No, there is no apostrophe in “yall”. That’s a yankee thing.
I’m working on a still life for the second day. There’s little more I hate to paint than still lifes. They remain still, but I move around. I can’t see what I’m painting because the light’s on the subject and not on my canvas. My brushes are shot. The humidity fucks up the paint. It dries too fast, I use too much, I don’t mix enough. It’s one of those canvases that now has a half-inch coat of paint in all hues.
I’m almost done (read: ragequit) and the prof tells me I’ve used too much water and I should work with just the paint. I start yet another coat of thick, almost unmixed paint in heavy textures. FUCK. Now it looks like a child fingerpainted on it, and I’m resigned to bring all the paints I’ve got to class since I’m running out of the others.
I keep willing my eyes to become lazers and burn the fucking thing, but that has yet to happen. But it will!
Bitchfest Tuesday: it keeps me from ruining the facebook farming/mafia/ I’m unemployed and bored /twilight makes me moist endless list of bullshit.