Did you know I was an artist? Did you know that I did more than draw crappy comics? Did you know that I used to dream of being an artist as a profession, that until my senior year of high school I had every intention of going to art school? That I took every art class available to me and did independent study periods? That I have used media from clay to pencil to paint aside from digital?
Well, don't feel bad if you didn't know. I haven't in kind of a long time. I mean, I've tried, but my muse was all doped up on a street corner shivering or crouching in a cave, miles away from any sentient being. My muse dropped by. My muse isn't a person or anything, it is just a sense that I can create something beautiful.
After watching White Oleander and HATING IT after having read the novel for the second time, I decide that I'd paint. I popped Lola Rennt into the VCR (yeah, that's right!) for unobtrusive background noise and took a 3ft by 3ft piece of wood and gessoed the hell out of it. I took my acrylics I had bought some months ago and never used and I started to paint. I tried painting a few different things before I, exasperated, thought to myself (in German, for some reason?) "Wer bin ich aber mich?" or 'Who am I but me?" and I immediately laid the groundwork for the painting I am so happy to have produced. It's me. It's my style. It's going to be the first of many, I hope. I am thinking of doing a whole series and hoping to get a First Friday Gallery Walk spot someday. I think it's good enough. Plus, I know people.
I went and saw the Watchmen. Now, I just watched White Oleander and was horribly upset with some of the ommissions and changes. But the Watchmen, the ommissions and minor changes did not take away from the overall message or the story telling. Some of the ommissions and therefore the changes were absolutely necessary for the film medium. All this being said, I was really happy with it and might even consider seeing it for a second time in theater, something I NEVER do.
I've been productive lately. It's nice. Sometimes I feel no motivation to get up and get moving and get my life in order. I think it was a matter of channeling the negative energy and depression into something positive - painting - so that I could get out of that funk and be a functioning person again. Thank goodness. Now I just need to get more big pieces of wood to paint. I even took the suggestion of that mean fortune cookie and went to the gym.
So, here's the one aspect of my life that still depresses me: my love life. I bared my soul a little talking about how cynical I am about love, but I don't want to be that way. I've seen a lot in my life that would push me to this attitude, but I have seen a lot that would make me sad and depressed and cynical about a lot of other stuff, yet I remain optimistic. I think that I need to make peace with Mr. HL - that I need to turn our "smile and wave" relationship into a real platonic friendship - or at the very least, I need to believe that he respects me as a person and doesn't think of me as just some chick he fooled around with a couple times. I think I need to call Mr. CN and tell him that I owe him a date, which I do, and that if he'll be patient I'll make it a good one. I need to stop dreaming about the douchebags who strike my fancy. I need to stop falling for people who leave, people who don't care, people who don't fulfill my needs, people who don't treat me with respect, people who use, people who abuse, people who think all I deserve is a smile and a wave when all is said and done.
Speaking of people who leave. There is a particular person who is in town this weekend. I am waiting with bated breath. I shouldn't. I should just pretend he isn't here at all since he's only here for a weekend, just like last time, and before that it was only a summer. I should concentrate on me, my art, and coming up with some sweet prizes for the moustache competition tomorrow. But I'm thinking of him. Man, I'm a hypocrite!