Obular

Feb. 26th, 2014 04:42 pm
chantico: (Frazzled)
I got my ass kicked by work today. Hope the results are worth it. So many little watercolored rocks. So many. And my time outside of the brush was unfocused and generally unproductive in any way. Feeling pretty stymied in a lot of ways. Can't work on Light, waiting on a couple of other projects to give me the go ahead. UGGGGHHH WAITINGGGGG. I hate liminal states. Hate them!

Did *finally* get to listen to the Pacific Rim score. I tend to rate scores and movies separately, though a good score can way elevate a film for me, and a bad one sink it, but a great score can't save a shit film, only give it a nudge. Anyway, quite happy to find Pacific Rim's score to be one of the best I've heard in years, full of bombast and callbacks to old Kaiju films and thunder without being overwhelming or derivative. No Hans Zimmer effect here-- this is clearly a soundtrack for THIS movie, bespoke in all aspects. I am planning on using it as my playlist for Zombies, Run! when I get that set up.

Made up a word today because I could not think of any equivalent: obular. What does it mean? Any guesses? I like it.

My eyes are having a hard time focusing. Thinking tonight will be an evening of things that don't require staring at anything too close to my face.
chantico: (Alien)
Odd day. Couldn't shake myself off the net, even though there wasn't much for me to read or do. I am bored of the net but it beats be bored of drawing, which I am. Throuighly. Everyone goes through their career rough patches. I guess my inner child is stamping her foot, because I do not want to be drawing for anyone else but me. Just, no. I am flush with drawing excitment but it's all for my own stuff.

I kind of want to go to the gym tonight, but I kinda don't. Kinda wanna play videogames, kinda don't. Repeat ad nauseum for any activity. Boredom is stage one of depression and for once I'm happy to see it, because ti means I'm not in stage two like I was the past couple of months. Hurrah for going to the doctor and popping up my dosage.

I feel like there is nothing interesting to write, but . . . I know I'm thinking about lots of things. Like why, when i go home, it feels so anti-creative as a space that I am more likely to get painting done when sitting in my cubicle (short answer: I have no fucking idea). About my relationship with me mom and how much that has improved and how I am so happy about it. Thinking about friends, and loneliness, and some of the hard things about sustaining a healthy marriage when you have no one close but each other. About writing itself. Jesus. Writing. My Smaug in the mountain, my terrifying guardian at the gate. And all the stuff I'm turning over in my head about my art, and my career, and questions about just what one does when they've reached some form of career stability, their "goal" in life, and all the baggage that comes with reaching what you decided was your finish line when you were so wee and thought it would never come. My nihilistic crises.

But those take too much from me right now. So here is what I did today: I pushed through the No-I-Don-Wanna's to finish inking some lady's book about her dogs, start inking a scene that STILL baffles me as to it's perspective or logistics (but fuck it, I so do not care anymore because when the author gives you and impossible scenario, sometimes you just need to rely on style rather than logic), and revised another few drawings for other folks. I worked on The Map, finishing off the plains area, starting in on the southern reefs. The desert is all that's left after this, and a few spots in the mountains. Oh, and I laid down a very basic climate pattern. I listened to the Strokes "Room on Fire", which I am not overly impressed by, Death Cab For Cutie's "The Photo Album", which I like less that Narrow Stairs, and Dirty Projectors' "Swing Lo Magellan", which is much more impressive in it's creativity and sound, if about as emotionally engaging.

J's here, so no time for copy editing. I'm sure this post is full of typos and mess. Oh well.

Burp

Jul. 19th, 2013 09:09 am
chantico: (Exausted)
I was . . . not so productive this week.

Got really into developing fantasy cultures, ostensibly to inform my Oracle project, mostly for fun. And by cultures, I mean fashion and names. Developed a whole naming system, drew a bunch of examples of different castes. They may or may not ever been seen.

Have been keeping up with writing, mostly. Failed yesterday and fiddled with my outline instead.

Collected a four-figure debt from someone for artwork I did a long time ago, and used it to pay off several big standing debts. We're going to do it, guys. This month, we will *finally* be caught up on finances.

Now if I can just stop eating out, we'll be good.

