Woo

A thousand profile views. Do I get some kind of award?

Meh.


So I finished this painting yesterday. It began as a deposit for a blue color I had concocted. Then I began experimenting with different brush sizes, shapes, and textures in greens, yellows, and whites. I wasn’t really thinking much of anything other than getting the strokes mostly vertical. I literally tapped the brush on the surface of the canvas while I held it up, playing it like a drum. At one point, I heard one of my neighbors blasting ‘Clocks’ by Coldpay and I started playing in that 8/8 rhythm [1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2]. Once I felt like I had enough marks, I put it down for a bit. Then I found the word “dinner” from a newspaper cut-out I had found on the steps at work one day. I attached it to a splotch of wet paint, then decided to turn it into a fish, and create a hook, because at this point the more that I looked at the piece the less it looked like random strokes and the more it looked like the marshland near where I live. Funny how that can happen sometimes.

Faux Art Stuffs

Per request, here is one doodle:

Here is the painting 'Mind Reader' which two people told me yesterday that they saw and really wanted to read. Go figure.

Here is stage one of another painting. I have absolutely no clue where it's going, and I'm scared out of my mind I will totally screw it up.

Last Post Before Bed...

I just drew this while listening to a recording of myself singing the same song over and over on loop. It was kind of an out of body experience. I think I might sing myself to sleep now... or, err, listen to myself singing until I fall asleep.

Oh. And I saw The Science of Sleep today. It made me cry for an hour and a half. To quote August Rush, "I counted."

Happy Birthday Mike of the Future!

I made a drawing.
It's just a little bit weird.
I think it's the best one I've made in a long time.

Boom

The Creationist
Songwriters: Chambers, Guy; Koiv, Kerli;

This is an old and funny poem
I accidentally overheard
It keeps the little children playing
And bigger children spread the word
My memory is bad
So I always tend to forget how it goes but

Life is my creation, is my best friend
Imagination is my defense
And I'll keep walking when skies are gray
Whatever happens was meant that way

You're no better or no worse than the others
We are all the same
And life is just a moment
You might as well enjoy this day
It's time to start believing
Everything you want is on it's way and

Life is my creation, is my best friend
Imagination is my defense
And I'll keep walking when skies are gray
Whatever happens was meant that way

We'll be growing, into knowing
While we're flowing
Keep on going

Life is my creation, is my best friend
Imagination is my defense
And I'll keep walking when skies are gray
Whatever happens was meant that way
I'm a creationist, oh, I'm a creationist

This is an old and funny poem
I accidentally overheard.

Oops. I did some doodles. Haha. And this is one doodle that can't be undid, homeskillet. I can't believe I just quoted Juno. Something is obviously wrong with me.

I like the painting, too. I think I might give it to my piano student after she graduates and moves away. I dunno. It just kinda popped into my head today while I was teaching her.

*Sigh* I still need to decide what I'm going to do this summer. I've put off praying about it, but pretty soon meetings will start up about the next mission trip to the Philippines. And I told my grandma that I'd call her this month about going to visit them for the first time in forever. The month is almost over... and I still don't know what I want to do. Or what I should do. Part of me feels like I have to go to the Philippines because I promised people I would come back in the summer. But in my heart, I'm not sure I want to go. I mean, if I'm going just to make people happy and not because that's where God wants me to go... then it kind of defeats the purpose. And I've still got to find time to get my taxes filed; I had to pay a lot of money last year. I'm not sure I'd be able to afford a big trip. But I really feel like I need to leave the country at least for a little while, again. I mean, I might as well, I have my passport and all.

Maybe I just need to chew on it.

For Mike of the Future

Here is yet another one of my famous cards.

And this comic strip is amazing, in a sad, sad kind of way:

Dear Diary,

He called me and we hung out.

When we were at Subways, one of the workers went out on his smoke break to play his ukulele.

Then we went to a cemetery. We are so...

Dear Diary,

Today I did something rather odd. I noticed that one of my neighbors was throwing away a bunch of perfectly good cds, so I nabbed them and added them to my collection. Who would throw away Mancini and Midler??? Ugh.

Dear Diary,

I am feeling better.

Dear Diary,

I've been practicing like a madwoman. It feels good. Really good.

Dear Diary,

Today I made a Christmas card for Mike Bromage. It looks like this:

Dear Diary,

Today I made Christmas cards for my neighbors.

