Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Monday, May 25, 2009
tiny notebooks!
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
feelings, bullshit doctor nonsense, good stuff and other things
Feelings: I am having them. This hot girl business has got me all stirred up. And I have this pathetic lonely-martyr bent that I really need to eliminate but that has been super-ingrained for years so it's not just going to disappear, you know what I mean? It is rooted in my severe self-image and self-esteem issues. And it's fucking with my shit and I hate that. In my mind it doesn't make sense that anyone would hit on me. Which means I am fucked up. Again with the self-loathing, right? What is that? It is so unnecessary and counterproductive. Any time someone comes onto me my brain goes into panic-lockdown-sabotage mode and I ignore my intuition, which is, of course, bad. I'm just like, "No. Certainly not. Can't be true. Impossible." Why why why can't I stop? Why can't I just be ok with myself? Let go of the self-hatred. (Maybe that also means I have to let go of the hatred and bad-feelings I have for my dad and that is part of the problem because I am still clutching tightly onto all of that like it's a security blanket.)
Bullshit doctor nonsense: my fucking doctor, who I actually liked even though I hate doctors, closed her office and disconnected her phone and for some reason no one called me about it. Had I not called the hospital her office is in I would not have known this. I would have driven all the fucking way out to stupid South Tulsa, discovered that her office no longer exists, gotten pissed that I wasted all that time and gas when I could have been at home self-soothing or watching the L Word, and possibly cried because I am that tired today. Good thing I avoided all of that shit. And of course the part of me that hates doctors the most is rejoicing because I don't have to go the doctor today. The practical, grown-up part of me is aggravated because I need to go to the doctor, and now I have to find a new doctor and I hate trying to find a new doctor because so fucking many of them are completely awful. It's a total crapshoot unless you get a recommendation from someone.
Fuck. Stupid doctors. If I thought I could get away with it I would treat my body like I treat my car and just drive it into the ground. I mean I kind of do that right now, but not totally. I take my medicine, get enough sleep, try to eat decently, think about how I should be exercising more, the usual stuff. But if it involves doctors I have a huge mental block about it. It's because I was sick so much when I was young and I went to lots of doctors who a) were really mean and b) misdiagnosed me, repeatedly. I mean, so many fucking appointments, every week almost, sometimes more than once a week. So many different medications. Different kinds of doctors. Even fake doctors, like Chiropractors and Accupuncturists. Mom made me go. I don't know if she was misguided. Probably. She was frantically trying to figure out what my deal was. My unique combination of physical and psychological issues makes for an awful mess for someone to try and decipher, I guess.
Good stuff: we have study group tonight. I am bringing my portfolio to show to my new gay friend. I also have some pictures of Andrea, Dave and Kobi on my phone to show her, too. Yay new gay friend!
Also, Mo, my coworker who is a million times better than all the others, is going to interview me about the use of media in the classroom. It's for his doctoral dissertation or something related to his doctorate. I'm excited because Mo is awesome and adorable. He made a good choice by picking me to interview because I am a font of knowledge about the use of media in the classroom. I went to art school. I was a New Media major. It was all about media. Anyway. Mo is the best. I am super-glad to help him out.
Other things: I'm tired. I can't wait for work to be over. I get to watch the L-Word when I get home. My mood is weird today. Mondays are lame. I have a quiz tomorrow. I have a new gay friend. Did you know that? Maybe I already told you.
That's about it, I guess.
Bullshit doctor nonsense: my fucking doctor, who I actually liked even though I hate doctors, closed her office and disconnected her phone and for some reason no one called me about it. Had I not called the hospital her office is in I would not have known this. I would have driven all the fucking way out to stupid South Tulsa, discovered that her office no longer exists, gotten pissed that I wasted all that time and gas when I could have been at home self-soothing or watching the L Word, and possibly cried because I am that tired today. Good thing I avoided all of that shit. And of course the part of me that hates doctors the most is rejoicing because I don't have to go the doctor today. The practical, grown-up part of me is aggravated because I need to go to the doctor, and now I have to find a new doctor and I hate trying to find a new doctor because so fucking many of them are completely awful. It's a total crapshoot unless you get a recommendation from someone.
Fuck. Stupid doctors. If I thought I could get away with it I would treat my body like I treat my car and just drive it into the ground. I mean I kind of do that right now, but not totally. I take my medicine, get enough sleep, try to eat decently, think about how I should be exercising more, the usual stuff. But if it involves doctors I have a huge mental block about it. It's because I was sick so much when I was young and I went to lots of doctors who a) were really mean and b) misdiagnosed me, repeatedly. I mean, so many fucking appointments, every week almost, sometimes more than once a week. So many different medications. Different kinds of doctors. Even fake doctors, like Chiropractors and Accupuncturists. Mom made me go. I don't know if she was misguided. Probably. She was frantically trying to figure out what my deal was. My unique combination of physical and psychological issues makes for an awful mess for someone to try and decipher, I guess.
