Entitlement

Over the past year or so, I've become very aware of my "stuff" and how much of it I have. This ranges from tangible to intangible, but for now, I'm mostly talking about the concrete stuff. The more stuff I have, the more weighed down I feel. For example, whenever I'm getting ready to move, I try to consolidate what I absolutely need to keep and sell the rest or give it away. Having to move tons of furniture and whatnot from point A to point B feels like such a chore to me. Most of my large belongings were acquired through Craig's List or thrift stores; maybe this makes it easier to not be so attached or have so much stock placed in certain items. They have a purpose for a time and place and then they're passed on via sale or donation. I'm not sure if this is economically savvy money-wise, but I'd like to believe that it's better, in general, to get something used vs. buying it new for the sake of using the crap out of raw materials vs. disposing them.

I don't want to turn this into a post focused on how wasteful we are as consumers and how we all need to "go green", recycle, etc. More so, I find it curious how being able to waste is almost part of our standard of living. I can't speak for the world, but for the U.S., there is a mentality that it is our right to have anything we want in whatever quantity we desire, and we'll be damned if we go to the store and the item we need is out of stock or we don't have the 50+ color options in lipstick, furniture, paint, etc. I'm not saying we should all wear the same clothes or have the same stuff OR that everything should be rationed out (hello, communism. in a utopia, you would work). But I do think we have a responsibility to be aware of and act as necessary when it comes to "stuff": buying it, disposing of it, saving it, our attachments to it, passing it on... 

This mindset has changed my point-of-view on a few things including books/movies and food/health. I enjoy owning books (especially art books for reference), but over the past year or so, I've been more inclined to just borrow a book from the library (unless I really need to write all over it). Too often, my bookshelves became dust magnets, outlined by the book spines that moved maybe three times per year. With food, I think the simpler, the better. I feel lighter, healthier when my foods have as little preservatives or fillers as possible. However, I have a hard time resisting cupcakes.

I'm not sure I have a point other than how important I think it is to simplify. See Domestic Kate for another perspective on simplicity.

In short, to me, less stuff = simplifying = less attachment to inanimate objects = more brain space = a greater ability to live in the moment.

Jennah-Shoes

Jennah-shoes are the $3.50 rubber flip flops available @ Old Navy (or 2 for $5.00 if you feel thrifty & want more than one color). I call them this because my dear friend, Jennah, wears a pair of these religiously. She and I have never discussed this, but I admire her ability to wear her blue or pink pair of rubber flops with any outfit and make it work. I recently purchased a silver pair just to bum around in since I don't have the stylish capabilities of Jennah + her shoes :)

I met Jennah while teaching; she was one of the kindergarten teachers. After our first time hanging out off campus, we became friends pretty quickly. It also helped that we only lived a few blocks away from each other. I think our bond was sealed when I went through this ordeal... Jennah was the one to help me lug the couch out of the house after a lot of my screaming and freaking out. Our friendship especially progressed when she introduced me to yoga at M Body which led to our joint-participation in their 40 Day program. Besides that, our dogs are boyfriend and girlfriend since they haven known each other since their puppy days. No, really. If either of them hears the others name, they get incredibly excited and start whining or barking.

This weekend, Jennah will be in DC for her friend's bachelorette party. I'm thrilled that I'll be able to steal some of her time. Ever wish you could take people with you, wherever you go?

Cupcakes

     Saturday, Anthony and I went to one of his co-worker's houses for a BBQ. I made cupcakes to go along with the 4 bottles of soda we provided (very healthy, I know). For Easter, my mom sent me this cute, little cupcake recipe book that also includes other concoctions for pies, cakes, and cookies. I have a thing for making (and eating) cupcakes, so I tried the "Chocolate covered Strawberry Tart" cupcake recipe. They turned out delicious, but I have a couple of grievances:
 1. The base for the cake is cookie mix...so they are really cookies with icing on top in cupcake form. 
2. No where in the book does it state that these recipes are for mini-cupcakes. I should have figured this out when I read to only put one teaspoon of cookie batter into each cup, but I didn't read that far ahead before buying the supplies. Therefore, I had to go back & purchase more mix and was only able to make 24 "cupcakes" total.

