I was unemployed for so long (2 and a half months)
and then suddenly I have three jobs, all wanting
my time. I'm doing a properties scavenger hunt for
Benefactors which opens way too soon at Theatre Row.
I'm scheduled to do some scenic painting at the York
Theatre soon, though what I have no idea.
And perhaps best of all, I am in concept design stage
for what looks to be a fantastic, demanding, arduous
and breathtaking spectacle whose name I cannot release
yet. I very much want to take a home office pic and
post it but I'm certain that is a no no. For now.
I will say that is loaded with fur and sequins and
there is hardly a straight bit of tailoring save for
a tuxedo. That is until I figure out how to adapt it
to our needs. Mink crinoline anyone?
Some things that have been on my mind recently:
1. What are you?
I get asked this constantly, and usually in a seeming
non-threatening way. However, asking this question to a
person of mixed heritage usually makes us feel like you
are asking us to qualify ourselves. I am a person first
and foremost leave it at that.
2. Theory and Practice:
To truly excel at art, just like sports or law, you
have to work at it tirelessly and daily. Talent may be
something we are born with but it requires upkeep or it
becomes stagnant and rots a little. A few of my friends
are having this issue having taken jobs out of school that
don't really call for drawing or painting capabilities, just
long hours that leave them unable to make any work due to
exhaustion or apathy (her word, not mine.)
3. The end of an era:
What a sad end to the tenure of John Galliano.
4. Asshole Magnet:
That would be me, Ladies and Gentlemen. I managed to
fall for the fleecy exterior of yet another wolf in sheeps
clothing. I believe the deciding factor was on the third date
when he tells me, after I voice a few concerns of mine that he
might be a player and how I don't need that,
"It will sound arrogant, but I've been avoiding calls from
a twenty-one year old boy tonight. I've been ignoring him
to be with you." Am I missing something? Was this meant to
somehow reassuring or complimentary? Where HAVE all the good
men gone? I need some gaurds, all my friends are too busy
with decent relationships to make sure I don't fall in the well.
At The Demolition Depot in Harlem.
Four floors of the accumulated insides
of Manhattan Mansions Past.
Atop some two by fours rests an enormous oval miracle.
Rain outside the theatre, sideways. At night.
The Menu @ Julius NYC.
This man will get you drunk. Beware.
mon lit. il me manques.