Bitty Bits

May. 20th, 2013 09:14 am
chantico: (Motivated)
A TF2 fanfic-filled weekend and I'm charged for writing, or attempting to write again. I can't tell if I just suck at overcoming the anxiety hurdle or if it is really that high, but whatever the case, the languishing is over. Aside from the fic glut, I spent the weekend puttering on my music project, cleaning, and helping Jen start painting her new house. Ah, the stress of buying a new home. Just what I'm looking forward to. We get off easy on the moving and painting by living there already, I suppose, though I would love to redo the kitchen/laundry room/back room with a little extra loan. You know, when I have a credit score that will allow me a loan. My back didn't 100% cooperate, complaining near the end and ratcheting up the sciatica. It aches continuously now. I cannot wait to go to the chiropractor.

Also our car needs like 500 dollars in repairs. Ha. Hahaha. Ha. Oh, money.

But! I am determined to have a good week, because we are able to pay all of our bills this month and maybe have a tiny bit extra so I can finally get the phys. therapy tools I need for my back! Huzzuh! Also: Summer Movie Season is upon us and I am floppity excited for the line up. February, March, and April were bone-dry and since the cinema is my vice, I was jonesing.

Nothing else to report, I think.

Habitual

May. 17th, 2013 10:03 am
chantico: (Hungry)
Procrastinating on some of the paperwork I need to get through to get my fianancial burdens off my back. I know, I know. J was finally press-ganged into helping me with it last night-- and by helping, I mean he did it for me while I leaned on his shoulder and whimpered. Oh, anxiety.

I really need to find a new general practitioner in town and have a chat about my Zoloft. the effectiveness of my dose has been steadily decreasing (Or because of the financial bullshit, my anxiety is much higher). I need an adjustment.

Crikey, what else to write? Erm . . . I'm not having deep thought right now, just sort of trying to live. Reading books. Listening to music. Sitting outside, soaking up sun. Working very hard on learning to clean up after myself-- this essential skill is one I lack in it's entirety. All my work on being more cleanly has focused on making cleaning up a normal part of life, but not making a mess in the first place seems sensible. Normal habit is to use something, put it down, and then . . . just not think about it. Putting it away does not enter my head, and requires conscious monitoring.

Lord, the writing demons are really awful. They are constant and cruel. I will admit, they've derailed me again. I get sick with anxiety in front of The Book. Trying some fanfic on the side and, of course, writing more in here just to keep the words coming.

Eeee saying their name summons them!

*****

SOMETHING HAPPY. I am determined to write about it!

Music.

Is Awesome.

I'm catching up on some classics while exploring new bands. Joni Mitchell has been spending a lot of time on my iPod. She is a fabulous songwriter and epitomizes what I think of as folk music. It's fascinating to hear the tectonic shift in her voice from her youth to her later albums, with the jazz-experimental as a middle buffer. In contrast, the other band getting lots of play right now is Crosby and Nash, who are really cheesy in comparison; they try for the same sort of slice of life, political songwriter and it ends up hackneyed. But they're good background noise for when I'm Les Mis'd out.

New band wise, I've got a ton of stuff on the back burner, but I really have to give a shout out of Metric's "Synthetica". The lyrics and beats are complex, and behind the glittery electronic shoegaze sound there's a pulsing sense of the epic. Really happy with this album; it's my first of there's, and I think we're going to have a long and happy relationship.
chantico: (Cynical)
My worries right now: I am losing my cognitive abilities. My heart is malfunctioning and soon will give out. I am developing diabetes.

Sigh, anxiety. You function in the strangest of ways. IN the way of medical maladies I *might* actually have, I think it's a possibility that I've adjusted to my Zoloft, and I either need to tweak the dosage, try something else, or try a new med to pair it with. wonder if I don't have adult ADD-- and the problem with hypochondria is that you can never be sure if what you are feeling is in your head, or a real issue. Is my inability to focus for more than 20 minutes at a stretch due to being lazy, or is it a disorder? When I'm exhausted and full of cotton at the end of the day because I forced myself to focus on something and finish it, is that just run-of-the-mill willpower fatigue?

Not like I can really afford a doctor right now to find out. :/

***

Life moves along apace. Thank all the stars above the holidays are past. I know for all y'all, they start in November and in come January 1st, but I have four major birthdays spread out between there and Valentines Day. My poor non-existent wallet is full of non-existent moths (I own up to my own money irresponsibility contributing to this, of course).

Full up on freelance work and commission, though! So that helps.