While these were quite tasty, I think my favorite part was the colors; I think this is usually my favorite part about cooking in general. To me, he more colorful, the more appetizing. Of course it should taste good, but I personally enjoy the presentation aspect of baking or cooking. Maybe that's the visual artist coming out. Anyways, they looked cute: pink cups, chocolate cake, pink frosting, and mini-chocolate chips on top.  

Last summer, I bought a cupcake recipe book. I think I only tried one recipe from that book. While they turned out well, I always seem to have trouble when it comes to making frosting. It's always the wrong consistency, i.e. too runny. Maybe an electric mixer would solve that problem :) Any suggestions are welcome.

Now, go eat a cupcake!

A word on Lady Gaga-Dada-Dali-Warhol

I like Lady Gaga. It's a bit of a guilty pleasure, as is my love for Justin Timberlake and Timbaland. But with Gaga, it's not jut about her music being catchy. I have my reasons :) From what I've read, she is a legitimate musician having been somewhat of a child prodigy with the piano and later attended NYU in order to study music. Mostly though, I think her whole performer-persona is intriguing.

The first thing I am reminded of when I see her videos is performance art and/or what is called an art happening. She also seems like a female, musical-artist version of Andy Warhol; she defines, re-defines, embraces, and utilizes pop as her genre of choice without trying to glorify it into something more pristine. Pop is very disposable. It (a product, a song, a fashion fad, etc.) is desirable one moment and taboo the next, continuously evolving into the next temporary craze. An evolution based on temporaryism which doesn't necessarily improve or depreciate it (pop) in value...hmmm, interesting. Anyways, I appreciate that Gaga understands this and uses it to her benefit through her music, fashion, and video productions. It's difficult to take something like pop and twist it around so that you control it instead of the other way around. If it controls you, you're coined as cheesy, fake, a media puppet (see Brittney Spears). Gaga's style is also very Dada and Dali-esque, incorporating elements of nonsense (the Dada part) and surrealism (the Dali part). Just watch her "Bad Romance" video if you don't know what I mean. Non-functional clothing? Impossible shoes? Headgear that doesn't allow you to actually see? Laying next to a decomposing skeleton? What more do you need...

I also appreciate the status she maintains as a female performer. She's a sex-symbol but in a much more powerful way than Madonna, Brittney Spears, Christina Aguilera, and so on. Again, the biggest difference is Gaga's ability to maintain control (or the illusion of it) over pop, almost creating it as she goes. Performers like Madonna, however, who had great potential to do this, really f-ed it all up when she opted to be sex symbol and well...be a sex symbol. There's this line of trashiness that Madonna always crosses just for the sake of selling her music or rather, her show(s). Don't get me wrong: I enjoy some of her music, but I have virtually no respect for her as a person.

I can do without Gaga's choreography, or lack thereof, as well as her leotards, unitards, whatever-tards. Aside from that I find her and the craze she's created pretty interesting. Is she an asshole for manipulating the pop genre in order to become famous? Maybe. But I find it humorous that she's able to consciously do this and get away with it. Thank you, Andy Warhol, for paving the way.

Slobber & Stuff

You know you're a dog person when the neighborhood dogs' names are retained in your memory instead of the owners' (or if you're blogging about your dog).  I still contest that people are more likely to talk, period, when you're walking a dog. And then there are those awkward times when the stranger gives a little too much attention to your pet and ignores your existence completely. Hmmm.

I'm very thankful for the small dog park area within the apartment complex. I don't take Sam there every day, but it's nice maybe once or twice a week if we didn't get a long walk in that day. Today, Sam met Marty (a 4mo. old Goldendoodle) and Kara and their respective owners, John Doe (with the shaved head) and John Doe (with the Sperry's). Now, most owners are pretty easy-going, especially @ a dog park. It's just understood that your dog is going to run around, bark & growl, sniff and chew stuff that's questionable, slobber, drool, and, well, be a dog. Sam slobbers quite a bit for her size (well, it's more like foam). When gravity starts to take over, it turns into this long, stringy strand of goop just waiting for touchdown.

