I should totally put up a blog with blog posts that shouldn't be posted. Because I went off the other day and wrote something down, but let it sit there on my desktop. And believe me that's a good thing. That one was out there. Blah, blah, blah, family drama. So instead, I'm going to talk about mundane crap. Well, you know that we moved the monster out of my room. I got used to listening to my cd's on it. Because if you're like me, you have a collection. I also have an mp3 player. But who has the fundage to switch everything out? Not me. And if the cd's work, why bother? I have an impressive collection. I wouldn't call it ample, but impressive. So we dug my stereo out of the closet. A decision I instantly regretted. There are too many speakers and too much wire. I felt like I got lost in a giant version of cat's cradle last night. And my laptop thought it was being clever by auto-typing my password on the Venice website. Only one problem. It was typing it wrong. Only took me two freakin wks to figure that out, so it's fine. Stupid computer. But epi 6 was worth the wait.
In other news, I'm not the type to dream about celebrities. But the other night I must of had too much kool-aid, (I don't drink kool-aid, it's a joke people.Yes, it's a bad 1.) because I had this dream about Madonna. Well, I'm actually okay with that except it wssn't what I expected a dream about her to be like. It was boring yet odd. I mean, come on. No seduction? I was disappointed to say the least. But in a way, it makes sense. I honestly cannot fathom such a scenerio. I also figured out I was dreaming too. This is me we're talking about after all. So here's what happened. I found myself on her private jet. And the kids were looking at me like who the hell are you? They asked their mother who I was and what I was doing there. She said she didn't know. I fell asleep on the fuselodge floor. She came in woke me up and told me I had to go. Then I woke up.Oh. And she wwas piloting her own plane too which I know is possible.
But she doesn't do it.
I started working on the make-out painting from a few months back and it's getting
there. Also, back in what? '04? I did this death scene piece that was influenced by the movie the others with Nicole Kidman in it. You know the one where she and her kids die but they don't know it? And around the house are these photo albums of olde time death scenes. They look like they're asleep, not dead. There aren't any coffins or obvious indications. Well, that affected me. But unfortunately, I showed the painting to a friend who is sensitive to things of a darker nature. And I let her attitude affect me and screwed up the painting. Some of you might remember me refering to it in its current inception as metapissical. Anyway, I caught a glance at it the other day during the stereo hunt and me tinks I'm ready to finish it now. The movie itself wasn't that good, but for some reason the death albums got to me. I do have to learn to not let other people influence the end result of my work negatively. I guess that's another wsay to say take some constructive critism, bitch. I also know what to show and what not to now.
I think I'm ready to start emailing artists from the show. It's a little weird for me. I've never been terribly social and I'm not sure what the rules are when it comes to this.
Any ideas?
I did get some of my stuff off the monster today though.
My bro has a subscription to netflix and put True Blood and Inglorious Basterds on his que/ Well, damn it to hell. I kept dozing off during Inglorious, which sucks ass. I'm a huge Tarrantino fan. He make the most ridiculoussly mundane and irrelevant things seem worth pondering. But this thing had subtitles crammwd up the wazoo which would have been fine except I was so freakin tired. And my br's goal is to watch as many flicks as he can b4 the 30 days is up. So it got sent back and I'm not mad about it. Really.
Ok, so the laptop is line jumping again and it's pissing me off. So I'm leaving now. But I did video chat with Miss Techinno the other day and that was weird. I'm gonna have to get used to it.
Yeah, bye.
No comments:
Post a Comment