Baked my dad a pseudo Black Forest Cake for his birthday and delivered it. I wish I could have a multi-locational house. Like, go out the front door, I'm on Kirkwood, go out the back door, I'm in the middle of nowhere. Driving on those scraggly little roads barred in by pale trees, deer warily grazing in the dark, fields shimmering in the light of a few stars and the half moon, I am soothed.

Want to get out into the woods more. If only leaving the house was an easier task, and didn't feel like a pulling out my fingernails.
chantico: (Default)
Financial troubles might be easing so my depression is too. Not counting those chickens before the hatch, though. j has yet to find a full time teaching gig somewhere and while we can survive with him getting substitute pay there is *no* wiggle room and no place to start building up savings. He's slowly going through his comics collection and using a website that helps evaluate worth based on current market and condition of the books, and even if we get half of what the estimated value is, that's a good chunk of the down payment on the house-- or survival money. It all depends on his job situation.

I should have gone out for Lotus this weekend, but getting myself to do anything when I'm not at work is hard right now. The depression isn't, like, weepy, nihilistic, I hate myself depression. I just don't want to do anything but fuss with my music project, play TF2 ,and read fanfic. I do get up to clean sometimes, so hey! And I went out Sunday and played bingo, because what the hell. I love bingo.

***

Every time I think the fandom bug has bitten me for the last time, another one comes along. JCA was my last fan freak out, and that was getting on 10 years ago, so I was pretty sure I'd grown out of it, but, oh, TF2, where did you come from? I love you! Writing ideas! Fan art ideas! Fanmix ideas (and have made a couple of those). Porn ideas! It's glorious.

****

Counted up my finished projects at work today: I have completed 44 books and covers since starting a year and change. Jeezum pete, no wonder I haven't had time for a lot of my own art! FORTY FOUR complete books, most of them at 10 illustrations a pop. That's a lot of drawing.
chantico: (Loved)
Like a race car in the mud, I have driven myself into a rut: posting only on LJ when I am unhappy. And, dammit, I am not that bad off! So i am determined to post something UPBEAT and POSITIVE. I don't want to look back on this journal in a couple of years and be like "Dude, wow, I was miserable."

THINGS THAT ARE SPLENDID:

I am doing Yoga once a week! I actually have got off my bum and I am going out and taking a moving class doing moving things! [livejournal.com profile] ancientwisdom recommended the Mukti Yoga studio in Bloomington, and it is affordable and enjoyable. I don't do the Vinyasa, which was too much movement and too much trying to keep up with folks, but I found a great balance in Kundalini style, which focuses a lot more on breathing, meditation, and bursts of (sometimes really intense) excercise. I *like* the more hippy-dippy stuff, dammit.

Having a roomate is kind of wonderful. That teeny bit 'o extra social interaction is great-- and he cleans the living room frequently and picks up after the cats. Win.

I HAD A PIECE IN A SHOW. *Word*. I am pushing to put other pieces, in other shows.

I am starting to meet other people who do art, and I am *talking* to them and EVERYTHING. The other day I spoke to 8. Different. Strangers. I am a small talk superhero!

Steve, my little tabby, loves playing fetch. All day. He has this tiny, dilapidated grey mousie toy that he will bring to me in his mouth and drop in my palm, and then will chase it down whever I throw it and bring it back. This is less amusing when he decides it is play time at 3 AM.

All my other cats are cute to the fourth power.

Mom doesn't have cancer! Mostly and sorta kinda! They took a look at her scans and declared her Mostly Cancer Free, i.e. she has, and I quote: "A little bit of lymphoma. We'll check back in a few years." She does have crazy Hep C, but very hopefully will be included in the new drug trial, which has an 80% success rate of curing as oppossed to the 40% that the current drugs have.

SHPONGLE IS PLAYING BLOOMINGTON. I have all the tickets. Or at least mine. GUYS YOU GUYS.

There is so much rain and thunderstorming and everything is explosively green and beautiful and pleasant in temperature.

There. Happy news.
chantico: (Chipper)
I have a timeline for finishing my current workload, and it is more than reasonable. I work better when I have a concrete idea of when stuff needs to be finished-- I know when I will be freaking out and scrambling, when I can back down and clear my plate for other work, and when I can look forward to showing off what's all been done.