This, apparently, bothered Mr. shaved head and Mr. Sperry's as they commented on Sam's slobber several times. It got to the point where any time she went near their dogs, they acted as a body guard so that some of her slobber wouldn't touch their fur. I thought about apologizing but decided that was unnecessary and idiotic. Their failed body guard attempts were followed by comments like, "...and I JUST gave Marty a bath!" and "Jeez, Kara. Now you're soaking wet." Really, people? I'd have to say the best part was when Sam, in one of her frantic sprints around the perimeter, bumped into Mr. Sperry's leg and wiped all of her foam onto his shin. I know that sounds mean, but
1. so is passively aggressively implying that my dog is unfit for playing with other dogs due to her drool
2. don't come to a dark park, period, if you aren't planning on you or your dog getting a little dirty...that's like  doing a workout and getting pissed off that you sweat.

Ok. Enough childishness

My interview today went well; I am to expect a call on Sunday or Monday with their decision as they have other people to interview between now and then. Thanks for your good vibes.

A Call-back

Tomorrow morning, I have an interview @ Borders. Hey, it's a start. I haven't heard back from The Phillips Collection Museum which actually has disclaimer on the bottom of their application page that says,  
Due to the volume of applications received, we regret that we are unable to respond to individual inquiries regarding application status. Only candidates selected for interviews will be contacted. Really? No time frame for contacting potential candidates? No time frame for when the job-posting expires? Oh well.

The last job interview I had involved my future superior telling me that it would be unwise for him to place me in a high school teaching position because I looked like I'd date the students. There were many other inappropriate comments made, but I'd have to say that was one of the most difficult interviews to sit through. Here's hoping that tomorrow's is much more pleasant, especially because the manager who called me today said, "Just be sure to bring your witty sense of humor". Hmmm.

Memory of the day: As a kid, I fell off my bike more often than not. My knees are covered in oddly-shaped scars to prove it. 

Explore

Recently, I've been thinking about doing a series of memory-inspired paintings. This thought has crossed my mind several times in the past, but I'm really feeling the want to get some of this stuff out with paint. I have no idea how it will come to fruition, but I suppose that's part of what makes it exciting (and potentially frustrating). I have 8, primed pieces of masonite staring at me, begging for some experimenting to begin. I think I'd like to work from childhood photographs of family/friends/houses etc. There's something very dream-like about memories, especially childhood ones, and my dreams have been exceptionally vivid over the past 3 months. Maybe there's a connection between the two that is worth exploring. 

Speaking of exploring, I've been spending the past 3 weeks feeling out Alexandra, VA, and Washington DC. Being in a new city can be daunting, but overall I think it's healthy for me. I'm somewhat forced to emerge from my comfort zone and embrace naivety, curiosity, and my tendency to get lost while driving. Aside from being a mecca for the visual arts, downtown DC is pretty awesome...and somewhat perplexing. I'm used to New York City which is loud, teeming, paved from head to toe with the trees in little gates. DC is busy, of course, but it feels so much more open than a place like NYC. There aren't really any skyscrapers, and thanks to the museums and historic landmarks/monuments, there are plenty of wide-open parks, fields, and trees. There are so many tourist groups (high schools, bands, middle schools, etc) walking around with their chaperons that it's hard to feel like an outsider. It's actually kind of comforting to know that most of the people you walk past have no idea where they are headed either.

Memory for the day: I learned what the word "explore" meant from my Dad. There was rarely a vacation, day-trip, or weekend drive that didn't involve him pulling over to the side of the road in some desolate area so that we could walk around a piece of property. As a child, I remember asking, "What are we doing?" to which Dad would respond, "We're exploring!" Ok. Cool. We get to walk around in some unknown area (normally through the woods), surrounded by trees, unprepared for any chance encounter with a wild animal. It became one of my favorite things (even though I'm sure I whined about it at the time), and I think this was the birth of my love for nature and tree canopies.

Disassemble

There's a bird I take with me wherever I go. So far, we have been through 5 moves: Mallory to Oleander to Herschel to S. Moon to Casey Key & back to S. Moon. It's a flat silhouette of a turquoise bird made from thin metal. Her wing is raised and there's a hole from her breast to her stomach. This hole houses a small, purple gem attached to the body by a thin, coiled wire. I suppose it represents the heart. And attached to the top of her wing is a simple, leather loop. Through every move, I give her a floating home by looping the leather strap around the ceiling fan chain of my bedroom(s). Inanimate object? Sure. But she remained constant as I moved in to one place, moved out of another, rearranged, ripped apart, put back together, lost friends, gained friends, laughed, cried, prayed, cursed...everything.

