Slugs

I'm in a good mood today. I went out and bought some flavours I haven't tasted in years; real genuine bubblegum and some of that pina colada Sobe I loved so dearly when I was younger. I briefly considered doing something outrageous. I wanted to reinvent myself, get some turquoise and pink eyeshadow, bleach out my hair and get it cut with a razor. But I decided against it. There are some people who fit noticeability, and I am not one of them. People like that are stuck up if they don't talk to anyone. As I am now, I'm just shy.

I'm still undecided about Summerstock. A lot of the time I feel like I don't fit in with the created drama and complicated undertones that seem to come with being a stocker; a female stocker in particular. I'm tired of talking about the same things (oh I wish I had a boyfriend, Jim is being unfair, everything's going to be different this year, etc.) with people I don't really like being around. There are still great people in Summerstock, but most of them are in lead roles and I'm friends enough to do other things with them anyway. Then again, I felt this way at the beginning of last year, too. Maybe it's just a phase I'll get over. Who the crap knows?

No son of mine calls me a hog farm

That's what my mom said. After smacking Jordan for calling her a hog farm.

So, exciting news. Barb's ex-husband has potentially hired me on to do some commission work. 60 to 80 cartoons by the end of February. Problem is, I'm supposed to send him in some samples today so he can see if my "style" is anything close to what he wants. I have not yet started said samples.

I think I might be afraid of success, or at least doing something with what I've got. I knew about this potential commission for at least a week before I phoned him, and now I'm stalling again. I wonder if I really want to get myself into this, but I can't really see a clear downside. I'll be drawing again, which I love, I'll be getting my work out there, I'll be challenging myself, and if the samples are accepted, I'll get paid. I won't have to be working for him/them for long, only till the end of next month. There is nothing to be afraid of, but I'm still hesitant, still stalling, and it might already be too late.

When I was 9, I could have been in a real stage play with real teenagers and twentysomethings, put on by One Yellow Rabbit or some such company. But I hesitated, and I faltered, and eventually turned down the offer.I really wanted to be on stage, I wanted to act, but I had a fear of being seen. I was afraid of being out there and being noticed. I thought it was too soon. I'm too young for this. Maybe in a few more years. A few years later and here I am, still afraid of being out in the open, still telling myself I'm too young. Every time I get closer to being a real "artist," I hesitate and take a few steps back. This anonymity is where I'm comfortable; it's where I've settled all my life.

This blog is getting pretty depressive. I'm sorry about that.

I went over to Liam's the other day, which was good. Though I mostly hung out with his little brother, which in retrospect seems pretty rude/wierd. And I finally got to see The Great Dictator, which was pretty awesome. I found out later that Charlie Chaplin was 51 when he did that movie. Fifty-one! That kind of surprised me. He was still just as quick and sprightly as ever. We also watched some Arrested Development, which made me further fall in love with that show. How could something so stunningly hilarious be cancelled so swiftly? Though I guess it's better for something to be nipped in the bud and be fondly remembered than to drag on and on, getting worse and worse until the letters come streaming in pleading for cancellation.

That's it, gotta catch a bus.

s'long, fellas and fillies.
(thanks wulf)

26 posts

That's the first thing I saw when I signed in. I guess I talk more than I give myself credit for.

I saw Arrested Development for the second time and I think I've found a new Favourite Show, at least for the time being. I'm so glad CBC started showing it. That was a wise decision on their part.

I had to clean blood off the wall of the shop this morning. I guess no one else had noticed it when they walked in, or just assumed it was ketchup and went merrily along their way. There was something terribly tragic about scrubbing someone else's blood off the wall, like it was never there in the first place. There could have been a fight, or a beating; somebody could have been seriously hurt. But for the sake of our customers, the evidence had to be erased. Nobody wants to go into a cafe with blood on the wall.

