If you want to read my play, go here.
New this week! Desktop of the lovely Louise... who's pale lankiness makes me dumb in the head. Currently found in my art section or in the desktop downloads in the Army section, here.
It was partially as an experiment, as I haven't done one before. I may be going back to school *gasp* for graphic arts. Seattle Central has one of the best programs on the West coast and I wasn't quite the oldest person checking it out (though I may be the oldest that gets in, who knows).
That's right, kiddies, it's never too late to go to school and learn junk and stuff.
Should I go, it's two years of pretty hard core stuff, of which I should have a pretty good headstart (having actually been an Art Director the last three years). I can already use InDesign, Photoshop and own a Wacom pad, so good luck to me. I'll have to learn Mac (I have a PC), but that shouldn't be too hard.
The scariest part is submitting a portfolio. They don't want everything done on computer, so I have to figure out if I can still draw... *and* do it on fucking paper. Stupid dark ages.
Part two of my day.
I am usually not jealous. I am sometimes old.
For the past few entries, Louise has been expressing her displeasure at a friend or lover screwing her over. Please don't assume my familiar tone means I know what happened or that what happened is even the point of this section. It isn't, and I don't.
I do, however, have to disagree with the bulk of her anger; which seems to be that people will eventually screw you over.
As you age, patience becomes a powerfully driving force. I find myself much more patient with inanimate object or events outside my control. I find myself much less patient with people.
While not jealous, like all people, I want to feel unique. I don't want to be another name on a list or salve for a wounded ego. As I get older, my friends become fewer in number, but more deep in action and impact.
I don't crave attention, mind you. I don't need a greater and greater amount of interest to keep me going... but I do need around the same amount of attention as time goes on.
I take actions much louder than words, and the words, "I like you" aren't nearly as important as the time it takes to say them. In fact, I don't even need to hear those words. Just the time spent calling or emailing or IMing or whatever, is enough to prove your point. Provided that point doesn't grow dimmer and dimmer. Provided those actions aren't being duplicated ad nausem with whoever happens to be in your current vision. That has a feeling of paw around shiny thing and my days of being a random shiny thing are well behind me.
People don't generally screw over other people. Occasionally it happens... but as you get older, you just realize you are the one screwing over yourself. There are always warning signs. There are always indications that someone you know is not going to return the same amount of energy as you provide to them. Always.
As you get older, you see the signs a lot sooner. And at that very instant, you are the only one that can screw yourself. At that very point, the decision becomes, is this worth the energy I'm putting into it? Does the happy moments outweigh the sad? Is the attention enough to hold your interest?
Because if it's not... and you're still there... you only have yourself to blame when it goes bad. And it will go bad.
I am not jealous of time spent away from me. But I have to admit... the older I get... to being less patient with knowing the same time is being spent with someone else. And I only have myself to blame.
New this week! Desktop of the lovely Louise... who's pale lankiness makes me dumb in the head. Currently found in my art section or in the desktop downloads in the Army section, here.
It was partially as an experiment, as I haven't done one before. I may be going back to school *gasp* for graphic arts. Seattle Central has one of the best programs on the West coast and I wasn't quite the oldest person checking it out (though I may be the oldest that gets in, who knows).
That's right, kiddies, it's never too late to go to school and learn junk and stuff.
Should I go, it's two years of pretty hard core stuff, of which I should have a pretty good headstart (having actually been an Art Director the last three years). I can already use InDesign, Photoshop and own a Wacom pad, so good luck to me. I'll have to learn Mac (I have a PC), but that shouldn't be too hard.
The scariest part is submitting a portfolio. They don't want everything done on computer, so I have to figure out if I can still draw... *and* do it on fucking paper. Stupid dark ages.
Part two of my day.
I am usually not jealous. I am sometimes old.
For the past few entries, Louise has been expressing her displeasure at a friend or lover screwing her over. Please don't assume my familiar tone means I know what happened or that what happened is even the point of this section. It isn't, and I don't.
I do, however, have to disagree with the bulk of her anger; which seems to be that people will eventually screw you over.
As you age, patience becomes a powerfully driving force. I find myself much more patient with inanimate object or events outside my control. I find myself much less patient with people.
While not jealous, like all people, I want to feel unique. I don't want to be another name on a list or salve for a wounded ego. As I get older, my friends become fewer in number, but more deep in action and impact.
I don't crave attention, mind you. I don't need a greater and greater amount of interest to keep me going... but I do need around the same amount of attention as time goes on.
I take actions much louder than words, and the words, "I like you" aren't nearly as important as the time it takes to say them. In fact, I don't even need to hear those words. Just the time spent calling or emailing or IMing or whatever, is enough to prove your point. Provided that point doesn't grow dimmer and dimmer. Provided those actions aren't being duplicated ad nausem with whoever happens to be in your current vision. That has a feeling of paw around shiny thing and my days of being a random shiny thing are well behind me.
People don't generally screw over other people. Occasionally it happens... but as you get older, you just realize you are the one screwing over yourself. There are always warning signs. There are always indications that someone you know is not going to return the same amount of energy as you provide to them. Always.
As you get older, you see the signs a lot sooner. And at that very instant, you are the only one that can screw yourself. At that very point, the decision becomes, is this worth the energy I'm putting into it? Does the happy moments outweigh the sad? Is the attention enough to hold your interest?
Because if it's not... and you're still there... you only have yourself to blame when it goes bad. And it will go bad.
I am not jealous of time spent away from me. But I have to admit... the older I get... to being less patient with knowing the same time is being spent with someone else. And I only have myself to blame.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
You're an art director? How did you get there? I really want to be an art director for photo shoots. I have no idea about how to work up to that position.