Good stuff: we have study group tonight. I am bringing my portfolio to show to my new gay friend. I also have some pictures of Andrea, Dave and Kobi on my phone to show her, too. Yay new gay friend!
Also, Mo, my coworker who is a million times better than all the others, is going to interview me about the use of media in the classroom. It's for his doctoral dissertation or something related to his doctorate. I'm excited because Mo is awesome and adorable. He made a good choice by picking me to interview because I am a font of knowledge about the use of media in the classroom. I went to art school. I was a New Media major. It was all about media. Anyway. Mo is the best. I am super-glad to help him out.
Other things: I'm tired. I can't wait for work to be over. I get to watch the L-Word when I get home. My mood is weird today. Mondays are lame. I have a quiz tomorrow. I have a new gay friend. Did you know that? Maybe I already told you.
That's about it, I guess.
Friday, February 6, 2009
things
This is the poster I bought:
It is a beautiful three-color silkscreen limited edition of either 45 or 100. It's awesome and I am going to put it in a nice black frame. Art school turned me into a black-frame-white-mat person. Does that make me boring or does it make me a Fascist? I haven't decided.
KCAI is having Alumni Weekend in May. Can you be an alum if you didn't graduate? Unimportant. There's no way I could handle going back there at this point in my life. That's actually a lie. I can totally handle it. Fuck. Maybe I should go. Maybe it would be therapeutic. Maybe it would just be humiliating. Do you show? No. Do you have any new work? No. Do you feel dead inside and heartbroken because in your life you have abandoned not one, but two of your true loves? Why yes, yes I do. *commence blackout drinking*
In other news, the Robert ParkeHarrison exhibit at the Nelson that I desperately wanted to go to is ending on Sunday. That's like a tiny knife in my crusted-over heart because it's my fault and my fault alone that I did not make that happen.
I think maybe I should be in therapy again. I hate therapy. But I have this self-loathing that I don't know what to do with.
Blerg, you guys. Just... blerg.
It is a beautiful three-color silkscreen limited edition of either 45 or 100. It's awesome and I am going to put it in a nice black frame. Art school turned me into a black-frame-white-mat person. Does that make me boring or does it make me a Fascist? I haven't decided.
KCAI is having Alumni Weekend in May. Can you be an alum if you didn't graduate? Unimportant. There's no way I could handle going back there at this point in my life. That's actually a lie. I can totally handle it. Fuck. Maybe I should go. Maybe it would be therapeutic. Maybe it would just be humiliating. Do you show? No. Do you have any new work? No. Do you feel dead inside and heartbroken because in your life you have abandoned not one, but two of your true loves? Why yes, yes I do. *commence blackout drinking*
In other news, the Robert ParkeHarrison exhibit at the Nelson that I desperately wanted to go to is ending on Sunday. That's like a tiny knife in my crusted-over heart because it's my fault and my fault alone that I did not make that happen.
I think maybe I should be in therapy again. I hate therapy. But I have this self-loathing that I don't know what to do with.
Blerg, you guys. Just... blerg.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
save it for your ivillage blog, lemon
Today is the last day of 2008. It doesn't really feel that big or important this year because I'm in that place where everything is kind of normal and even and steady and non-dramatic and maybe even boring (in a good way). I got the tumult over with a few months ago.
I did the death/rebirth thing already this year. I feel kind of like I am coasting right now. I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing. I don't think I am stagnating. Krystal says I am not stagnating.
Things just are, and I am just doing. I don't know how else to say it.
And, I mean, maybe parts of me are hibernating, but only because they need to be. Specifically, in this case, the hibernating parts are my artistic self and my romantic (I don't know if that's exactly the right word, but I'm just going to roll with it) self. Both of these selves are still really hurt and scared and have cocooned, I guess. How does one go about coaxing them back into the sunlight?
The art part is most troubling to me because the whole school-falling-through thing happened two and a half years ago. I have to figure out how to heal that wound, and it is significant. I still feel it. It's like a death. I guess of part of myself. And my job is to Lazarus it.
So that's fun. I'll figure it out, though. It's what I do.
Merry New Year's to the two people who read this blog.
I did the death/rebirth thing already this year. I feel kind of like I am coasting right now. I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing. I don't think I am stagnating. Krystal says I am not stagnating.
Things just are, and I am just doing. I don't know how else to say it.
And, I mean, maybe parts of me are hibernating, but only because they need to be. Specifically, in this case, the hibernating parts are my artistic self and my romantic (I don't know if that's exactly the right word, but I'm just going to roll with it) self. Both of these selves are still really hurt and scared and have cocooned, I guess. How does one go about coaxing them back into the sunlight?
The art part is most troubling to me because the whole school-falling-through thing happened two and a half years ago. I have to figure out how to heal that wound, and it is significant. I still feel it. It's like a death. I guess of part of myself. And my job is to Lazarus it.
So that's fun. I'll figure it out, though. It's what I do.
Merry New Year's to the two people who read this blog.
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