i love windy days
March 2. 2000
The weather had so many faces today. In the morning it was damp and cool, but a fall kind of damp, not a spring kind of damp or slowly melting snow damp. Then mid afternoon the sun broke through and the shadows it made were so beautiful. Later on it got very windy, almost like pre thunderstorm windy. There's so much electricity and energy snapping through the air. I love weather like this. I wish it could be windy all the time.
I was hoping this would be some sort of transcendentalist meditation on weather and the power of nature and such, but it's just not coming out like that. I had such a fabulous poetic dialogue in my head at six o'clock this evening, but it is burgeoning on toward 2:30 and I suspect it will be close to three before I get this motherfucker uploaded.
I just finished a drawing for Chuck about 20 minutes ago...a panoramic view of something, was the assignment. In Conte crayon, tonal (three colors) and had to depict deep space. For all my half assedness lately, I'm turning out some pretty good drawings. I was even bold enough to include a bit of a self portrait in this one. I'm continually amazed at how good a drawer I am considering how little I work at it. In class today, Chuck mentioned something about talent without discipline being a sin. I cringed, because I felt like he was talking right to me. I don't sketch, I don't practice. But I do love to draw, when it all gets down to it. I don't want to fall into that trap of drawing only as a means to an end. I want to draw just for the sake of drawing, and I'm finding that harder and harder. I'm taking Chuck's figure drawing class for sophomores next year, because I think he's an amazing teacher and also because I love figure drawing more than anything. Hopefully that'll help.
Today's my Mommy's 46th birthday. I realized at around 11 pm that I hadn't called her, despite my father reminding me to over email earlier in the day. I did fire off a little bit of an email to her, though. So that will assuage my guilt a bit. My mother's very beautiful. It kills me that she refers to herself as fat and frumpy. I would put up a picture of her to prove it to you all, but I don't have any here at school.
Oh well. Take my word for it.
all writings, (c) 1999-2000, BRR