[DESTROY!]
It felt nice to sleep in this morning, even though Gonzo kept opening and shutting the bedroom door to get my attention. He can actually do that without thumbs. He just pushes it open with his nose, and then lays down on his side and, with his little hands, pushes it almost closed. Then he opens it back up. Repeat. It makes a fairly annoying sound that I'm sure was directed at me, because it turns out that the water bottle was empty, so I guess he was just thirsty.
I've been sort of half-watching the Rose Bowl parade today. My mom has instilled in me this feeling of obligation to watch holiday parades. I mean, people go to a lot of trouble for those things. She always makes a big deal out of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade and wonders why Casey and Patrick and the other young 'uns of the family don't find it riveting. So today, in her honor, I'm keeping the parade on the TV despite Al Roker's idiotic comments that come like clockwork.
Phil gets off at 2, so we will probably go get a late lunch and then venture out into the world to spend our money and collect trinkets for the home. Like birds. The weather is nice and we're both in relatively good moods. No hangovers. I have a Hobby Lobby gift card to cash in, and I've got my eye on some new brushes. I lost my original synthetic brushes I got for art class a few years back, and I'm not sure that my new pig bristle brushes are really what I need for the type of painting I do (i.e. crappy). I'm really encouraged by Kristin and Jimmy's successful painting adventures of late. Their stencils are a really original idea that they can carry consistently from project to project and medium to medium. I would give anything to get out of my cartoony-face-kiddie-painting rut and get into the stride of making stylistic, honest painted statements that mean something to me and are pleasing to look at. I want to read up on color and media and learn how to mix pigments for optimum effect across media. I'm slowly building a collection of utensils: pallette, brushes, tubes of color, pallete knives, easel. I don't know if these acquisitions help me learn or intimidate me into fearing my own inadequacy as an artist. It's so frustrating to feel so charged with creativity and not be able to perfect a satisfactory outlet. I've always wanted to paint or draw, but I feel like I'm stuck in an adolescent phase of creativity. I want to do so much: there's the career thing that takes up most of my energy (or would, theoretically, if I could get it off the ground), and then there's this need of mine to write (a novel, short stories, poems, whatever), and then the doodler in me wants to break free and be more than a casual doodler. I want to get to a point where I'm not just surrounding myself with others' creations, but making meaningful ones of my own. But the whole time, I've got this nagging feeling that doing so is selfish and narcissistic. There are two reasons: 1) It's like who am I to try and create beauty when there's already more in existence than I could ever comprehend? 2) I feel guilty for being concerned with art and beauty when half the world is in despair.
They're playing The Darkness's "Black Shuck" on TV. The football game will start soon. Now after all that talk about creativity, I think I'll play a little Ratchet and Clank.
It felt nice to sleep in this morning, even though Gonzo kept opening and shutting the bedroom door to get my attention. He can actually do that without thumbs. He just pushes it open with his nose, and then lays down on his side and, with his little hands, pushes it almost closed. Then he opens it back up. Repeat. It makes a fairly annoying sound that I'm sure was directed at me, because it turns out that the water bottle was empty, so I guess he was just thirsty.
I've been sort of half-watching the Rose Bowl parade today. My mom has instilled in me this feeling of obligation to watch holiday parades. I mean, people go to a lot of trouble for those things. She always makes a big deal out of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade and wonders why Casey and Patrick and the other young 'uns of the family don't find it riveting. So today, in her honor, I'm keeping the parade on the TV despite Al Roker's idiotic comments that come like clockwork.
Phil gets off at 2, so we will probably go get a late lunch and then venture out into the world to spend our money and collect trinkets for the home. Like birds. The weather is nice and we're both in relatively good moods. No hangovers. I have a Hobby Lobby gift card to cash in, and I've got my eye on some new brushes. I lost my original synthetic brushes I got for art class a few years back, and I'm not sure that my new pig bristle brushes are really what I need for the type of painting I do (i.e. crappy). I'm really encouraged by Kristin and Jimmy's successful painting adventures of late. Their stencils are a really original idea that they can carry consistently from project to project and medium to medium. I would give anything to get out of my cartoony-face-kiddie-painting rut and get into the stride of making stylistic, honest painted statements that mean something to me and are pleasing to look at. I want to read up on color and media and learn how to mix pigments for optimum effect across media. I'm slowly building a collection of utensils: pallette, brushes, tubes of color, pallete knives, easel. I don't know if these acquisitions help me learn or intimidate me into fearing my own inadequacy as an artist. It's so frustrating to feel so charged with creativity and not be able to perfect a satisfactory outlet. I've always wanted to paint or draw, but I feel like I'm stuck in an adolescent phase of creativity. I want to do so much: there's the career thing that takes up most of my energy (or would, theoretically, if I could get it off the ground), and then there's this need of mine to write (a novel, short stories, poems, whatever), and then the doodler in me wants to break free and be more than a casual doodler. I want to get to a point where I'm not just surrounding myself with others' creations, but making meaningful ones of my own. But the whole time, I've got this nagging feeling that doing so is selfish and narcissistic. There are two reasons: 1) It's like who am I to try and create beauty when there's already more in existence than I could ever comprehend? 2) I feel guilty for being concerned with art and beauty when half the world is in despair.
They're playing The Darkness's "Black Shuck" on TV. The football game will start soon. Now after all that talk about creativity, I think I'll play a little Ratchet and Clank.
posted by theogeo | 1/01/2005 11:30:00 AM
2 Comments:
Because I am a lister-
1) You should read 'Eats, Shoots & Leaves.' And I have a punctuation query for you, to wit:
What does style say about using a semicolon in a serial list? Some people say to use it in a list only if the list has punctuation within it already (for example- The reporters asked the following questions: "Who?"; "What?"; and "Where?".) but others say it is acceptable in any list where a comma would mislead the reader of the writer's intentions. I use it in the second instance all the time, mostly because I don't use the Oxford comma (the comma before "and" or "but" that everyone in America uses in a serial list. Journalists excepted, of course). Thoughts?
2) Did you know the Biblical earthquake and ensuing tsunami changed the earth's rotation and the angle of the axis?
-J
I finished "Eats, Shoots & Leaves" right before xmas, and thought it was a really good read. I think I prefer the second usage of semicolons in a list, too. I really love using semicolons and don't see why people can't seem to get the hang of them. Hrm. You're in a completely different culture that utilizes the same language as here. Do you see egregious punctuation errors everywhere you go, too?
Also, I had heard that about the earth's rotation and axis. That means that climate and seasons will inevitably change, right? Talk about some seriously scary shit. But it could also be a completely natural way for the earth to evolve. Or something.
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