Today is a low-art day-- I'm finishing up a quick piece and otherwise cleaning my house and getting my workspace in order so that I can really press over the next three days. On saturday I have a break, which I'm filling with lifedrawing (at long last!) and horseback riding. I'm really excited about both. it's been about two years since I went to a lifedrawing session, and I know I'm rusty as hell; I can't wait to get back on track. The horseback riding will be wonderful; the ranch I'm looking at is pricy, but you lease the horses and free ride with them. Moving at my own pace through the woods, just as spring is bursting . . . sounds like just the thing to keep the creative juices.

Thanks to everyone who reccommended the Couch to 5k plan. On Monday, both [livejournal.com profile] deadmanwade and I start. Both excited ans scared. Next week is going to be a very long, work filled, and *sore* week. But it should be worth it. By mid-May, I'll be at my running goal.

Good news on the mental health front, but that's a lot more involved than befits a quick LJ post. Maybe in a day or two, after some more reflection, I'll get to writing up something longer on that. Or not.
chantico: (Restless)
I have been so very busy, and yet cannot show off any of it. On one hand, this is excellent; it means I am either doing Real Work that is under contract or have been too busy with said Real Work to post or work on anything of my own; on the other, well . . . no work of my own.

Other than work, art and otherwise, life has been pretty excruciatingly boring and grey. I am prepping my garden for an influx of snow peas and spinach seeds (we'll see if I actually get them in the ground this year). Mostly I want flowers, but it is too early to put in any of those. So spinach and snow peas it is, and those should be gone by the time I'm planting pretty things that I don't have to pay much attention to. I hope my Morning Glowires come back; they did last year, which surprised me. Morning Glories are absolutely my favorite flower, especially the blue ones. MOrning Glory blue is the perfect blue.

Um, what else . . . sending out wedding invitations, still; I'm so close to being done! Then comes the planning for the ceremony (i.e. picking out music). I'm not allowed to do anything to plan the parties, which is driving me a little nuts-- OMG, I'm not in contorl, something could go wrong! Fucking weddings, man.

Uh.

Very anti-social, unless it's in my house.

Yeah.

That's all. So boring, it hurts.
chantico: (Motivated)
This is the first day that I have been able to finish everything on my not unsubstantial to-do list since, like . . . I can't remember when. Summer, maybe? I finished a drawing, worked on a painting, wrote 500 words, did 4 1/2 hours at my day job, made plans for my Superbowl shindig, cleaned up a little, and finished/prepped my wedding invitations, so that I can get them to the printers tommorrow. And while sticking, mostly, to my new diet. Hurrah! This does not sound like an amazing amount of work, but for me and my attention span, it is a herculean effort and a good omen to fall on Imbolc eve.

Speaking of Imbolc, my most treasured of pagan holidays, I am spending it mostly working again, (which is one of the better things I could do with it) but before I go to bed I will be spending some time settled in my room, with all my little lights on, giving a whole hell of a lot of thanks for the fact that this winter has been a demure foe so far. I have spent only a scant few hours laying on the misery couch upstairs, as opposed to entire days. I am managing my schedule so that I am not too overbooked, so that I have play time, so that I get done what I need to. The weather helps. We have had a surprising amount of snow, and a little sun as of late, plus plenty of cold. See, I don't mind winter so much when it acts like fucking winter-- it's the mud-and-rain-and-monotone for weeks and weeks on end that drives me insane.

This is, like, seriously kind of unbeliveable.

This weekend is pretty packed-- Saturday I'm driving down to Louisville to visit my sister, who is competing in a hair show; this is totally fucking awesome for her and also happens to fall on her birthday. Plus, I like the idea of sitting next to a catwalk, program primly in hand. I will have to choose carefully what I wear. On Sunday I will attend a wedding then fling myself directly from there to home, where there will be a quick change from pretty dress to Colts temorary tattoos for the Foosballs.

This schedule does not afford a ton of time to tackle the ever important To Do List, but I think a huge weight will be lifted off my mind come friday when I get to finally stuff me some wedding invitations. Assuming I have them back by then, of course. And then it's on to fun stuff for the wedding, like picking out a bathing suit, figuring out what I'm going to do on the cruise, coordinating colors and bridal party wear. Also, PICKING MUSIC *frothing delight*

All in all, good stuff.
chantico: (Okay)
We have a hawk or falcon coming by for visits in the trees behind our house. He's pretty magnificent; grey plumage, spotted chest, maybe 2-3 feet tall. Next time he comes by, I'm going to try and take a picture of him. Mostly what he does is perch up on the bigger branches to rend his prey. I'm not sure if I should fill my birdfeeder, as I would feel rather like I was tricking all the pretty birdies into showing up at a buffet simply to *be* a buffet. We saw him there eating something, but realized it wasn't a fluke when a couple of days agao, he dropped a pigeon head and torso on out back porch. A friendly gift from a neighbor, perhaps.

