Like, the silly dreams of childhood where you dreamed about all the things you would do as an adult...
I don't dream any more...
It's like, i'm an adult now... what's more is there to dream?
If anything i wish i was a kid more than and adult.
In freshman year of highschool, i thought it would be so cool to go off into a big city, join the art community and just live life as a renowned artist.
But i've found that the only way you get known is in through death...
I also calculated that if i dropped 3 seconds in breaststroke every year by the time i was 24 i could be in the olympics.
Where am i now?
I'm in a small commuter school w/ no art community to speak of... other than the freaks who chill out in the art center... and learning to become an art teacher.
And yes i am a freak b/c i chilled in an art lab from 3ish till 7:30. For 2 of those hrs i spend doing work... the next two i spend playing on the potters wheel, cursing at the pedle because the wheel was spinning beyond speeds which my pot could not survive.
*shrugs* ah well, i made a pot, i haven't made one since junior year (HS)... and my hands seem to remember everything. Habbit.
I still have clay on my jeans, and i have a lil smile on my face... saying, I'm damn proud of the mess i made.
I don't know what intriges me about messes. My room's a mess, my mind's a mess... I love making messes. And getting drity... pft, no prob Bob!
Man, getting my hands on the clay today, it was just... it was just comforting. It was like the way i used to swim. I enjoy it, i know what i'm doing... and i don't fucking care if the world is falling apart before me.
I have the clay in my hands, i fell the sandy texture between my palms and fingers... letting the water squease out of the spounge and watching the water smooth out across the forming clay.
Feeling my hands now... they are baby soft. B/c of the grains of sand in the clay, it's basically a sander across your hand, so it rubbs away your caulouses.
For people who feel like they've done a good days work seeing their hands blistered and red, for me it's feeling my hands and knowing i created something depending on how sensitive my hands are.
I've had my palms close to bleeding i've worked on the wheel so many times...
I don't recommend doing that, it hurts, and takes weeks to heal.
Well, time to go into the world of japanese... i can dream about the pot that i made and distoryed later... it's poor and short 2 hr life span...
CheZ