"Your life is what you make of it."

I may have crossed a line with my inquisitive nature. I may have just found something very discouraging that leaves me in a greater state of uncertainty and thus may never sleep again. Or I may have a renewed motivation to take action with an intense aura of compassion.

My conscience, my inspiration, my life... I'm hanging on my last shred of hope.


I started making a list (again) of all my options, possibilities, and desires to determine my next step if yet another job falls through the cracks. With my truck returning to the garage, my bank account on its last month, and the plethora of bad news that burdens me like the weighted chains of Jacob Marley, even a good idea is hindered.

Honestly, I don't know what to do. I have to start somewhere though, and take that first step; that tiny meaningless step could make all the difference.

Life is without meaning. You bring meaning to it.

Carpe f*cking diem, baby!

It seemed like a good idea at the time. But as soon as I was given the green light, I got outta there. House/dog sitting was fine, just boring. The dogs slept all day, which made my job a lot easier.
Cubby - always in a whole other world.


Kasey - who follows you everywhere, and will rub her head against your legs like a cat.

I spent the majority of my week reading, switching locations periodically to liven things up a bit. I was excited that the family had a piano, thinking that I could still play like I used to. I banged out a few chords then attempted Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata (I taught myself how to play it before by listening to it without any music).

The charcoal pencils didn't work out too well either. I only finished one drawing of rotting wooden slats on the deck. I felt more inspired to write. In my Advanced Writing class we often did an exercise where the professor told us to start writing and not to stop until she said so. Just keep writing. It's kind of a "self-discovery" thing and is supposed to help with one's writing.

So what did I discover in rapidly jotting down every thought in a haphazard manner? Nothing I didn't already know. But it did give me reassurance - a motivational boost to jump in and take a chance. A chance on what you ask? Well, if there still is one, you better believe I'll be risking it.

Carpe fucking diem, baby!

Now that I'm back at the parent's house, I can finish a project I started before I left. I'm combining collage with ink again, recreating a beautiful dream I had and could never forget; a dream you hope to God it comes true.

Meet Virginia

View from the hotel

Applied to job Monday, received e-mail response Tuesday, interview Friday - and that's how it's done.

Before I left Thursday night, my dad discovered my truck's gas tank hanging by a rusty thread and leaking. I also realized I'm about a month and a half shy of being broke.

So with that in mind, I grabbed my business suit and drove a borrowed vehicle to Alexandria, Virginia.

The position encompasses writing, research, and the military with an international company that I would LOVE to work for. I'm excited. Seriously.

Although I won't hear back right away, I have been asked to house/dog sit for a family about 3 miles away, so I'll be living in someone else's house for the week. And I'm taking my charcoal pencils with me.

"Why ask useless questions? How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky? Who is John Galt?"

After spending a week baking in the sun on the beaches of North Carolina, summer has begun. And so has my "Summer Reading Challenge".

Every summer I try to read as many books as possible, trying to beat my previous record of 15.5 books in 3 months. It all began when academia took over my life and I was only reading books for class, and never for fun.

However, I've been out of school for over a year already, allowing ample time to read all the books I want, averaging a book a week. So the initial point of this challenge no longer exists. Unfortunately I didn't keep tabs on what I've been reading, so you could probably take any 3 consecutive months and find I've already far exceeded my standing record.

I've been thinking of doing this challenge anyway, making my first official book of summer Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged. Being over 1,000 pages, it is nearly 4 times the amount of my average summer reading books, which then leads me to more questions... Do I have to count this as one book? or can I divide it into 3 to make it more accurate to the basis for this challenge?
My god, am I really trying to find loopholes in my own damn challenge? That's sad. Perhaps I should have started a less controversial book, but I was suddenly anxious to read this one because it is set in a state of crisis, similar to our current economical situation; a dystopian world which adheres to a majority of my favorite books... besides there's talk of a movie.

