this too shall pass

Uban. 2010.

Sincerely,

Young transient one

fuckyesjesselacey

http://fuckyesjesselacey.tumblr.com/

My heart screams for this man.  He's the number 1 on my Forgivable Five.

Mandala.

Life is strange sometimes.  Sometimes it is scary too.

I want to learn how to tell people how much they mean to me before it's too late, and they're gone.  Even if it wasn't meant to be, or even if shit gets fucked up, or even if we're human and we're just going to die anyway. I want to be able to tell everyone that I care about them and I worry about them and I like them because they are participating in my universe.  I want everyone to know that no matter how long it's been I still think about them from time to time, and I hope the Universe takes care of them and gets them where they need to go.

I put my faith into the power of the Universe.
How to draw a mandala.  Not exactly difficult, but if you need a walk through.  This gots yo back.

FML. on a train.

My flight to Rome gets cancelled because it was snowing in Memmigen.  I have to take an 11 hr train from Munich to Rome to get there early enough.  I was in a train compartment by myself, and then a girl who was some kind of ambiguous asian and spoke minimal english came in.  We closed the compartment door and decided to get some sleep.  Then a few stops later, three men get on the train, a bald shady looking Italian, an ambiguous european, and a younger Italian with headphones.  The bald Italian says, "Posto? Posto?"  He sits down.  The ambiguous European leaves the car after some stops.  So most of us end up falling asleep.  The asian girl was like completely passed out with her mouth open.  I'm somewhere in dream land, when I feel a dark shape in front of me.  I scream "Hey!" and open my eyes.  Next to me is a big African man in one of those shiny bubble jackets.  I'm confused, thinking "where did this guy come from?"  He looks confused.  The train is very dark.  I look to my purse which he's holding.  Everyone in the train looks at me.  They must think I had a bad dream.  Because the asian girl and the younger italian go back to sleep.  I am frozen.  Paralyzed.  The bald Italian guy has eyes that know something.  He looks mad, and not just because I woke him up.  Then the big African guy says something in Italian to the creepy bald Italian.  The big African guy runs out of the train compartment and leaves the door open.  The bald Italian goes after him.  There must've been more of their men on the train.  They open a window in the train car and stand by the open door of my compartment.  I'm still frozen.  It's about 5 am.  Everyone is asleep in their own compartments.  I want a conductor to come by so bad, but one never comes.  I have no idea whether they want to dangle me out of the window or if they're just feeling warm and trying to catch a breeze.  I take a moment to check for the most important things in my purse.  Still there are my passport and credit cards.  Instead the bald Italian closes the window and comes back into the compartment and he sits.  He closes the door and shuts the shades.  They're looking at me.  The big African guy is standing outside the compartment now.  Occasionally he knocks on the door signaling the bald Italian.  The bald Italian occasionally stands up.  He pretends to go to sleep.  At times he hides parts of his face when I stare directly at him.  But in the window I can see his reflection and how he's staring at me.  I still have no idea what to do. I press buttons on my alarm clock thats sitting on the table.  It's weird, but this gesture seems to confuse him.  There is an asian girl asleep in front of me.  I want to protect her, but I have no idea what to do.  Then the younger Italian guy apparently wakes up, and he leans all the way forward.  He's staring at me too.  He stares at the asian girl, and then back at me.  I realize he was in cahoots with the other two guys the whole time.  This continues for about 45 minutes until we reach the station Firenze SMN.  They exit the compartment facing me and their backs turned to the door.  The younger Italian guy exits last and looks back at me and says, "Ciao!"  I tell the asian girl to turn on the lights and to check her shit for anything missing.

Call/At Night/For Something Beautiful

Uban 2011.

Uban 2011.

Uban 2011.

Semester's over.  Final crit tomorrow and Wednesday...  I fall back into text based stuff.  Go figure... :o/ From my sketchbook then manipulated, etc.

Probably also related to my Love Letter to Paul Thek and my post about A Softer World.

Pictures in Bed

I found this cool project called "Pictures in Bed."  As it reads, it's a series of portraits of people in bed by Jacob Pritchard.  I actually played a few games of Kings with a group of friends last weekend, and someone made up a rule that after every sentence we had to say, "In bed."
For example, "How are you in bed?"  "I am fantastic in bed."
And of course, I decided to Google image search pictures "in bed" and that's how I ended up finding that website.

My roomie, Carolyn, took this picture of me and kitty in bed in bed.   HAHAHA

Painting Class Collages: Jacks and Rollerskate Girl + HOLLERING

Collage 1.  Computer printed images collaged on white paper.  Uban. 2011.

I made two collages at the beginning of the semester for my painting class, after my original ideas fell apart.  All the parts of the collages are of pictures I took on my walk to Temple Roma from my apartment in Piazza Barberini.  I took a lot of pictures of mannequins.  They stick men in this image have been described as jack-in-the-boxes, totem poles, heads on spits, etc.  There is something violent and eerie about the imagery, which I don't disagree with.  I was inspired by a story my friend had told me about Plato.  I actually Googled the story I was referencing, and I realized that I had been telling it all wrong.  I've decided over my winter break I'm going to make a small book inspired by this collage and the Plato story.  So it's better for me to tell it later, then everyone can consider how clever I am :oP (Just kidding, lovelies!)

Collage 2.  Computer printed images collaged on white paper.  Uban. 2011.

This was an unresolved collage.  I decided to come up with an narrative.  A Cinderella story of sorts.  Where this roller skate girl finds loses her skate.  But in the end the wrong guy finds it.

___________________________________________________________________________

Bonus Post Featurette:  HOLLERING

My friend was giving me advice on how to holler at guys based on how he hollers at girls, even though he tells me I'm technically only allowed to sit, bat my eyelashes and wait.  But because of my crazy penis envy I feel the need to aggressively holler.  I hope all my awkward dating fails put a smirk on that cynical portion of your soul.  At least then, they would be good for something other than causing me shame and regret... ahahahah

"therefore, when it comes to girls, i'm already at least interested in their personality if i'm hollering at them. lol, hollering. the selective process is pre-holler, because i start hollering after i've noticed that their interesting and not when i see them from across the room. it's sweet because you don't just try to mac on people and fail awfully, which i used to do lol"  

Thanks, Buddy.

***Also, I updated the earlier post from last week  "Series of Drawings: Pogo Was a Friend of Mine I, II, II" since  I realized how shitty the picture quality was originally.