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Month: November, 2013

Art is hard

Drawing is something I’ve always liked to do but of which have never had the pleasure of being very good. Occasionally I’ve gotten lucky and had something turn out nice – or at least interesting.

Now with all the free-time I’ve had lately I’ve taken to pursuing it more seriously for personal satisfaction. I’ve painted around 7 or 8 pictures in the last couple months. But I’m stuck and not getting any better.

I looked into drawing classes here in Chicago but unfortunately they’re up North in the rich and stuffy part of town – which besides being full of insufferable people is also too much of a commute. Despite all that, though, Vitrivian Fine Art Studio looked pretty good. But not at ~300 smackers for a 6-week class. The Art Institute was 560.

WTF. Why would something as civilized as drawing which should be enjoyed and learned by everyone be so fucking hoity-toity and exclusionary?!

So instead I got a book. Actually, we got it several months ago at Open Books and I forgot all about it until last night when I lamented how horrible I am at something I like so much. Tim said his father used it in the 70s (not this particular copy) and became exponentially better at drawing.

I’ve only read through the lengthy introduction so far.


As a starting point reference, I drew and painted a self-portrait, which is pretty fucking awful; I am horrible at drawing people and their noses and eyes and everything else. I guess that’s the point of learning, eh. I’ll try out another one once I feel I’ve made any progress.

that doesn't even look like me!

that doesn’t even look like me!


It’s raining, man.

Today feels like it’s Friday, which is strange because it’s Wednesday and I’m not even employed. Everyday is like Sunday. But today? It feels like it’s Friday.

I sure wish I could get out and take some photos but it’s raining cats and dogs. Actually, it’s just raining dirty water. Can you imagine if it really were raining cats and dogs? That would be scary and kind of sad. There are enough homeless animals as is.

Or raining men? That’s just disgusting.

Unless Eddie Vedder dropped into my apartment.

Not right now, though. I look like shit.

Actually, I had sex with a guy 10 years my senior who looked like Eddie Vedder and it wasn’t that great. His hair was to die for, though. And that body was thick!

But listen, I don’t have anything against the rain. I love it. And sometimes when I get caught in it without an umbrella I don’t even mind while everyone else around me runs for cover. I’m just not as big a fan when it’s 40 F outside. But as Axl poignantly crooned, “Nothing lasts forever even cold November rain.”

Did I mention how much I love Eddie’s hair?

Can't find a Vedder man

Can’t find a Vedder man