This is a post titled I’m getting drunk alone in my studio and not getting any work done.
My art will stagnate no longer. I have a studio: a place to work, a place to play, a place to call my own.
I’m on the fourth floor of the Livestock Exchange Building in the Westbottoms of Kansas City. My first night was perfect (minus the part where I was called a prostitute at the bar across the street). I unpacked, put my Pete Seeger record on and began to work. Well, I began to work after I stopped rolling around on the bare hardwood floors saying, “it’s mine it’s mine it’s mine.”
I continued my Harvest Festival painting that I started in October. I quit around midnight so I could go to the top floor of the building and see the other businesses I would be working near—mostly lawyers, but the few artists I saw are quite talented.
I wandered up and down the halls for an hour, eating chex mix the night watchmen gave me and feeling as if I were in an indie film about finding yourself or whatever.
This is the perfect place for me. I’m excited to post paintings that I not only start, but finish. I’m ready to listen to my voice, find my style and fulfill my dream (whatever that may be).
I couldn’t put the cork back
in the fucking wine bottle.
Feelings of defeat and shame
were balanced on my head like
the collegiate texts I never bother
to open. My most recent attempt was
such a smooth success. Flawless
entry and closure upon completion.
Where have I gone wrong?
Where had all my…
He did it!!! I love it. You’re awesome Jimmy :)
Here’s an article that allowed me to have a moment to get some feelings off of my chest concerning the education system in this country. So, that’s pretty cool.
I literally watched that for like 2 minutes because I didn’t realize it was a loop. Dat voice.
Yeah, Melissa/Michelle are incredible vocalists. We did a three-part harmony to Paramore’s “Pressure” and I really wish I had gotten it on tape. But hopefully we practice again tonight.