Nocturnal Artist

I've had some vivid reminders of death lately. A few relatives are slowly declining in health. Another few are not quite as lucky. I had a saddening but somehow touching instance at work today:

A middle-aged woman walked into the library with a small child by her side and several books under her arm. She set them down on the counter top and turned as if to walk away, but paused instead. The little girl looked up at me from below the counter with a look that I can remember so clearly now. It was as if she was sad, but there was some blankness behind the expression that seemed to indicate that she didn't quite understand what was happening. She only knew that she should not have been happy just then. When I saw her, I could tell that they weren't there just to return books.

When I put my hand on the first book, a glossy cover with some indistinguishable title and eyes that looked up at me, the woman started to speak. "My daughter used to go here," she said "but she passed away. I was going through her things, and thought that you might like these back." The woman looked down, as if about to cry. "I've returned them to you now. I'm sorry that they are a few years late."

I haven't written in a while. Amongst various reasons, I'm in a bit of a rough spot. I've started countless drawings and paintings, but I haven't been able to bring myself to finish them. My next two weeks are filled with final exams and projects, and to top it off I'm still undecided about where to go next year.

Despite the constant confusion, I'm incredibly happy. I'm not certain that much has changed but my outlook. Perhaps I'm just happy to have something to hope for, as distant as it may be. As strange as this may seem, I've never really wanted anything before now.

I have been insanely busy lately. I’ve had three exams this week. I think I did quite well, but I’ve still got a lot ahead of me.

In the meantime, I thought I would share the video of one of my talented friends. Her name is Rachel, but I call her Rai. She’s wonderfully brilliant and knows more about language than anyone I’ve met. If I recall correctly, she can speak some French, Danish, Spanish, American Sign Language, as well as some others that I have probably forgotten. She also has a lovely voice.

Anyhow, this is Rai covering All I Want by Joni Mitchell:

I have always enjoyed watching people paint or draw, so I decided that it might be interesting to document my own progression.















I first started with a rough outline of an eye. That is what I usually start with if I'm not certain of what to paint or draw. The rest comes to me eventually.

Sadly, the color in these images is slightly off. My walls should be a shade of lavender.















Next, I started to work in greater detail. Most obvious in the image above is that I've added the lashes, but I also did some shading and touched up on the eyelids. I also seem to have lost my blue paint, so the iris is now mostly green.

I've been told that I shouldn't paint in sections, but it's simply what works for me. I would also like to note that the dripping paint is intentional.

I'm not sure when I'll be able to paint again, so here is a close-up of what I've done so far:

Last night, I had a dream that I was on an airplane. I had a four hour flight, I desperately needed to pee, and I was afraid to use the bathroom. Instead of getting over my fear of airplane toilets, I called JM on my cell phone and told him about my situation. We joked and chatted about it until the airplane landed, and I could find an alternate bathroom in the airport.

I'm annoyed with some of my classes. I do my work, get mostly A's, but I feel like a drone. I am less inclined to think for myself. When I was one of four hundred and my teachers knew my name, it was easy to take pride in my individuality. Now I feel like a statistic.