The picture features electrical taped nipples, and I'm just not in the mood to post it right now. I'm in a covering up mood.
I had a passing brush with failure last night. I think that I can make it right. I painted a picture of a bare tree. Even put a knot in it. Then I hung a swing from it and surrounded it with desert grasses (it's a fantasy piece). I was meant to use a low-heat glue gun to lay on color, hard to explain. Turns out I have a high heat glue gun and the color that was supposed to come out in dots squirted out all over my scrap page. So, that was right out. And here I was stuck with this stupid tree, looking like it should be taped to a refrigerator somewhere in a home with children (but Doc thought it was nice to see me painting something "real"). I finally figured out a way to complete it without loosing my dots. Just use a different medium. If I had dimensional paint, I would totally use that, but I don't. I do have a way, worry not. It will still be a very pedestrian painting when it is done. The fantasy is that it will be an East Coast tree turning above our desert grasses. Doc even said I could hang a swing in Tony if I wanted to, he would buy me the rope and the wood and the red paint for the seat. Anyway . . . I'm pretty sure I can do it so it looks like it was never meant to be done another way, but if this ends up being my most famous painting, bury my ashes in a New Orleans cemetery.
Here's the hated tree:
I was scrolling through Facebook today and a friend, who is a mutual friend with Carter, had a link to buy a tshirt with Carter's face on it. And a big picture of said shirt with Carter's face on it. My reaction was surprising to me. I wasn't mad, or wistful, I felt ill. Really ill. I went outside and called Kelli to get the image out of my head. We negotiated the details of my Doctor Who Nativity Scene. She has the same Xmas tree that I do (they're black) and knows about the three foot gap between the bottom of the tree and the floor. She agreed it is the perfect space for some Whovian Xmas madness.
My look is changing. Got the hair-as-art going, 1/3 dark, 2/3 blonde . . . there is always a little dark left. Got my full length arm warmers today, and they fit wonderfully and cover my scars completely, even the ones on my biceps. Judge this, mother fucker. If only I could fix my teeth. Doc said that implants are covered. They cover 60%, we cover 40%, one tooth at a time. Wow. That's going to be a lot of money. We can't have a car and me have teeth. It's that simple. I haven't told Doc that I know that. I'll let him think he's building my hopes up for a while.
We had another "I want to go down to the strip and take pictures on the bus" talk. Well, he had a laugh, I had a beg. It didn't go well for my independence.
I'm out of weed. And I have been informed that if it leads me to hurt myself again, I AM going to the hospital, for a long time (said extra ominously). Nice.
So, a couple of blows to the old ego, when I thought, PMS aside, I was doing really well.
I've just figured out that I don't have to wear rubber gloves or take my arm warmers off to paint. So, I'm going to go do that. I have to fix that fucking tree painting.