On Monday, I started a full-time job with outstanding benefits; I sold two paintings at Delicious! the Valley Arts Council‘s exhibit on Thursday, the pumpkin below and the beet above; and I have an article to work on for a magazine I admire. My spouse has begun writing about TV again, and has some solid job leads in his field. I have red low tops to wear while walking outside, but left my heels to stay in the office.
In job searching, nothing works until it does. Advice is usually much more condescending than helpful, I’ve found, even as I offer advice to others searching. We are smug, the employed. We are so much closer to those who aren’t, or aren’t to their desired amount, than we realize. Please let me remember this when I forget it.
Today Loki learned how fascinating windows can be.
Humans glow in infrared. (Thanks, Minute Physics!)
I’m compelled to use Written? Kitten! even when I’m just editing and there will be no new kittens.
I found a place to sell art prints: Society6. They do all the work, and even make giclee prints! It sounds perfect. Now to find a place with a big enough scanner…
A friend drove over in the sleety snow yesterday to hang out with me and Ken. We daydreamed aloud about winning the Powerball, stopped by the diner for some second dinner, and then watched a few episodes of The Joy of Painting.
Even in 1984 video quality and 1970s attire, Bob Ross remains refreshing. He takes on many roles in the show: art instructor, entertainer, therapist, life coach, and soul soother. The Joy of Painting stands for so much of what’s right about making art: it’s accessible, and with a few tools, available to all. It has the capacity to heal and the ability to empower.
If you didn’t see John D. Boswell and PBS‘s remix featuring the soft-voiced man himself, check it out below. If you have seen it, enjoy the uplift in your mood from another viewing.
Without a traditional working schedule and working life, there’re so many possibilities. With my editing workload dropping off these past few weeks (ah, the feasting and famining of freelance work!), I’m at a loss. I’m not sure whether to spend most of my time scrambling for more work, no matter how dull and dead-endy, or use my time to make things I’d really want to. Like more paintings. Or actually finish the apocalyptic novel I started.
It’s a bit too common of a problem though, you know? Everyone who’s ever said those things about making things, and said this thing about saying things about making things. Too much for us, right? Let’s just do it, hopeful creators of the world! Why shouldn’t Nike wisdom be shouted so?!
But still, in whatever form, it’s scary to put yourself out there through yourstuff. The Oatmeal comforts this anxiety-induced slacker.
On the side of things away from these worries, there’s cottage cheese in the fridge for breakfast. There’re coffee beans and crunchy leaves, and the husband and the puppy are napping sweetly on the couch in the living room. (Is it still a nap if it’s in the morning?) There’re library-borrowed movies to watch, Goodfellas, No Country for Old Men, Idiot Abroad. There’re, at least, 14 more waking hours for me this day.
Maybe I can do something good amidst those waking hours. And maybe, more generally, a bit of personal blogging here’ll help me focus in my floundering twenties. Thanks in advance, Internet.