>.>

Right, well, to shake the two years' worth of dust off of this, I'm still...here. I've been working on oil for quite a while. For some reason, the oil-like qualities show themselves near the end of my process. It's a little bit frustrating, but perhaps I shouldn't choose sizes closely resembling heights of seven-year old children.

So oil and branches. You'll see that soon, after I do something cool, like finishing and photographing it. The whole thing involved House of Leaves, 3-D modeling, oils, a drill and some tree branches, and three months of art classes.
Oh, and blood, did I mention? I was stretching the canvas and stapling it to the bars. Well at one point, the stapler, under the influence of some complex forces and my unexperienced hands, fell over and kind of cracked my nail over the fleshy part. At that point, it just hurt (and bled rather profusely); later (and three more nails later, at that) it was kind of funny.

"I'm bleeding."
"...What were you doing?"
"Stretching a piece of cloth over bars."

Oh, but I stretched it very well, though.

So really, albeit awkwardly, I shed blood for the sake of self-expression.


Jeeze. This is what I do to not study for finals, you see? Resurrecting old methods of communication, plotting castle sieges with potato launchers, having creepy writing unblocks which make art reports spin off for a page and a half debating the use of oils as opposed to Chinese ink to illustrate timeless concepts.

My Physics teacher is insane.

Love, off to make tea,
Me