sugarpill

I have spent the week drawing. Mostly. I've been working on faces. Trying to get what I draw to actually look like the person I'm drawing. And I've been getting much better at it. I don't know why it's so hard. I think there's so much personality in the face, that if you make any subtle changes, too many mistakes drawing the face, it ceases to resemble the model. I don't know. My casual drawing has gone to shit, though. I have so many things crawling around inside of my head, like things inside a cave, and everything I draw is just shit. Just shit. Eyes don't line up, they slant at 45 degrees, shoulders are way too fucking wide or too damned skinny. Hands look like pieces of canned meat. Everything just looks like shit. Which is discouraging. But I've really lost interest in most of what I'm doing. It feels like I'm working in a void.

It doesn't matter what I do, I'm still stuck here in this nothingness. This lethargy. Imagine if laziness wasn't a passing mood, if it was the very place where you lived. Imagine if it was the air you breathed. Imagine if no matter what you did or what you wanted, the rooms around you were just too tired to notice. Imagine if the the walls forgot you were there, but you couldn't get away from them.

I watched most of Brotherhood of the Wolf again tonight. You have to watch that movie in French. I can't understand French, but I've seen it so many times I know what's being said anyway. I fucking love that movie.

Tomorrow, up early for a job interview. Maybe I'll go out to the Luze Box, if for no other reason that to escape the walls for a few hours. To pursue oblivion. Saturday, up early to drive to Vermont for my brother's graduation. Spending the weekend there. Which is alright, because I'm really fucking sick of being here.