At the end of September, I resigned from my teaching job. My world, it seemed, was falling apart. It's stupidly obvious now but if you're not happy, the job, salary, benefits, apartment, and routines mean nothing. I'd become this desensitized vessel, going through the motions of what I thought I should be doing instead of what I wanted to be doing. I realized shortly after I left Jacksonville that I just hadn't been listening to myself. I didn't pay attention, and this was due to a major lack of trust within. I've started rebuilding that over the past 4 months, but sometimes it still feels like I'm taking things apart and unearthing little gems that are initially covered in crap.

Above all, I'm learning how important it is to trust and listen to oneself. It is only by doing this that I am then able to truly help others...to move from selfishness to selflessness. As Marianne Williamson says, "Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you." I think my little bird is a great reminder of this.

The most honest lie

Halloween, I'm finding, is a favorite holiday of many. What's not to love about it? People of all ages, shapes, and sizes get to dress up in some ridiculous (or totally awesome) costume to exercise some aspect of an alter ego. It's one day out of the year during which everyone is okay with each other acting a little goofy, weird, peculiar, eccentric, etc. I think somewhere between the planning, trick-or-treating, partying, and dressing as someone/something else, a more honest part of ourselves comes out. Maybe we should wear costumes more often.

As I sat with my sister on her front porch, waiting to treat trick-or-treaters, I thought about how Halloween is one of the most honest holidays. Absent are the attempts to convince children of Santa or the Easter bunny's existence (you can throw the tooth fairy in there too, though she/he doesn't have a holiday per say)....or stories about "pilgrims and indians" sitting down to a nice, harmonious, well-intentioned feast (eh-hem, we'll leave out the whole part about colonists giving the Native Americans furs that were infected with smallpox). Granted, our holidays have become entirely manufactured and commercialized (don't get me started). But I respect Halloween. Everyone knows what the traditions are without all the bickering and controversy. People seem to happily participate without a lot of fuss, other than the fuss over their costumes. Trick-or-treating starts at dusk; kids show up with questionable pillow cases held out for candy deposits; parents bring their infants and toddlers and walk their young ones through the neighborhoods; a lit porch light means candy is available....It's all very simple.

In short, I love Halloween for it's ability to bring out some awesomeness in just about everyone. All it takes is a little lie with a mask to bring out some honesty. Besides, who doesn't like free candy?

Thank you, Eric Weiner.

Recently, I finished reading The Geography of Bliss by Eric Weiner. Weiner worked for a decade as a journalist for NPR and then decided to explore (physically, philosophically, etc.) the happiest places in the world and their reason for being such. This was recommended to me by my dear friend, Jennah. NPR journalist + travel + happiness is a recipe for grabbing my attention.

He explores 10 regions: The Netherlands, Switzerland, Bhutan, Qatar, Iceland, Moldova (one of the least happy places in the world), Thailand, Great Britain, India, and America. I won't go on and on as if this is a book report, but this book really is a perfect balance of discovery, humor, self-exploration, philosophy, research, and travel.

There are many, many parts of this book that are thought-provoking to me, but I'll just pick 1 item for now.


Weiner writes,
...places are like time machines. They transport us back to years past. Rebecca Solnit observes, "Perhaps it's true that you can't go back in time, but you can return to the scene of a love, of a crime, of happiness, and of a fateful decision; the places are what remain, are what you can possess, are what is immortal." That's why we feel so disoriented when these touchstones from our past are altered...

Landscape (the respect and preservation of it) is a very powerful thing that is so easily bulldozed in America. For me, there is an excitement when visiting a city like New York or Boston where so much from the past has been maintained and utilized in the present. It's hard to feel any connection to a new strip mall that will surely be empty and demolished within a few years, only to be built again across the street. This same excitement exists in the presence of historic sites from the civil war...to think (and feel) that the same trees and earthworks were probably there all those years ago is incredible.

