random love



“failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor”

                                                          ~Truman Capote

then I don’t fail enough.


I fail at little things, quite often: lacking discipline, producing enough, achieving balance.
I sweat the small shit.  I allow stress an easy in.  I’m impatient.
But an epic fail that forces me to get wise, Quick?

I don’t think so.
Because if said failure had happened I doubt I would be so scared.

I avoid getting hurt, which I feel is weak.
I have problems being vulnerable.  I protect myself.  I don’t risk enough.

I attempt growth: I risk, I jump, I expect.
There’s no palpable achievement, no net and free-fall is my second skin before I hit the ground, and it’s not graceful.
Disappointment happens, I hurt and I am hurt.
I cry a lot as a result and I think I’m stressing out my heart because when feeling especially neurotic, I swear its beat is damn irregular.

But life’s still fun and funny.

People surprise me.
Better yet, they impress the hell out of me.

random love

Perfect attendance

My eyeballs need cocainewas never my thing.


Except once.
Once in my life I didn’t miss a class the whole semester.

Goddammit, no Cont Art/Theory/Crit for me. Again.
I have yet to have a schedule that will allow my learning about Now Art so I take High Modern instead, which cuts off exactly when I get highly interested- 1968.
My sculpture advisor has such a constant hard-on for the macho gay artists of this period that I wonder if I’m going to witness the same reel of aggressive, testosterone-driven Rauschenberg, Johns, Pollock images and bios referenced in sculpture class.

Turns out, no.
The professor is a junkie for contemporary art, a beyond serious museum nerd and reputed to be a hard-as-nails, total bitch.
In other words, I will probably have a crush on her in a matter of days.
I smile.

This woman lives for modern art and I love her for it. She’s pretty ruthless if you don’t give two shits about investigating the why behind the art(ists) in their historical and contemporary context but the class cares. And though she’ll cut down lofty musings not grounded in earnest investigation of the topic at hand during class, she’s a really generous professor. For instance, her attendance policy: 100% attendance=final exam opt-out. Hell. Yes.

End-of-semester usually entails many hours of underslept hell on earth so eliminating one more exam/project sounds awesome. Except I like this class; I look forward to it and perfect attendance turns out to be a pretty painless endeavor.
This is unusual because I always skip a class or two. Sometime it’s because I can’t be in two places at once but often, I enjoy taking a personal day; I’ve done this since I was in my single digits.


So I’m memory tripping to a perfect attendance moment because of my recent FAILed attempt to post daily for the month of December. Pre-scheduled posts much? Right…I haven’t mastered that one yet. *sigh*

Still, let’s see what happens the rest of the month…although I guess it’s silly to daily post challenge during maximum holiday cheer month.
But I’m in Japan where people work on 12.25; there are no holidays in December*, which is extremely weird.
So of course I’m taking a personal day…it’s fucking Christmas for chrissakes.

*I lied; the Emperor’s birthday is December 23rd=holiday