Another morning,
blue dawn throws a grey cast across my surroundings,
but its not cold.

Not oppressing and heavy as other mornings have become.
Movement on the small of my back,
a finger pressed against my skin drawing circles,
drawing lines.

Line…vee-bump-bump…horseshoe.
when it runs out of space it starts back at the beginning:
line…vee-bump-bump…horseshoe,
reaching the end and starting over again.

I wake up slowly, it takes some time before I gain consciousness of my surroundings, before I am able to slowly put the characters into context.

My body stiffens.

Yesterday I dropped off my entries for the 14th Annual Juried Art Exhibition in Cranberry. I don’t know why I am so uncertian about my work, I left during the judging and went for alcohol. So a bloody mary and a sky blue martini later I returned to find that one of my pieces was accepted into the show. The reception is next saturday.

The curator’s introduction I feel as though as though it might be another instance that requires alcohol, thought this time out of one of those ouch-my-head moments instead of an ouch-my-nerves. The version of the introduction I have consists of 30-some pages on top of the basic few paragraphs publised at the above link which will probably be in the exhibition catalog. In it, she goes into detail of the 38 artist chosen for the exhibition, and no, she doesn’t let up on the “shift-F7″ key usage either. Now Mr. Carnegie originally started this exhibition to expose the citizens of Pittsburgh to what is going on in the art world today. Now I know i almost lost interest half way through as I stumbled past the “quashes” and the “panoplys” and the “quotidians,” but I can only imagine how the normal Pittsburgher’s will tackle this essay. They will either read-it and smile and nod in assumption they are just “out of the loop” or they will flip right past it, and these are the ones who bother to come out for the exhibit. Then again, if I wrote this piece I think I would try to confuse the masses as well with my infusion of non-quotidian (non-everyday) words just so everyone would be too confused to point out the fact that I am a.) hypocritical, b.) slightly misinformed and c.) kissing ass to Mr. Carnegie and making myself look dumb in the process. Mr. Carnegie is dead now sweeti, if you are going to kiss his ass, well then, you have a much stronger stomach than I do and some necrophilic motives prefer not to undertstand.

“Beware the man of one book.” An essay written as an ode to Mr. Terry Eagleton’s After Theory, my first suggestion would be to buy a few more books before founding your ideas on one man’s theories which may or may not be valid. (Then I could argue, but couldn’t all theories be either valid or not valid?)



I’ll continue this at a later date.

Beth survived Fances! yay! I was so worried for her, everyone was.

Watched Butterfly Effect the otherday, saw an img in the background that was all too familiar, went outside and threw up in the lawn.