That cats, of course, are not outside, though Steve keeps peering out the window and meowing, giving us that look like "Mom mom mom let me out mom I can take him, I can take him moooooom!"

Dealing well with Winter this year, at least so far. Mid january is really when it goes all to hell (and to be fair, today was a bad day for crushing anxiety and the desire to set the world aflame.)

NSFW Art )

And to reiterate, I'm also trying to help out at [livejournal.com profile] help_haiti by offering three commissions for auction, so head over there and bid if you want to give money and recieve something cool in return. Even if art isn't your thing, there's plenty of other awesomeness at the community, from jewelry to writings. Go forth and help.
chantico: (Bizarre)
I am in Chicago Land being a good Maid of Honor and learning to navigate the strange, otherwordly driving that is the endless suburbs. What a foriegn place. I'm enjoying getting the tours around the southside, especially the areas that are actually up closer to the city proper. Lots of very proud Irish and friendly people, and pretty houses. I can understand the appeal of a place so closely knit, tied together by traditon and family for generations. It's a glittering prospect for someone trying to find a tribe-- you have a place, and a family, and evryone knows who you are an what you're up to.

I could never, ever live there. Living in such close emotional proximity to so many would drive me crazy. I don't place the importance on blood ties that living in neighborhood like the south side seems to require, and frankly, I don't think I could stand the racism and cloistered xenophobia of people who have never had to press their boundries of comfort to find those to care about them (I am generalizing, of course; I also recognize the irony as everything I'm writing is essentially about how foriegn that lifestyle is and how uncomfortable it would make me).

Mostly what we're doing up here is wedding stuff, wedding stuff, wedding stuff. We've met with the baker and the florist and called the limo company and looked into the location and planned the chair arrangements and tommorrow, there will be TWO showers, and, and, and . . .
this all further convinces me that in no uncertain terms, no way, no how, no shape and no form will my wedding be like this. Oh, I get that it will still drive me nuts, that I will still be foaming at the mouth by the end of the process, but the idea of relaxing on a boat for 4 days and letting my paid consultants take care of all those silly details is temptation too delectable to deny-- cranky mother and aunts be damned.

In other news, I have A Fabulous Hat (omgomgomg it is big and white and has a ribbon), I miss my Coconut, and HGTV makes me stupidly happy and ready to do spring cleaning.
chantico: (Lethargic)
Fall finally seems to be meandering it's way into Bloomington, and I'm delighted. This is my favorite time of year on mnay counts: I love Halloween, the cooler weather is a great boon, the autumn colors, and, of course, the fashion. Fall is th time of year I get to pair my short skirts with my cute jackets and tights, scarves with peep-toe pumps, boots and jeans; when I can wear my hair up, down, in a ponytail; and when the swishiness of long skirts echo the windswept leaves. I am ignoring the fact that popular fashion includes so many ridiculous 80's silhouettes this year. Also, tiny vests: could be cool if they didn't cut curvy girls off at the waists and give the distinct impression that they been ravaged by a deranged seamstress.

There has been lots of art. Some of it can be seen here, here and here, if you wish. There's been the general weirdness of being out of school when everyone else is returning, though less of that than I thought there would be.

Also, I appear to have secured a job that A. pays my bills and then some, B. Doesn't interfere with art time, C. does not include me leaving the house. I am pleased with this development.
chantico: (Weak)
July slithered by, I swear to god. It was just the beginning of the month, like, two days ago, and now I've got overdraft fees because I blinked and August is almost here. Bills, like time, are slippery things.

This ate a lot of my time, what with my love of nitpicky details. I'm not exuberently proud of it, but I *am* proud of what it represents: My first piece of art for a gaming book, with contract and EVRYTHING. (I am allowed to display it-- see, see, I have to worry about copyright! Squee!) It's for Silvervine games, a start up company run by some really, really cool guys whom I know through Impossible Dream. I am going to be doing a bunch of landscape and scenery art for them, which is *fantastic*, because that's a place where my portfolio really needs to grow.

