I get sidetracked by taking photos of the
damn
rusted
wire.
It's become a problem habit.
Even the dust it leaves behind I find mesmerizing.
My view on the way in to the studio.
Spying on my lovely studio-mate Alex.
(who's sister went to the same high school as me...
in a different state...W H A A A A T?!?!?!)
Coils. I'll have to write about this in my thesis paper.
(currently I have "three" thesis papers in one, I must
streamline it, organize it & be brilliant in the process...hmmmm)
Encaustic wax, tissue paper & netting rubbed with ink.
The texture... good.
The translucency... good.
I DO like the beeswax scent.
It's in its tweaking process.
I lay on the floor a lot looking at it, pointing with my toes.
Sometimes I mumble.
It will be a magnificent installation.
One I will discuss with intellect and confidence.
This is what I keep telling myself.
It works.
So far.
(studio yoga has been replaced with sessions
at the gym that leave me wilted from things like...
slamming a medicine ball into the ground,
squat jumping,
planks (f-ing planks),
rowing,
curling,
lunging,
balancing pushups,
kettle ball things,
more squatting,
and so on and so on)
o
o
O
o
Me.
Sitting at home
Messing with "photo booth"
When I should be working on my thesis
Another problem distraction
o
o
o
O
o
o
this guy...
(a whole lotta sexy of an already extremely sexy song...
who knew this was possible?)
(he's phenomenal in Dallas Buyers Club BTW)