"a smile fell in the grass"

So, I guess you can cross #1 off the list...


My former boss from Georgia, and one of the most delightful people you could ever meet, has um, shuffled off her mortal coil... and no I'm not okay. I'm almost thinking that if I was still there, I wouldn't have been able to handle this. I can barely hold myself together as it is. I recently considered calling her soon too. Rest in peace dear friend.

The skull tapestry is a mini scarf I found for 98 cents, btw.

I found this out right after picking up on my art projects again. I've been putting them off because previous inspiration has been thwarted, as always, but I can't give up (as always). I have finally finished the one with the collaged pants, where another mistake led to finger painting. I did the background by smearing ink with my finger, which I now realize was with my left hand. Then with my right hand I used the line method with the pen. It's dirty, and raw, and it's done. And check out that hair detail! I'm not showing the image in it's entirety because you have to experience it. Take in every detail, the rough edges, the harsh marks, the visible mistakes that make it what it is.

"There is a secret bond between slowness and memory, between speed and forgetting."

With no plans for the holiday weekend, it actually turned out pretty well. That's what I love about spontaneity; plans leave too much room for disappointment. Such as how a sudden power outage led to a campfire in the backyard. We were searching for marshmallows in the dark.


And I went to the Arts Fest in Harrisburg for the first time, despite all those years when I only lived 10 minutes from it. I was surprised by how many artists were there and from all ends of the country too. Impressive.

But it was crazy hot, and so many people were there we were shuttling down the street unable to really see all of the art. I've noticed this pattern happening a lot: I remember First Friday's in Philly, in a few of the galleries everyone magically gets in a lazy routine slowly waddling through, never really "looking" at anything. And if I stop at an eye-catching piece, the whole system is foiled and the people behind get annoyed. [Are you serious!?]

Anyway, it is interesting to see so many artists mass-producing their work, confident in selling it. I recently read an article in the newspaper about a local artist trying to make a living in this doomed economy. It takes so much to promote yourself as an artist and your work, but to successfully live off of it is a rarely achieved feat.

I never thought of a career like that since I only really make things for myself just because I want to draw something, or use my creative endeavors to jazz up a birthday card. It's more of a hobby I guess, which is why I decided not to major in Studio, and instead majored in everything else. :)

And look where that got me... but I have an idea. If nothing happens for me in the job market by the end of the summer, I will pursue one of three options:

1. Move south and get my old job back at the coffeehouse.
2. Travel abroad and teach English for 1 year.
3. Just pick a major already and go to Graduate school.

It won't be long before we find ourselves at the end of summer either...

"Why has the pleasure of slowness disappeared?"

it's all crazy ! it's all false ! it's all a dream ! it's alright

Summer is unofficially here! And I'm still officially unemployed. Words of advice: DO NOT agree to a phone interview. Trying to talk to 3 people on speaker phone is annoying and dumb. Before this disaster, I did have a great interview at an Art & Framing Gallery earlier last week. Although the position is part time, it would be perfect.

It is a small gallery in a historical, tourist town in the woods and it holds a variety of artwork of about 32 local artists. Most of the work I saw there was actually quite amazing. I distinctly remember a sculpture of twisted metal spikes pointing towards the ceiling, very cool botanical collages, and everything else from unique jewelery designs, abstract paintings, and of course landscapes. There is always someone who feels so inclined to paint landscapes... it's almost like a functioning gallery requirement. Gotta have landscapes.

I hate landscapes.

I also realized that I hate pencils. I haven't sketched with one in years, and after attempting to draw my aforementioned [and still unfinished] picture, I may never use them again. Using a pencil forces you to also use its convenient eraser, which for a perfectionist like me is not a good idea - it took me forever to sketch the damn thing. That's why I like pen & ink; the mark is permanent, so any "mistakes" are worked into the image. That's when your work really becomes your own.

I want this album. And you should too. Seriously, check them out and prepare to be transformed.