8 days worth of things.

I don’t consider myself a compulsive blogger, but on the other hand, it’s like checking the mail, it’s just something I feel obligated to do every day even when I know for a fact that Thursday is junk mail day. That said, I refrain from telling you how often I brush my teeth, or how there were maggots in my kitchen compost bin. I try; TRY to keep it roughly centered on art and the next concentric circle or two out from that, but sometimes I wonder how many posts about picking up a paintbrush and gushing about how much I love my new work people care to read about.

Today:
Today is the next to last day of the intensive drawing session. Their final project is a modern day vanitas or self-portrait using meaningful objects. The students that did their research felt that vanitas were really depressing. I felt it rather depressing that for 90% of my class, iPods were meaningful. Actually the depressing part was that technology is so cold and yet they were trying to represent their love of music or family by using technological things. (Note: STBX had my 2nd gen iPod etched with a few lines of our marriage vows, so I’m able to comprehend a connection between sentimentality and technology, lest you think I’m a some kind of Luddite.)

Yesterday:
I called my mom (affectionately referred to as Maryadd Sr.) to wish her a Happy Birthday. 86 years on this planet. She'd kill me if she knew I publicized that.

Showed up a couple hours early to begin grading portfolios before class. Forgot to bring sweater. The tuner or amp is finally shot to hell- every station was static. I played Stan Getz, Boards of Canada and Calexico on my laptop. Came home, made pasta with sundried tomatoes. No movies at home, too tired to read, decided to turn on TV. Can’t believe I’m going to say this in public, I stared at The Bachelorette. I spent most of the time noticing the guy’s shoes. Thank God she picked the guy who wore black shoes. The guy who wore white shoes would have cheated on her. I’m certain. Note to the pointy brown shoe guy- sorry, dude, but nice abs do not make up for pointy brown shoes. I felt they milked the sunset filter just a bit much and I couldn’t believe the dialogue for the entire show was various renditions of, “I have to make a decision. I really love him/her. I think I’ve made the right decision. This is so hard.” Went to bed early. Decided that a television set could replace a skull in a vanitas still life.

Monday.
Went in early for office hours. Being the last week of school, I'm slightly concerned about job/teaching situation and the bigger picture of job searching and where to focus my energy for freelance or perma-part-time work. Saw message on cell phone from Kristi and heard that I may have sold a painting. Felt somewhat better. Had dinner with a friend at my new favorite and way too convenient dining spot, Green Peas. Stayed up late.

Sunday:
Attended opening of group show at The Attic, a new space in the attic of an artist, Cherie Benner Davis' home. I knew several people in the show. Nice show. For some reason, several people kept assuming I was in the show. It was nice to run into people I knew. Since I don't get out much, I'm always amazed that when I do go out, I usually run into people I know. Maybe there's a mathematical theory for this phenomena. Lovely digs and studio space filled with natrual light. I’m wondering what effect working in natural light would have on my work.

Saturday, Friday, Thursday and Wednesday: Bunch of paper, office work. Sometime in here, I had my motorcycle seat reupholstered and stopped by Kinkead Contemporary to have a portrait taken of the motorcycle and me by Heather Cantrell. I'm going to order a small one for my mom for her birthday. It's what every mother needs- a art-house portrait of their daughter posed on a motorcycle. The small ones are an edition of 10 and are priced at $100.*
* I think this is what the small photographs are going for. I can't get over there to purchase until the weekend, so not 100% positive yet.

I painted during this time, but like I said, I'm feeling a little self-conscious about droning on about the act of painting right now. Maybe later.