Pathos

There was a time, long ago, when I swore to update this blog every day. There were also times when I swore to talk to someone new every day, practise my guitar every day, write every day, and read a chapter of whatever book I was reading every day. Now I've decided to draw every day, and boy howdy is it frustrating. I've avoided life drawing for so long I've forgotten how to do it. After about 10 or 20 minutes, the same thing happens. I realise that everything I've drawn so far is wrong, and I just give up. There's no chance of going forward and there's no chance of going back and correcting what I've done. So I just sigh heavily and try drawing something else. It actually surprises me how depressing my "passion" can be. My years of settling with mediocrity, of sticking with what I'm good at and not even trying to go any further, have finally come back to bite me in the butt. Just a few more days...if I make it over the hump, it'll be clear sailing from here on out.

Speaking of mediocrity, I've come to the realisation that I can't deal with customers. If somebody comes to me with a complaint like "you only put one slice of meat on this sandwich?" or "I ordered a small. This is too small," or "what do you mean you can't take my hundred dollar bill? Money is money," I just smile and agree with them and make myself seem incompetent. I can never assert myself or solve problems or give anyone the right information. I can't direct people to the complaints box when they're blind with rage, or give a straight answer to a simple question. "I don't know" has become my mantra, and one of these days it's going to get me into trouble.

I'm in a whiny mood today, fellas.

That Andy Capp is funny.

He reminds me of my uncle before he went to prison.

So I had my first class at ACAD today and it was certainly not what I expected. I walked into a grey room with grey floors and an enormous grey block kind of left of centre. Around the block, in a sort-of circle, were what looked like small benches with a short board at the back and a tall one at the front, and two slats in between. There were maybe 10 or 15 people in the room, all straddling their benches, all reading the same sheet quietly. It was only after about 20 minutes that the instructor came in. His name was Mark Mullin, and he was the spitting image of Greg Kinnear. He talked for a while, mostly reading the sheet we all got aloud, then took us into the still life room to get ready for our first project. Each student got to take something out of the room; a plastic deer, a skull, a fisher-price telephone, children's chairs, a rocking horse, a sculpted head on a stick, a broken mannequin, a driftwood stump, etc. We set them up on the enormous grey block and got to working. Draw it with varying line weight, he said. Crap. When I was done, it looked like I'd been drawing with my eyes closed. Everyone else did super. It's very humbling to be in a class where you're probably the youngest student, and by far the least experienced. I had to keep reminding myself that these were art students; they weren't just doing this to fill an extra time slot. They were all terribly talented and passionate about their craft, and would probably want to keep doing this for the rest of their life. I just hope I improve before the end of the term.

Bloody pigeons

I totally finished applying online for ACAD. Now all I have to do is send in all my high school transcripts and hope that everything gets through on time.

Today has sort of turned into my "do everything" day. I think after months of being inactive, the "work" switch in my brain was miraculously turned on, if only for a short while. I finally practised my audition song (and by "practised" I mean "played the music so loud I couldn't hear myself and whispered the words in a reedy warble into my pillow"). I ended up screwing up the CD so it skips to the beginning of the song whenever it reaches the end, which I guess is okay for me. I also started cleaning my room, but stopped when I realised my guitar needed tuning. I love ADD. Really, I do.

Last night, I watched most of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and it really baffled me that someone would choose to make such a mediocre hollywood movie with all the mediocre hollywood cliches. The main character has a tragic secret that he tries to conceal beneath his tough-as nails exterior? The jerk in the group is actually in league with the enemy? The apparently useless female character has a hidden superpower that she only chooses to use in the direst of circumstances? Golly, who knew? It really gets my goat that there are rational adults who probably went to college working on movies like these. They could do so much better. Why choose to make a slapstick family Christmas movie or a bawdy fratboy romp? Crappy movies bring in crappy revenue, and usually take the same amount of effort to make as brilliant and well-respected movies. Why would anyone choose to go the forgettable route?

I'm in a pickle

I want to change the layout of my blog. This one's pretty crappy and not real condusive to photoposting. But I'm not one to leave my identity behind. Maybe in a few more days...

I've been motoring through the Chaplin collection like there's no tomorrow, and I think my fandom has grown into an all-out obsession. Charles Chaplin was the great comedic genius of the 20th century. Not to discredit other comedians; there have been and continue to be some incredibly brilliant and hilarious human beings out there. But Chaplin was a real master of the genre, a pure, perfect, timeless, talented, and overall incredible man.