I looked at my arm today and couldn't tell if it was covered in paint from summer camp or blood.
What more can I say?
"Time to shower. And do it all over again tomorrow."
Here is a to do list that I have really been wanting to tackle and longggg assss work weeks make most of this almost impossible:
1. Finish writing and illustrating "Bad Ideas" for a Pittsburgh zine I'm contributing to
2. Launch "Mobile Art Party" at parks here in Weston and at Artscape Youngplace
3. Organize another Curatorial Hardware event
4. Keep making progress on Emily DiCarlo's "Set Together" exhibition for Nuit Blanche
5. Don't get another cold again you were just sick last month omgggggg
6. Email eight zillion people
7. Read all the things.
8. Wash this gunk off
9. Get a haircut you damn hippie
10. Learn how cell division works and multiply myself so the clones can get it done
11. Never admit defeat
At camp today a kid was super upset and I really couldn't blame him. He's allowed to be sad. That's ok. But I wanted to try to get him to feel a bit better. It went a little bit like:
"Don't smile. Nope. Don't do it! Don't. Don't smile! You're not allowed. It's not okay to laugh. No. You better stop! Don't smile! No smiling!"
Reverse psychology is pretty great. He smiled. A lot.
I am fortunate and privileged, so privileged. I know that. But I am learning something new about it now: Even when I feel like shit, and I'm not doing enough of all the other things I want to be doing, I still have to stand back and smile at it all. I said I would never complain if I got into this 9-5 position. So I don't care if it's paint or blood. I am crazy about this gig.
Do I sounds like Gwyneth Paltrow? Do I need to fuck off?
"Erase the list. Don't do it. Don't make art. Just don't. Stop. You're not allowed. Nope. No art! Bad! Quit it. I am warning you."