A bit of new, a bit of old

Oh god.. too many months have gone by, I blame the lack of a proper sketchbook and a desk constantly covered with crap piled up 10 inches tall. I feel like I've said that before.

In other news, Weezer makes me feel like I've just received a gentle punch to the sternum, and all of the classes I want to take are already full.

You accept? I accept!

I've been accepted! I am returning to school next fall to draw, paint, edit, do it all.

The Vault

At the time of this final drawing project, I had an incredible pull to spray paint halos over female models/celebrities in Vogue magazines and to carefully cut out their eyes. Sometimes I cut out their faces entirely and pasted them onto drawn bodies of the cuckoo bird which build their nests by stealing it from other birds and ruthlessly throwing out its containing eggs. Then I just had to hand draw renaissance nudes wearing string bikinis and butterfly tattoos. At the time of this project, I had no idea why I was doing this, but looking back I can finally understand..

A slipped disk

and a dislocated wrist, are better than a kiss with a fist ( ).

Invisible Bruises

Ah.. so much bull crap and such horrible tragedies. It's more than I can handle. These natural disasters feel so unnatural and wrong. I thought randomly reworking an old sketch would make me feel better, but it hasn't.

Violet

Sewed 3/4 of a thin wool longcoat, feel jubilant because of it.

Grow an extra pair of arms

It's done, no turning back. Last week I submitted my portfolio to the Studio Art program, I don't care if that'll make me a onceagain undergrad, it is going to be totally bitchin'. I paid a good hunka application money out of my own pocket and from now on I am solely responsible for my degree's expenses. How will it all turnout? Will she crumble under the pressure? Drop out? Shine shoes instead?! Who knows, all I know is, this life isn't working for me, and it really isn't working for me. Way too much hate going around.