My desire to get out and be part of the world is partly successful and partly failing. I’m quickly learning that making friends out of strangers requires a great deal of effort even when you’re an easy going guy, comfortable talking about nearly anything with nearly anyone. So I’m dialing back on my ambitions on that due to the fact that I’m often burned out as it is and I can only stretch myself in so many directions. I’m also quickly learning that taking friends and putting them in new positions reveals an asston about them, about yourself, and about your relationships together. Also, I had a friend recently recruit me and my wife to meet her and a guy she liked and give them something to do and it was flattering that she asked and exciting as hell to hear afterwards that it went so well. They have a date today. I’m gonna text her tonight to see how it goes.
I always make sure to stay up to date on the maintenance of my car. Engine and fluids, suspension, tires, etc. etc. In other ways though, it’s slowly turning into a jalopy. The weather stripping on the driver’s side door needs to be replaced badly. The paint, being cheap and shitty Subaru paint, has touch up filled rock chips and swirls in the clear coat galore. A corner of the cabin dome light has come undone and pushing it back in only sometimes works and when it does, only works for a temporary period before it comes undone again. It’s been in three hailstorms in as many years and has the dimples to show that I would get fixed except A) there will be more hailstorms, B) it has the rock chips and door dings of a daily driver to go with the dimples, and C) it still looks good from 10 feet or more if you’re not in direct sunlight bobbing and weaving your head so you can spot the dimples. What I’m getting at is my car is in great shape where it counts, yet feels so far removed from “new” now that I love it more than ever. There’s a familiarity and comfort in the flaws that have transformed it from my “car” to “my car.” I haven’t felt this way about a car since my busted ass, unreliable, piece of shit, had to sell for $500 to make rent El Camino. I’m gonna drive this baby until the wheels fall off.
Yesterday, I drew a bear taking a shit. Dala told me I was obligated to draw the woods around it to answer the age old question, so I did. After drawing it all in, I colored it in with colored pencils, using two colors for every shape to give things unique colors and help simulate depth a bit. I walked away from it pretty happy. It wasn’t until I looked back at it, hours later when everything was drawn and colored in, that I realized four visible trees and a bunch of underbrush doesn’t really count as “woods.” Now I’m unhappy with it. I might end up redrawing it one day when I get bored.
A few days ago, drawing random shapes, I accidentally drew a flying crow in what could best be described as a bastardization of some kind of angular folk style art. It was a complete accident, a small little drawing barely the size of a quarter, but it’s been stuck in my mind ever since and I can’t recreate it to save my life. Last night, up with insomnia, I tried to redraw more crows in that style, only a bit more controlled, and came out with crap after crap after crap. They’re all eagles or some such shit, more refined, more robust, less sleek, less ugly, less visceral. The closest thing I got to matching it, I fucked up completely, so I had to turn it into a gnarled hand with a crooked finger pointing.
Art in General but Mostly an Observation on Word Choice
The rabbit hole that is Wikipedia/Wikimedia is a woefully inadequate replacement to going to the art museum. However, when it’s 2 in the morning and everyone else is asleep, it’s a wonderful way to kill some time. Last night I learned that cave paintings are actually a lot more sophisticated than what popular culture might lead you to believe. I also learned that the term “primitive art” is no longer an acceptable term, as it’s considered these days to be a eurocentric pejorative. Sometimes I wonder if we worry about words too much. Sometimes I wonder if we don’t worry about them enough. Often I find myself wondering why it’s so hard to figure out where the line is drawn on such seemingly benign statements, let alone who actually decides where that line is drawn. I’ve known all of this for over a decade, yet it still surprises me every time the issue arises. I feel equally insensitive and innocent in my ignorance and I also feel that maybe the issue on words is blown out of proportion on the internet, as I don’t think I’ve ever really had an instant in my non-internet life where such subjects were a concerning, long term issue. More often than not, it’d be “Hey, rd95, don’t use that word. Some people take offense to it,” to which I’d respond “Okay, I won’t” then go about living life feeling like nothing whole was broken and nothing that was broken was fixed but knowing there’s an overlooked subtly behind everything we do and say that affects the world around us so I should watch what I do and say.
I've spilled three mugs of coffee this year already. It's time to get a thermos to keep it in to not only cut back on spills, but keep it hotter for longer. Maybe something big, to save me trips to the coffee pot.
I look forward to seeing the results of mk's spam banning experiment.