Card #1:

Card #2:

Card #3:

Card #4:

And... Card #5:

Dear Diary,

Standing Rib Roast. Those were the words on a grocery store sign I passed by on the way home. I was so delirious and ready to be home by then, that I imagined a little slab of meat standing on puny cartoon legs. What exactly is a standing rib roast, anyway? Ribs are part of the torso; they don't have legs!

Then I started to think about roast. Why, exactly did we decide that the word roast should become a noun? It's a verb. If you roast something, it becomes a roast. If you toast something it becomes toast. But why doesn't this work for every verb? How come when you pilot a new idea it doesn't become a pilot and start whizzing off in a plane? Or when you jump on a box, why doesn't it become 'box jump'?

English is weird. So am I. We are quite the pair.

Here's a doodle I made at work:

Dear Diary,

Today has been fairly productive. This time I went to bed before 4am and woke up before 2pm. This is quite an accomplishment for me. I must admit, I have gotten rather addicted to Gaia's new mmorpg called ZOMG. I know, I know. It sounds like total kid stuff. It is. It's the candy version of WOW or Final Fantasy. Yes. I am a childish dork. Somehow the contrast to my constant focus on performance standards, technique, repertoire, genres, form, harmonic progression, chordal analysis, compositional technique, rhythmic patterns, and the ilk is extremely appealing. I think that's part of the reason I blog so much. Meh.

Anyway, as I was saying, today was productive. I went with my church choir to sing some Christmas music downtown at the city market. My home is such an artsy place that's so appreciative of music, theater, and visual arts. We performed/worshiped [we sang both sacred and secular songs] just across the road from an awesome art gallery. My dad, who's an art teacher, and brother popped by and we all went in the gallery to look around before the concert. It was awesome. I just love art. I love to stare at it, read about it, think about it, let it fill me.

The very first pieces I came across used bits of actual sheet music; so I got up close and started singing the songs. They were all popular love songs. The colors that particular artist used got me all fired up- really strong blues and greens and nice, thick, bold black outlines.

The next artist's section had a wonderfully ancient, abused looking journal hanging on the wall by his pieces with a worn out pen. By it, there was an explanation, along with his artist's statement [riddled with grammatical errors that made me wince.] The idea, however, was quite lovely. He was collecting visitor's dreams to include in his art pieces. I was completely fascinated. So I took the pen, and scribbled down one of my very disturbing nightmares that haunt and follow me like memories for years on end. I chose a fairly short one on cannibalism. I wonder what kind of piece it will live in some day.



Another artist's pieces really captured my attention; they used mixed media to reflect americana ideals. The rusted, twisted, grotesque caricatures were just so compelling. I was enraptured.

The final piece that caught my attention was a rather large ink and canvas drawing with anime style faces, but they seemed tesselated somehow. They filled every single space of the canvas, even upon the sides. I also remember there was a painting right to the left of it that had a wonderfully thick, shiny, transparent laquor over it that made me want to touch it. However, the colors and shapes were unappealing to me, and it was literally too far over my head to touch. Too bad I can't show you pictures, but that would probably be an infringement on the artists' rights- and I know for a fact that our local artists are already poor enough as it is, despite the massive amount of talent and ingenuity they possess.

Well, the concert turned out rather nicely. I was ecstatic that my father and brother came because my family is Catholic and doesn't really like the fact that I am now "Protestant". I got to introduce them to the woman who took me to the ER on Sunday when I had kidney stones; she staid with me the whole time and helped me a ton because she's a pharmacist and knew all the doctors. That chic also has an amazing voice; it's crazy. Well she sang some solos, and I sang a solo in a really cute song called "Parade of the Wooden Soldiers." The solo was written for a child, but since I am small and look extremely young, the choir director figured I could do it. It was so much fun! I put my hair in two braids just for the occasion. The wonderful news, though, is that my family really liked the music. I just know that will be a testimony in their hearts that not all Protestants are evil. Maybe one day they will understands and accept me again. Who knows?

All I know is I have GOT to sing. Every piece of my DNA was made to sing my soul out for Christ, and God called me to this particular church, not because it's Catholic or Protestant, or black or white, or rich or poor, but because He knew that this place would put me to proper use and help me fulfill my purpose.

I suppose this entry is long enough.



Farewell,