Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Bad Art Hurts So Good

It is hot here in the brutal humid way that suffocates you slowly in your sleep like a meteorologic boa constrictor. You wake up covered in sweat, panting and thirsty and full of nightmare seeds. There have been no bike rides since I have yet to find the perfect bike. I am left to taking showers to cool myself, to balance my agitated energy with the raging spray of fresh water. And I delight in this, I do, but I miss being able to mereley and passively recline in the tub like some paralyzed dehydrated mermaid. I enjoyed the one or two baths I've had in my life.

Summer is such a crucible for me, the heat and the lushness bring out a longing and restlessness in my soul that makes it hard for me to feel level-headed. Summer makes me feel wild and reckless and inflamed with desires for constant motion and travel and adventure. The most difficult thing for me to do is stay in one place (as I am) and act like a practical adult (which I am). It is a tired metaphor, but I do feel like some kind of firecracker with a long fuse that has been ignited by this new land of excesses and it is only a matter of time before I explode. (will it be beautiful or merely loud?)

There is a site called artpad that has a flash program that lets you paint a picture and records the process of its creation. It is insanely addictive, strangely relaxing, and fun to watch the resulting movie.

View my masterpiece and then make your own.