I’m really getting tired of having critiques on work I don’t really care for. I told my professor that I think my in-class figure paintings were bad because I’m struggling to forget everything I’ve learned. They weren’t successful paintings because I haven’t let go of every dumb shit I’ve been brainwashed to force into my work, only some. After a much needed discussion about art, style and the making vs the sharing of work.. He brings me a drawing I had on the floor and told me that it was a “good drawing.” He said “students these days have a bad problem appreciating art that ‘is what it is’ - its a good drawing of the situation in front of you- you guys need to stop looking for overstimulation.” I told him “Well.. i just look to see how well someone recreates a vision or an image they see in their mind into something that someone else can see.. I think this is a bad drawing, I think you just find interest in my lack of ability to be character or something.” He looked at me for like 6 seconds, and i got bugged out thinking oh shit did i say something i shouldnt have said? He responded.. “That’s exactly what some of the most influential artists have said. You get the point of this then.”
Which point? What a jedi mind trick of a conversation that was. Damn.
compliments my outfit. Interrupts a conversation to tell me so. Asks if I happen to smoke. I said I do. Shows me out to the back for a smoke. I looked in my purse and it was not there. That’s strange. It’s never missing. I apologized.
Gold. “Who did your toes?” Huh, I was confused. “I notice details.” There was no detail in my eyes rolling. I hate that type of language from strangers. I got up to excuse myself to the bathroom to which I heard, “I know you just by seeing your gold heels.”
I wear a ring on my left hand. My grandmothers. People seem to wonder if I’m married. I got asked if I knew why wedding rings are worn on that specific finger. How the fuck would I know.
A long vein runs from that finger straight to the heart. I got pinched above the ring and flicked across the chest and the stranger told me not to forget it.
Some of the best dates we ever went on were when I had no idea where you were taking me.
Intolerable mazes are in my mind.
In search of what is lasting,
What’s left of me is what has been left to be mine.
here we go again.
if you’re good to go
go for it.
come and go.
what’s going on?
go with it.
to go get it.
to go the distance.
i gotta go.
Drizzling water in the air
Soup for one on the stove
A blanket over my sweater
I’d like to sleep ‘til June.