of huddling in a chair and feeling sorry for myself, at any rate.

We looked at this painting today in art history:

( Jupiter and Io )

After the rain stops,
All the air in the city
Is so full of light

I was talking to Aunty Deluvian tonight about The DaVinci Code, because she's just been reading it. We agreed that it was an infuriatingly bad book, and that one of its worst qualities was that you kept on reading it, in spite of wanting to shout at the author for being such a complete nincompoop all the time. Some time ago, when I first read it ( Read more... )