Outside of that, life is mrrrr. I have a garden that has so far produced two peppers, lots of herbs, and two tiny, shriveled green beans, but the tomatoes are finally showing up, and the Marigolds are exploding. it smells really good, too. I have not so much been out of the house this summer, which is a shame, because I'd like to be out in the woods more-- but art has a tendency to eat your life, and inertia keeps me in front of the TV or computer when I've finally worn my fingers out. I also haven't been swimming once, but that has a lot more to do with embarrassment over my wobbly thighs than anything else.

Thursday, I leave for two weeks for a trip, and then Gen Con. In the mean time, I have dishes to wash, laundry to do, and motivation for both to ferret out.

Life

May. 30th, 2008 09:31 pm
chantico: (Poetic)
Every time I contemplating posting something to LJ, my attention span skitters off under the desk, and I become enraptured by news sites and Jezebel.com and a plethora of other things that usually, I don't want to or shouldn't read anyway because they just leave me upset. I need to take a break from the bad internets, and start putting my time into far more creative things-- like updating my livejournal. Hey, at least it's *some* writing.

Life has been good in a quietly productive way over the past couple of weeks. I do my best work on days where I wake up at 9:30 and putter until 10, which seems to be the time of day my body wants to wake up, bedtime be damned. Any earlier than that (the stray day where I awake at 6 AM aside), and I am non functional until, hey, 9:30, at which point I perk right up. I don't know *what* I'm going to do when I get a real job.

The two things I'm most proud of finishing are the long overdue Baroness Elenore Elise picture #2, which can be seen here, and a fanfiction which has been sitting unfinished on my hard drive for probably five years: Winter's City, the sequel (and finale) to the Enforcer-angst series I wrote ages past.

Other than that, I get up, I draw, I clean, I watch DVDs and sometimes I go outside. I spent a great Wednesday at my Dad's little plot of land, which was rejuvenating in the way that only the country can be. There is a certain vitality to the city, but once I come to the place where the fields outnumber the houses, my heart sings in recognition and my breathing becomes easier. I miss hearing whippoorwills, and listening to nothing but the soft rustle of leaves caressing each other. I'm also *aching* for a good storm.

In other aching news, we've acquired Wii Fit, and it is kicking my *ass*. My back and arms were so sore two days ago that I apparently woke [livejournal.com profile] deadmanwade up everytime I rolled over in bed by yelping in pain. I don't remember this at all of course; there is no sleep as deep as one where your muscles are healing. I haven't dropped a pound, nor do I see a difference, but goddamn can I feel it-- and since I'm running the equivelent of 2 miles every day, along with push-ups, sit-ups and hula-hoop madness, I know something is going to change. I'm 10 pounds away from my goal of 145, which is annoying because a month ago I was 4 pounds away from that. Then descended upon me the glory of graduation, and cake, and no longer being stuck on campus with nothing to eat.

Eating! Eating is good, and I've been good about it. There have been too many Baked! cookies in my diet, and maybe a little too much ice cream-- but there has also been lots of fruit and cottage cheese and wheat bread and whole grain pasta and other wholesome things. I like having applesauce instead of candy for a snack-- my body feels so much better.

On the downside of health stuff, I've been suffering from dry-air nosebleeds: 10 in the past two weeks of the wow-I-can't-get-to-the-bathroom-before-I-look-like-a-trauma-patient variety. They subsided with a humidifier, but humidifiers give me horrible sore throats, so I'm sticking to the nosebleeds for now-- at least they look totally cool. Doesn't help my anemia at all, of course, but I have attacked that in the past couple days by having STEAK, of the little Zagreb variety. Oh em geeeeeeeeeee . . .

That's about it. I should have some new art soon, and as always, there is My Name is Might Have Been. (which recently was discovered by the guys at Harmonix, who seem to love it).
chantico: (Amused)
My state right now is: confused, tremulous, tentative, but ready. Steeled would be a good word for it, I guess, whether or not steeled is what I should be. I cannot believe that I graduate in about a month's time-- such an important date.

I have this problem with focusing my attention on things in the future. I started to write about graduation, and all of my fears, doubts, and looming responsibilities pinned me. I cannot get words out when my mind is entombed by all of the Things I Need To Do. The future is my nerosis. I have an endless list of tasks to accomplish, so endless that any events in my life simply become a checkmark in the records, reduced to an 'accomplishment' without any emotional impact.

