friday


Minerva, fifth of my Mythological series

my dreams are bound together with waxed sail thread, glue stick and cello tape.

Once again, today was beautiful, sunny and breezy. tonight is cool and clammy. the clamminess is a minor nuisance compared to a normal NYC summer in which it is hot and unbearably humid. this summer’s weather has been downright friendly. wow that’s a lot of words devoted to weather. but it really has been swell for the past month.
(swell.) ha!

one of the nuisance factors regarding the clam being the length of time my second layer of primer is taking to dry on a newly-stretched canvas. I ran out of gesso and resorted to the bone white latex which i bought to cover up the “Lunatic” on the wall. Previously the Wall of Forks. Yes, that’s right– the wall is no longer of Forks. It will now hold the series of Grotesques™ until it’s time to show them. (all other walls are quite covered) That’s what the new canvas is for- number five in the series: the Patron Saint of Hoodies. Anyway, I need to go back to Blick™ and get some canvas pliers, gesso, and spray varnish. (perhaps Elijah™ will be there to hold the door again.)

how’s my random capitalization? When I forget to unplug the camera from the computer it stays on and drains itself of life. such a pessimistic thing. nearing time to get together with my Third Brain™ travel mates and buy our non-refundable tickets for our next trip. I believe we have decided to fly into Heathrow after all; Anders will try to plan a reading somewhere in London.

Let’s see… anything interesting from recent dreams?
:: checking text files ::

tidbits:
“the other [roommate] gave the impression of someone who might be mean to animals when no one was around, but also a bit of a looker.”

“beth had made me this tiny sort of book with a bunch of strange metal things in. there were some cool weird blades that came in sleeves with clear top and foil backing, plus some very tiny chairs that fit into a little tiny paper room that was one of the pages.” (damn. i want that book. beth, make the book!)

“my mother cheered the shabby blank walls by hanging bolts of colored fabric and paper, but most of what she had involved a repeated picture of a doll or a face, and the result was somewhat unsettling until we got used to not seeing it.”

“he asked odd questions which made it clear he hadn’t any idea what was going on, but was trying to appear cool about it. i left the answering to our shrewd Puck and tried to enjoy the misleading answers he gave. some of the glitter was coming off, and i wasn’t at all sure i could navigate using my available stars after all.”

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