When you have shit to take care of look no further. Time to roll up those pretend sleeves and listen to this song.
0 Comments
What I thought to be my third eye became something far from it. A nice solid zit to start off the first day of school accompanied me. So my first friend was easy to make with it residing on my left cheek.
I surely didn't order a pimple to-go on Taco Bell's late night menu. But that's what came about from the cheese quesadilla and potato griller. I guess the pimple was silently hiding on the receipt. Anywho, last night was the first night I received enough z's off in sulmber land to wake up fully rested. Last night I was able to tap into a thirty minute mediation. Something radiate about the feeling of your own being. When thoughts no longer seem to clog the over-all human experience. a sense of belonging resides within. Tapping into this power isn't easy, but I am certain this practice is what will keep me at home within, and the pimples down to a minimum. As the birds chaotically chirp a language I can only hear, the universal beat of my heart becomes noticed. Almost 4:16 a.m. The sun hasn't rubbed her eyes of beauty to awaken the world just yet.
Here, I lay. Restless. *Cue the melodramatic symphony by Kurt Cobain The ungodly artists block has victimized more people than Regina George ever did in her high school career. At least we all know we do not stand alone. Those frustrating nights of a paint brush full of goop and mind full of a decaptivating fog of blankness blinds you. BAM. You instantly feel you suck and have no ideas to ripple out into the world of blank canvas': whatever that canvas may be.
So like any good story, I shall start it how my goofy father taught me. So there I was.......in the city of Chicago strolling' my sunshine stuff across Millennium Park before having to head into work at 8:30. "Twas 8:15 a.m. and I was on a mission to quick play some Frisbee because why the eff not. So with my purple square lunch box, and beach purse with my lovely white Frisbee I was on the hunt. When hunting for a Frisbee partner keep a few things in mind. The person must look approachable and not senile. Oh and they should have at least one arm. Wrists are crucial too. Otherwise the rest is in your hands. Within about 2 minutes of my hunt I spotted a sweet looking young woman. She had a square lunch box, like myself, but yellow while also reading a book in the shade. Instantly, I knew she was my kinda Frisbee girl. I mean hello, we had matching lunch boxes and she chose a good spot for shade. Madeleine is what she called herself and we tossed for about a five minutes while networking. Quite impressive for two college student/interns. Anyhow, us ladies exchanged emails and quickly found out we both enjoy the crap out of creating art with both pencil, paint, and smiles. About a week later (today, marks our second meet up) and something beautiful happened. We exchanged canvas' we both didn't finish. Take THAT artisits' block, put it in your pipe and smoke it. Us frisbee throwin', dress rockin', interning ladies took collaboration to a whole new level. Results are to be continued..... Thank you Madeleine for not being a stranger. Here's to more people with your kick ass touch of charisma on the world. See you soon. xoxo Frisbee Girl in Park
You know you gotta case of college when you carry a Frisbee at all times. This is the number one statistic that I've made up and claim to be TRUE. Hear that Artistotle? I found some truth.
On the real, I really did find some truth throughout my freshman year at Purdue Calumet. And here's to finding more of it my sophomore year. Uncensored sounds like I'm about to rap some lines from Biggie Smalls. Quite a joke from someone who's as pale as a saltine cracker who's shelf life has long expired. Either way, I'm about to ooze my thoughts onto this white space to let a brother know what I think of strangers here in the city of Chicago. Strangers come in all shapes sizes, just like the boogers you (don't) pick. One must pick their poison well when decided to go up to a stranger. Seems to me there is no right or wrong time, just about approach as well as setting. It's kinda like dipping your finger in honey when you catch the right stranger at the right time. I still consider frisbee the best approach. If you ain't down for some frisbee, you probably aren't that cool. But hey, I have been wrong before. Until next time, stranger. My computer key board here at the San Jose Group is the victim to my crumby granola fingers. Dancing all over each key with intention and grace, emails are written and sent off into the world of digitalocity. (Made up word for a real thing. Because you're reading my blog. Not a dictionary.
Across the hall is another office with the tiniest logo on their glass doors. The logo is is a long as my pinky. Screen Vision is reads. Since April I've only seen older woman in a variety of flowy dresses walk in a out. It only makes sense they wear flowy fabric, to go with their constant moving life. The phone here has rang about five times. Three dropped calls, one real person, and a woman who says "oops, wrong number". So I haven't been busy in the work sense. Just reading articles, researching Y&R, and avidly listening to youtube while emailing my eldest sis and friends. By now, all the granola crumbs on my fingers have sank to the bottomless black trench in between letters on the keyboard. I switched to cold green beans to go with my youtube station. Currently playing "Pork and Beans" by Weezer. The wizards of the music world. If ya'll go to heaven, Weezer will probably be the guest band on Thursday's. Just a hunch. |
My CallingWriting for artists, as an artist. Va va voom. A new way of reading art news in Chicago // Denver. Thank you, dear ones. Archives
November 2020
Artists UniteRead artist reviews and artist news highlighting the passion of creating and individual, international success stories here.
Categories |