Anyways...

For a long time, I thought that a strong person should be able to maintain some kind of happiness regardless of where he/she was or who he/she was with. I've decided over the past few months that this little theory is total bullshit :) What happens without is just as significant as what happens within, and they are relative. Sometimes, seemingly everything without is hellish and chaotic (work, friends, finances, etc.) while inner strength & calm remains. Sometimes, the opposite is true. And then there are times when a balance exists.

The House

I had a dream the other night about a house. It was an old, two-story like the ones in Riverside with sizeable back and side yards. In the yard was an endless amount of junk...bird fountains, statues, lounge chairs, flower pots, mosaic tiles (stuff that seemed like junk because there was so much of it cluttered throughout).

The first level of this house was where I lived; I was renting, I believe. And I hated it. More junk in every corner and open space, dirty linens, musty towels and rags bunched up on shelves (note: a pet peeve of mine is when people leave damp towels/rags in a heap), papasan and mamasan chairs without cushions, dusty pillows, furniture everywhere. In short, it looked like a very unorganized thrift or antique store, invading every room and making it impossible to feel at home. I remember feeling frustrated because after all, this house had incredible square footage but no where to actually "live".

The second floor did not belong to me. In fact, I didn't have access to it. But somehow, I managed to scale part of the exterior, brick wall and pull myself up to peak in the window. There were no screens or glass, only a plastic dropcloth taped to the top of the sill, letting the breeze blow it around. For a moment, the breeze blew the plastic up so that I could see inside. The moment I saw inside, I felt at peace. And I had this great desire for that space to be mine instead of the first floor. What was on this second floor? Well, nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just an empty, slightly dusty large, sunny space through which the breeze could blow. I wanted to yell "Sanctuary!"

I'm not one to interpret dreams, but this one seems like a big, fat metaphor for what's been going on over the past few months. Lots of housekeeping/housecleaning with personal baggage, friendships, relationships, excess, attachment, detachment, etc. I can only assume that the 2nd floor symbolized the simplicity and openness that comes along with letting go, and I think that's why I yearned for it so much in my dream. I could go on, but I'll leave it at that.

Routines

There's this old woman who walks up and down the main strip in San Marco at night. I've seen her several times now. It is guaranteed that she will make her way to the San Marco Theatre, stand outside the main doors and peer inside at the person manning the cash register. She's always wearing the same thing: a large-floral print, button-down shirt with an ankle length navy blue skirt and loafers. Her gray hair is in a loose, low bun and her glasses sit a bit crooked on her nose. Her leathery arms are always folded. I discovered by eavesdropping at the theatre that she asks, everyday, to see a movie for free, even if it's the same movie. After all, SMT only plays one movie per night, two per day if they're feeling ambitious. So, she stands there staring at the owners until they cave in or until they outwardly deny her access.

I wonder where this woman is from, how she got here, why she always wears the same clothes, why I only see her at night, and if she has a place to stay. And she probably wonders why I'm always at the same Starbucks sketching...that is, if she even notices. She doesn't seem to see anything except for what's directly in front of her.

Over the past few months, I've become more and more curious about the bums (or those who seem like bums) around Riverside and San Marco. I see the same ones almost every day, and when I don't see them for a while, I worry that they're not alive anymore or that they've been hurt. This is especially true for the black man I see stumbling up and down Stockton, always carrying a big trash bag and wearing shoes that barely have a sole and a striped shirt that looks like it used to be gray and white horizontal stripes; now it's just brown. He's always wandering halfway in the south-bound lane, traffic having to purposefully avoid him. He worries me the most.

I have half a mind to stop and ask all those same questions I'd like to ask that woman, but things like common sense and fear stop that from happening. Still, I can't help my curiosity and my desire to know what it is they need. I'd like to photograph them and write their story, but that just seems like exploitation.

What's in your car?

After spending an evening with my dear friend, Aubree, I walked back to my car in the Town Center parking lot. As I unlocked the door, I looked in my window and realized how much stuff I have in my front and back seats; it's not necessarily valuable stuff, but stuff nonetheless and stuff that can tell a complete stranger a lot about me. Yoga mat, FTCE Professional Educator Study Guide, Starbucks cup, dog toy, sunblock, and drawing books, are just a few items.

