insanity of many kinds
April 20. 2000

yeah, i'm a little tired...There's a special feeling in the air here at Tyler during the week of final crits. I would say it felt like the anticipation of Christmas, except tinged with desperation and lack of sleep. Little art students scurry everywhere, unshaven and unwashed, bags under their eyes, paint splattering their clothes, consuming large cups of coffee and soda.

Paul looked at me earlier this evening rather sadly and said, "I don't think I'm sleeping tonight." We wear all nighters like badges of courage. A triumph of will.

It's amazing how whatever I am currently drawing with somehow ends up all over my face. I took a shower tonight, and went I looked at the washcloth, it was awash in muted shades of gold, green and blue. Damn Carandache.

But here I sit, not too late on Thursday night/Friday morning, two of the three major projects I have due completed to my satisfaction. The other one, for Rebecca, is due on Tuesday, which is miles away so I am not worrying about it yet. Instead I will sit here and grouse how every other student in the entire world has off tomorrow and I must instead endure 5 hours of crits. Ooooh yay. Jesus died for my sins, I tell ya.

My shoulders and arms, meanwhile, are absolutely killing me. I doubt I should even be typing right now, but I'll ignore the shooting pains in my left bicep. I tried to lay down to take a nap earlier this evening, but this insane, have to crack your back but you can't pain is stuck like glue to my tailbone. Arrgh. I feel like an open wound.

I talked to my Mom today...she mentioned that 70% of the students at my Dad's school were absent today because of the Columbine anniversary. Wow. I'm amazed how oblivious I've become to the rhythm of high school life.

And how glad I am to never ever have to go back.

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all writings, (c) 1999-2000, BRR