In a very low phase. I feel like a failure in life, always hurting, frequently depressed, pulled in a hundred directions and letting down everyone I care about. I'm going to lose my house to foreclosure -- I accepted that months ago and am more or less at peace with it -- but now I can't even come up with the rent for the apartment we've been ( Read more... )

1. Spray-paint your canvas flat black ( Read more... )

This may be the single stupidest thing I've ever seen anyone say about transsexuality/transgenderism. Not surprisingly, I guess, it's from a "men's rights" forum, one of the many Internet phenomena I find intermittently, horrifyingly fascinating.

I do not subscribe to "gender theory." In fact, I find the idea that all sexual traits, e.g. masculine ( Read more... )

"Pot will never replace pharmaceuticals. It has no medical use. It causes anxiety and it can't get rid of pain. I don't smoke the crap, but I still think it should be legalized, because potheads are gonna smoke it and why waste resources prosecuting them ( Read more... )

( Close To The Borderline )

Last night I finished a painting I like a lot. It's called "Long After Midnight" (after the Ray Bradbury story, from which it also incorporates some text) and I'll be putting it up soon. Tonight I'm not having such a good night. Family bullshit and strife. I've had a Klonopin and smoked hash and now I'm drinking a beer (Blue Moon Harvest Pumpkin ( Read more... )

"What is THAT??? A stretched penis and testicles? Oooh, that's ugly!"

"That's the painting I just sold."

"Are you serious? You're not serious, are you? Isn't that against the law?"

Shit my mom says about my paintings, so far:

"Is that a bunch of eyeballs?"

"Where's her head?"

"I'd like it better without that horse."

"What the hell is that supposed to be?"

She was much kinder about my artwork when I was five, but the work was probably better then.

Today was a day of hellish little inconveniences including bounced checks, cut-off phones, unstocked stores, distraught mothers, cars stuck in vast mud puddles, alarmist articles on testosterone "frenzy" (a.k.a. treatment), and general ire. Fortunately, it all recedes into the distance since large quantities of new art supplies were procured and I ( Read more... )

I've been letting myself get all antisocial again because, as I ranted to Grey earlier, "why go out because it's just going to be a bunch of people misgendering me all over the place even if I wear the horrible uncomfortable binder and I don't even know what fucking restroom to use anymore." This is especially not-good because Southern Decadence is ( Read more... )