Because you need to.

http://artsluts.blogspot.com/

My face is gonna regret this handful of peanuts in the morn.

Okay, well. I can't say I've been extremely busy this summer. Not extremely busy enough to put off blogging anyways. I won't make excuses, it's just sheer laziness that's kept me from typing outside of IM-ing. I haven't even finished my cover letter to Opus (which I started at the beginning of August) I would say that I'm quite intimidated by this amazing art supply store and want to make a good impression, thereby taking my sweet time to craft the letter perfectly, but that would be a lie. Semi-lie, but most definitely not the root of the cause.

Anyways, that paragraph made me sound like such a pompous ass. So what did I do this summer... Volunteer at Burnaby art gallery, paint a mural for the 2009 World Police Games and.... mooch around wasting my life away. :)

I've really only finished 2 small pieces for my portfolio, but I guess I got a good chunk of my photo portfolio finished. Playing around with a new digital camera I bought of a friend. (: Practically a steal.

Besides the physical happenings of my summer, I've been pretty happy these past two months! I'm really proud of myself for being so happy hahahaha. Everything is basically going as planned. Except where things meet at cross-roads with my mother, but that's a whole nother battle.

No summer romances, but I sure as hell ain't complaining. ;)

Dinnertime.

Speak soon.

Heat

The Heat makes me so sleepy. I capitalize Heat because it seems to have a destructive, cruel mind of it's own.

Speak soon when I'm not sweating my heart and soul out.

Watching a Thunderstorm

Waiting and watching a thunderstorm. Watching and waiting to capture the exact moment the lightening striked under pouring rain. It's so indescribable. Pure fun at it's simplest form. The thunderclouds were right overhead while I was taking photos.

Speak Soon.

Today I Saw a Mexican Get Arrested

I still think the bus driver was rather racist... The Mexican man had every right to be angry and swear at the driver (who sounded British) but maybe the Mexican guy DID try and sneak in through the back door? But when he got on the bus, he did pay the bus fare. The driver didn't need to call for Translink security. Even after he did, he didn't have to call for more after the Mexican dude was finished ranting his anger at him, "fucking faggit. motherfuck'n racist bastard... fucking faggit. Why don't you go back to where you fuckin came from, fuckin' faggot... I bet if I was white this wouldn'tve happend fucken racist... I'll sit here and wait for the fucken security, fuckin racist asshole..." And so forth. Sigh.

Who's to blame? Nobody knows. But they really didn't need 5 security + police cars to show up for one mexican dude.

Other than that, it was a pretty good day :) Lots of art. Lots of Gastown and discovery (excuse the cheese)

End Rant.

How Kind of You.

"She seems like a bitch, though.

A really cute bitch."

Drawing Party!

Art, food, drinks, attractive people = Fun.

So good.

It Will Never End.

Hey Baby, Can You Bleed Like Me

I was doing some thinking on the bus today.

Do we hurt ourselves because we are afraid that others will be the ones to harm us?

We cut ourselves, attempt suicide, commit suicide, abuse alcohol and drugs, wallow in self-pity - all in attempt to mask these fears. We keep our mind distracted, busy with self-incflicted pain to keep our mind from reaching the ultimately universal truth:

We are terrified of others toppling our walls, touching a nerve, cracking our shells, breaking our hearts.

Then, I decided to give humankind more credit. We aren't all cowards who run from reality.

Do we hurt ourselves make ourselves feel better? Is it because we need the assurance that someone out there still cares?

We feel lonely in our rooms in the middle of the night, with only our thoughts. Do we do these foolish things to get attention? To be noticed? To feel reassured that somebody cares and worries about you. It's kind of selfish, but I know it happens.

Do we hurt ourselves because we fear change?

We purposely stumble and scrape our knees - buying us time to 'nurse our wounds' and enlongating our stay in the same place. Not wanting to move foward, into the unknown. A social excuse to not deal with our problems and reality. Do we believe that, if things don't change - if things stay the same, we will be happier? Familiartiy breeds comfort. Comfort is security. Is security love, though?

When I was home, I came to the conclusion that we are born to be afraid. We are scared of being hurt. So, we injure ourselves to know what it feels like - hoping if the time comes - it'd only hurt so much, and we'd be used to it.

It's never the same - because you don't see it coming. That's what's most painful.

Tell me, are you afraid?

Enough of that. I was just thinking.

End Rant.

Lines.

A lonely post for a lonely girl.

Speak soon.

Valium.

I love lying.