So I have to ask, what's in your car? What does it say about you?

Why Not?

More sketches from the past few days:

Possibilities:

I've decided to stop putting my life in a box---to scrap "the plan" and be open to other paths instead of the one I feel, most times, like I must follow because of financial obligations or personal limitations which don't actually exist. I feel like I've made this list before...maybe only in my head.

-intern at NYC MOMA for a season (assuming I apply & get accepted)

-go to graduate school to get my MFA in painting and drawing (assuming the same thing)

-enroll in the teacher certification program at M Body so that I can teach yoga

-move to Austin and do the yoga TCP @ the baptiste affiliate studio there instead of here; look into UT's MFA program

-move to NYC to teach yoga at a baptiste affiliate studio (they actually have an instructor position open)

-finish my 3rd yr. of teaching art to get my professional teaching certificate, making it easier to get a teaching job elsewhere

-go back to school and get my doctorate in physical therapy (hello, 5 yrs. of school)

-become a full-time artist traveling and selling work at various art expos/festivals

-do something in botany

-look into film school

More & More Sketches

I suppose these are from lastest to oldest. Not to say that these are "finished", but some of these look half done because people moved while I was drawing them (how dare they!). I like doing contour drawing, but it's difficult to do in a public setting because I'm not paying these people to model for me :) They could move at any instant. This is why gesture drawing is more ideal in those situations.

I think I've mentioned before that drawing out in public reminds me of my trip to Venice, Italy: people come behind you and peer over your shoulder without saying a word. People's reactions are interesting and sometimes peculiar. I especially love when people say things like, "Hey, I have this photo of me and my dog. Can you draw it?"

Anyways, more later.

ps-apologies for the crappy photo quality of these sketches.

More Sketches

Okay, so my perspective is way off on some of these, particulary the one where it looks like the women's bowl and cup are about to fall off the table. Oh well. The other morning, I biked downtown and sketch part of the Main Street bridge. Landscape/cityscape isn't my thing, but I acutally enjoyed doing that sketch.

Hot, hot heat and Illusions

It's been so hot that going outside with any intention of staying sweat-free is futile, even for 5 minutes. I've decided to accept it rather than become annoyed. Summer, after all, is my favorite season. This is when I miss living 2 blocks away from the beach. At least there's a sea breeze there.

Over the past few weeks, I've been trying to nurture an interest in photography because I'd like to start incorporating collage into my paintings. Rather than cutting and pasting images from magazines, I'd rather take my own photos and use those. My friend, Rebecca, donated her old Nikon FM10 camera to the art program at SP. I decided to bring it home this summer and get a feel for it. With the help of my friends, Jennah and Patrick, I have a basic understanding of how to use the camera....more than just aim and shoot. Thanks, guys. After 2-3 weeks of shooting photos here and there (including a half-day trip to a state park in Palatka...hotter than balls and infested with mosquitoes), I dropped off my roll of film at Walgreens on *Saturday. With great excitement, I went to pick it up this morning only to be told that my roll was blank and that the photo tech had lost it. If your roll is blank, they are supposed to at least SHOW you it was blank. The manager offered me a free roll of film. Wow. That's redeeming. Realizing that an argument would be pointless, I left the store tearing up a bit.

*I should probably mention that when I dropped off my roll, there was a sign on the counter which informed customers that they were unable to process photos that day due to malfunctions with their machinery. It apologized for the inconvenience and promised that a technician would be out soon to repair it. The tool who took my roll (who I'm pretty sure was the culprit in f-ing up my film) was really nonchalant about it and said, "Yeah, I don't know, I just got here and they told me the machine is down."

So, after being angry what I've realized from this experience is my difficulty with letting go, especially when it comes to art and its process. It's the same type of feeling I had while in printmaking and graphic design courses at UNF. There is a certain point where you have to surrender to or accept the process and just let it run its course. With printmaking, there are so many variables; you can have a killer image, but if you inked your plate wrong or didn't wipe it correctly or the press isn't set at the right pressure, your print is going to turn out wrong. With graphic design, if the ink in the printer is off, all of your colors on the monitor will look nothing like what prints. And now, with photography, if someone messes up your film, that's it. Gone. Maybe this is why I'm attracted to painting and drawing: you have a little more control than other mediums. But it is just the illusion of control.

