Wednesday, July 31, 2002
Hey, yeah, I know, I know. Sorry. I've been really tired lately, OK? I'm not used to waking up this early. So cut me some slack, OK? I'm talking to you, 3-4 regular readers of this here blog. Yes you. Quit the emails. I'm here and I'm blogging. Sheesh.
Er.... lately not much has been happening. I saw Austin Powers and it was very disappointing. It wasn't nearly as good as the last 2 were. The Goldmember character could have been much, much funnier than they made him; the jokes were, in some cases, fairly old and tired; some of the main characters seemed a little forced; and it dragged at bits. I mean, it was amusing at points, but I came away feeling very empty and unfulfilled, comedy-wise. Whatever, seems like everyone else I've talked to really liked it, so what do I know?
Wow, did you see that magnificent use of semicolons in the previous paragraph? Wow. Sometimes I amaze even myself with my unparalleled grammatical prowess.
The original story for the movie Bladerunner was written by Philip K. Dick. It was. There is no possible disputation of this fact. I could swear that Philip K. Dick is mentioned in the movie credits. He wrote the story Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? which is the exact story of the movie at parts. Philip K. Dick. Bladerunner. Arielle and I are going to have to watch the movie at some point and figure this out once and for all, 'cause otherwise it's just going to drive me nuts. Wacko. Insane. Etc.
Er-r-r-r-r-r-r-r....
I have a hard time imagining anything more boring than the 2002 Minor League Scouting Notebook. But this is what my brother reads. He won't read interesting books like Harry Potter or Catch 22 or anything else that's good. He instead diligently applies himself to a book of minor league baseball statistics. Insanity? Undoubtedly.
The clouds right now are light purple with salmon edges.
Today in Surreal Painting I had Hard Days Night by the Beatles stuck in my head. I have no idea why, since I haven't heard it in ages, but it was really very badly stuck in there. Of course, I was falling asleep into my oil paints at the same time, so the exhaustion and fumes may have contributed.
This utter lassitude was oversome when Arielle, Paula and I went down to the first floor to consume sugar and hang out in the school store. It's air conditioned on the first floor. Bastards. It is ungodly hot way up on the fifth floor, and the heady scents of oil paint and turpentine that linger leadenly in the air just make it worse. And the painting I am working on is one of those paintings that, the more you get done, the more depressed you get about the way that the painting is turning out. Very unfortunate. Yet, such is life, non?
Yesterday on the T I saw a girl with a baby. The baby was cute enough, I guess, as babies go. Personally I can't stand the little grubbers, but other people on the train were smiling indulgently at the nasty little thing, so I surmise that it must have been cute. Anyways. This girl looked like she was about my age. Maybe a few years older. This girl was probably still in high school. Waaaaaaaay too young for that baby. She was holding the baby in one arm and trying to silmultaneously apply lipstick and hang onto the pole with the other. It was sad.
It is not a good idea to say "Hi-YA!" or "Are you serious?" in MassArt. It is likely to earn you a very hard smack. This is the way of things.
Have you ever seen The Jeff Corwin Experience on Animal Planet? It's a good show, a little bit like The Crocodile Hunter, only more diverse and less annoying. It also has the immeasurable advantage of starring Jeff Corwin. Jeff Corwin is from Boston. He also happens to be rather attractive. Thus, an enjoyable program.
I wonder where everyone is? Where they aren't? What they are and are not doing? And other such things.
The model that we had today in 2D/3D Fundamentals was terrible. We were doing portraits, see. So the model didn't even have to keep particularily still, just so long as her face was still. That was all she had to do, keep her head and face fairly immobile. And, I mean, that's not so unreasonable a thing to ask for, is it? She's getting paid, for cat's sake, to sit still and be a model. So you would think that she would be able to sit still and be a proper model.
Alas, this was not the case. She could not keep her damned head in the same position for more than a few minutes. She kept on looking up at the ceiling or to either side, or twisting her neck around in wild contortions. She yawned, she chatted, she rolled her eyes, she grinned and grimaced and totally changed the position of her mouth at least 15 times, she puffed out her cheeks, she shifted around so that the lighting completely changed, and she generally made it impossible to do a proper drawing.
It was as though she didn't even realize that we were drawing her. I mean, cat damn it, woman, sit still and look at the same spot on the wall! Even I know that you do that to keep your eyes in the same place, and I'm not a freaking model! Choose one expression and stick with it! Don't shift around in the light! In short, don't move your catdamned head when you're a model for a class doing portraiture! Duh!!!!
Man, that just pissed me off.
Gettin' kinda dark. Get up and turn on the light. Sit here and wallow in my own laziness. Hmm. Decisions. I think I shall opt for wallowing right now.
I really hope that it's cooler out tomorrow.
Where in space is Carmen Sandiago? Huh? Huh? You gonna tell me or you gonna keep me hanging here all day?
There's a giant, bright blue, steel balloon dog in the MFA lobby. It is unspeakably cool.
I. Do. Not. Like. Anime.
And the people in my comic book art class who do kinda freak me out a little.
Can you say 'obsession'?
I can.
Mais, à l'autre main, Tintin! Ah! C'est une bonne bande dessinée! Hergé, oui, il est l'homme.
*big despondent Sigh*
Oh, well, that's long enough for now, right? Yeah. That oughta hold ya.
Till next time, then.
8:17 PM
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