Sparing your Friend's Page )
chantico: (Job)
I got the awesomest fucking book today. It's something like 200 pages of 1 inch portraits of people. Making faces. It is the best resource I have ever seen for human expressions. I AM ALL OVER THAT SHIT.

Man, my art's been giving me the run around as of late. I am not happy with it at all . . . I think I'm at one of the those points where the Circle of Life renews itself, and by Circle of Life I mean Circle of Artistic Eurekas Followed By Long Slide into Frustration and Despair. I believe I am approaching an ah-HA moment, or at least hope so. I feel like I need to pick up my skecthbook and do some life drawing again, but that requires me setting aside time to wander and draw. This is harder than it sounds. I'm still trying to finish cleaning my room.

Time is one of those things that I have such a bizzare relationship with as of late. I keep examining it, and in turn find it looking back at me curiously, as if I shined a flashlight under the couch and found all the the dustbunnies staring back. "What?" Time asks, blinking. "I'm just following your lead." At which point, bewildered, I take a look at the ri-cock-ulous amount of stuff I am trying to do all of the time and berating myself for not finishing and pushing myself harder to get done. Then I sigh, and facepalm, and ruefully acknowledge the fact that my life only seems like it's speeding up because I am.

This usually just leads to crankiness, because I have NO IDEA how to slow down.

That's one facet of my intimate partneship with time. The other has a lot more to do with the invetiable craushing force of the future bearing down on me, ready to suck all happiness and life from my weakening form and leaving my a dried up old Adult. Usually, it partners with the Job Market to reduce me to fits.

I miss being 8. :(
chantico: (Fidgety)
God, sunlight. I missed you.

Today I am . . . not nervous per se, but . . . I lied, I am nervous. Maybe not outright so, but I feel a little dogged, like there's a shadow right behind my left shoulder that keeps disappearing as I try to look at it. So many things seem like they could go wrong at any moment, like everything I tread on and touch is made of glass. I feel off, and strange. I am concerned with things that I shouldn't even be concerned about, or worse, that are not things that are even MINE to be concerned about.

Feh. I'm just glad I have five minutes down time to write something before I have to run off to work. Second oral exam was perfectly fine. Pleased this week is almost over. Looking forward, sadly, to a chance to clean the kitchen.

I always sit down with the intention to write something interesting, but then find I don't want to talk about it.
chantico: (Spazzy)
Last night we were awakened at 6 AM by an unholy noise. It was something incredibly loud, but didn't sound AT ALL like thunder-- it didn't have the timber, the rumble or the crack that would hve preceded a peal of thunder that noisy. The rattle could have been the windows shaking, it was seriously that deafening. We weren't the only ones that heard it-- the neighbors did, too. [livejournal.com profile] moonartemis76 conjectures that it sounded like a transformer exploding, but there are no repair trucks or power outages today. [livejournal.com profile] deadmanwade thinks it might have been a dumnpster the slipped when people were unloading it in the apartment complex right behind us, but the noisy was less a clatter and more an explosions. Quite honestly, it sounded like I was standing next to a giant furnace with something direly wrong with it . . . at least, that's what it conjured in my dream right before it woke me up. THE MYSTERY CONTINUES. Any theories?

EDIT: THE MYSTERY NO LONGER CONTINUES. Witnesses saw the lightning flash. It *was* thunder, just . . . very, very weird thunder.

In other vaguely related news, my war with my dreams over lucidity rights continues, with a key battle won in my favor. Those who know me and my struggle with this are aware that lucid dreaming is incredibly difficult for me-- not because I am not aware of my dreaming state, but because my dreams HATE ME. Or, at least, they fight back viciously, and usually the incredible force of will it takes to enforce my vision on the dreamstuffs turns into actual physical force and I wake myself up with every muscle in my body straining. I have read that one of the tricks to getting yourself to have more control is to try an look at your hands when you dream, and I've been attempting this for some time now. Mostly, I usually just forget to try once I'm aware that I'm dreaming. However! Last night, I actually remembered, and forced myself to look at my hands. They were warping in a surreal way, but also far more detailed than most of the dream-- I could see the lines in my palm and the like. The most interesting part was that, as soon as I focused on them, I realized that they were ridiculously stiff, and I couldn't open them fully; almost like they were arthritic or frozen from lack of use.

Of course, in typical fashion, I expended so much energy trying to open them I woke myself up. But it is a step!

I have stupid amounts of homework to do. Perhaps, today, there will be tea. It seems like a tea day.

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chantico

May 2014

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