hey UO, this is what I do.

 

home for the summer.

Everything about being home for this long is weird. It's only been about a week and I can already say this summer is just going to be an odd one. It's great seeing some old friends but when it comes down to the nitty-gritty, the only people that I want to be with live like a minimum of 4 hours away. Max about 9.

Well as any college kid home for the summer knows: what is the first thing your mom nags you to do? GET A JOB. So as of right now, I'm on the hunt. My life has dwindled down from parties and friends always in the next room to laying in my quiet ass bedroom alone (listening to the goldfish that managed to stay alive while I was gone) in search for jobs on craigslist. Craigslist? Yah, that desperate- emailing complete strangers to tell them I am, in fact, qualified to design their next tattoo.

And this is the point where I'm going to plug myself to all of my imaginary readers. I'm a painter, I paint portraits. If you want one, please dear Jesus let me know. I mean, it'll cost money. But see it as getting a free painting and donating to a poor art student fund. If that aids in some decision making at all. I'll post some photos here of some portraits I've done in the past. The fact that I've now been a painting major for a solid year only means I've gotten better. You'll have to take my word for it- it's all about trust. But I'm better.

 

These are only a couple portraits out of my growing collection. But my pocketbook is begging for some more commissions. I'll attempt to write again if anything interesting ever decides to happen this summer, haha.

I don't write poetry much anymore

has is not been a hundred
thousand years
since I saw you last

it felt so long
it went so fast

to think a year ago
to the day
you were swearing to always stay

but it seems so long
since I saw you last
that I could almost swear
a hundred thousand
years had passed

the whole wide world can't shake me like you do

I am madly in love with the spring time. It's almost as good as fall. The only thing it has on fall though is that it's the prelude to summer. Glorious, glorious summertime. Though, the warm is making me miss midtown Memphis. Every time I step out into the sunshine it's an instant flashback to being a small child laying on warm kitchen tiles soaking up the rays pouring in from our glass back door. That was my favorite spot ever. There or actually out in the sun. This is a picture of me enjoying the weather with my cat, Homer. I used to be able to start crying just by hearing his name; so it's safe to say The Simpsons was a danger zone for me.
But this post today isn't about my long lost feline. This is about how I don't believe in love anymore. That sounds really harsh. But I can't figure out how else to really word it. I'd like to think it's out there but I can't find a perfect example anywhere. I've been in "love" before (or whatever) but it was all a big lie. That I won't go into. But the same day I realized this I received a call from my mother and she told me about how my Grandma couldn't come to a family function because my Grandfather was going to be there. This is the point when I lost it. My mom was shocked because this is a pretty normal occurrence in our family full of divorce. But she also didn't realize this is when I decided that love doesn't really exist. Obligation and attraction exist. Occasionally. And occasionally even those run out. So my new outlook is that love can't exist between people but it can with God and dogs. God honestly loves you and your dog honestly loves you. I'm now in the process of praying my ass off to be completely wrong about the rest. And that 265 miles away the sunshine is still pouring through that glass door onto green kitchen tiles.

Febuary? Februrary? February.

I actually had to google how to spell FEBRUARY. And honestly, if you ask me again in 10 minutes to spell it I won't be able to.  There hasn't been too much of Feb '11 yet, but so far it's a good sign of the rest of '11. I haven't had anything too interesting to blog about recently, soo I haven't. Right now my life is my art classes. And part of me hates it, but most of me secretly loves it. I am beyond in love with my color design class. I don't even mind it being at 8am. I just ingest an unhealthy amount of coffee and hang onto every word my professor says. This is actually why I'm writing today. And partly because I'm procrastinating on laundry. But mostly because today I realized how happy I am with what I've chosen to do. Mr. Meade, my professor for that class, was discussing how genuine color is. He was talking about how painting does something that nothing else can do, no other form of art, nothing. Then he directed his lecture towards the graphic design/ advertising majors. He said, "One day when you're working someone is going to ask you to come up with a way to get more teenagers to smoke camel cigarettes. And you're going to have to do it. Because that's what advertising is; it's making someone think to do something that they normally wouldn't. It's deceitful." I don't think he was trying to pick on the graphics kids, but I do think he said something that he didn't verbalize. What I got out of that is that painting is just pure, good, old fashioned art. You see what you see in a painting and you feel what you feel. There's a Jackson Pollock quote that I'm in love with, "Every good painter paints what he is." (What does that say about Pollock?? haha)
But that's what painting IS! Haha, sorry it's just so exciting to me. I'm just ecstatic to be a part of the kind of art that shows the painter's soul. And sometimes the viewer's too. Happy February everyone. I hope 2011 is the one.