update
A forward falling mistaken for running, how else to learn, though. Phase II in sample wall means collaboration with a friend, fighting for three-dimensionality. I drew a sketch for her to create a moquette out of paper so we can further edit.
There are major gaps in my WWII timeline understanding and I am hoping to forge it, pursue it this week.
Applying for a summer workshop so I can escape in July. The dust in my throat is too much.
I have incredible eye strain, so impending migraine syndrome has taken hold. I have three exhibitions scheduled for the next three months. I am researching summer class "residencies" this summer, scouting potential professors for grad school. Busy is understated and I am so glad for the wiggling room. I want to revise my statement about reassurance;
proud people are never reassured
All I do is write, re-write, re-write the re-writes, etc.
All I do is make funny samples, all I do is organize a new periodic table, all I do is
The wall in the center of studio is nearly mine permanent and all critique dates are waved, for the sake of ideology.
Hard at work deconstructing and rearranging the a-heroic journey; blazing through The Hunger Games and Philosophy criticism, finishing Anthem in one breath and still trudging through blinding snow.
I find it easy to wake up every morning and work impulsively, without repercussion of failing a greater theory. It is freedom to work for work's sake.
Done waiting.
I asked for the center wall and now organize within it. I stopped looking for inspiration and move my hands infinite instead. I sit in corners when nobody else needs them, I can't wait to sleep because it means studio at 8AM sharp the next morning.
I make ugly things and bad art and wrong seams and awful decisions in the drop dead center of studio and I have never felt more alive.
I found three cliche stress dreams due to school starting next week, cleaned up my reading list and made an enormous pot of chili to cover next week's meals. Still yet to take down the Christmas decorations or finish the organizing painting. I washed all my clothing and promptly discarded a quarter of them. I will buy more Precise V5 pens soon.
I began a sketchbook last week. It is a sequel to the hand bound Life China book. So far only words fall on the pages, but I'll loosen up once this semester begins.
Constant movement to flush out gravity; "Partition" is a new anthem. An organized painting found me nights ago, so I sit on asleep nerves and arrange pieces from magazine pages. I've only eaten sausage and potatoes and rice. I desperately long to cope.
Moving west like a treatment, but we know it's only because I want control .
Using Christmas cards to detox from the semester, self-imposed deadline instead of appeasing dialogue.
Track for continuation of detox and output of work include: at least one drawing/organized collage due every Saturday, an explanation of how to thread a loom, reading The Economist every week (as a coffee muse), catching up on lost reading, start and finish Breaking Bad, "researching" the radio/Beyonce's new album. All this is held accountable by others; it is easier to construct when people are relying on you.