What I'm trying to say is, I need to let go. This explains a lot---this is why I've been all stopped up inside when it comes to art---this is why when I think about a portfolio for grad school, fuses in my brain short out---this is why I've painted over 4 different series that I've started over the past few months.

::sigh:: Serenity now.

Sketches: 06.16-06.20.2009

Here are some sketches from the past few days. Boy am I rusty on depicting the human figure. Yikes. I'll get there.

It feels incredible to be out sketching on site. It reminds me of being in Venice, Italy, sketching in restaurants and piazzas all day. I had forgotten how good it feels to use your sketchbook as a camera to capture an environment, people or no people.

Apologies for the crappy scanning job. And I thought I had cropped out the edges of my sketchbook. I'd also like to thank blogger for taking at least 8 minutes to upload each sketch.

Al's Pizza

Biscotti's

Cool Moose.



I had to get some bloodwork done the other morning. This sketch was done while sitting in the waiting room @ Quest Diagnostics; this was a very small room with about 40 chairs, uncomfortably close, facing a small television at the front of the room. They should have lined the perimeter of the room with chairs, and then put the remaining seats back-to-back in pods in the middle of the room. This is what goes through my head.

Starbucks in Riverside

Starbucks in Riverside

This is the same girl, two times. After the first sketch, I wanted one zoomed in bit more .

Starbucks in Riverside.

Responsibility

I've decided to make a schedule for the summer so that I don't sleep it away (very tempting).

Main Goals:
-create a solid portfolio for this fall's grad school application & work on my artist's statement
-yoga at least every other day
-continue and complete the P90X program (Uncle Pete, "I hate it, but I love it!)
-start training for a 5K
-re-visit some art criticism texts and critique some art shows
-travel somewhere (be it a day trip or longer)
-brainstorm ideas for the '09-'10 school year
*create assessments for each grade level
-take advantage of free Cummer admission to draw in the gardens/galleries
-learn new recipes & eat less crap

Daily routine should include:
-exercise (part of this needs to include Sam)
-sketching (from observation in public)
-painting
-writing (journaling, blogging, or whatever)
-reading
-cooking (I need to eat out less)
-drinking lots of water

There. It's in writing. Now I have to follow through.

Mistake: More than you ever wanted to know about the movie, "Waitress"

I saw this movie in the theatre when it came out a few years ago. Recently, I purchased a used copy of it at MovieStop thinking that I really enjoyed this film. After watching it last night, I remembered that I didn't think it was all that great in the first place. This movie could have been pretty cool, but it failed somewhat miserably. Why? There is an outstanding lack of motivation in the storyline & characters. The viewer is expected to just accept the characters' shortcomings, flaws, decisions, depressing situations, etc. without any background information. It's hard to have a relationship with the characters because of this. They are believable but only within the realm of the movie itself...it's virtually impossible to see them as being potential, real-life people. Now, if this was some fantasy movie, I'd be sympathetic, but it's not. Therefore it's troublesome that poor, little, waitress Jenna in a small town married to an awful excuse for a man is expected to be believable.

It's also difficult to see her relationship with her husband as believable. Earl, so incredibly selfish and needy, who scripts what Jenna should say and do to show affection, doesn't ever seem to pick up on her blatant sarcasm. Ever. Perhaps if they had given more background on how they met/why they got married/why they're still together, this wouldn't have seemed so out of place.

And then there's Jenna's relationship with her doctor. Again, there's no motivation for him to be having an affair with Jenna, other than physical attraction. But the movie tries to make his attraction to her more substantial than that. The portrayal of the doctor's wife gives the viewer no reason to dislike her or to see any reason why he's unhappy in his marriage.

Overall, this movie is unconvincing. While I like the idea, it simply doesn't read the way the director intended, perhaps.

Still, there are some things I adore about this film.

-the palette.

-the scenes that show her making pies or imagining new recipes.

-when she discovers how wonderful it feels to talk to someone who genuinely cares to listen.

-the moment she holds her daughter for the first time

That's it.