For the first time in a few years, I have actual, real, not-fake free-time. It's a freaky sensation. I've decided to use this brief period between school and (hopefully) work to learn how to do some things well. It turns out the reason I haven't done this already is that self-improvement is hard.
Since my roommates moved out, I can actually play my guitar with the amp turned on, which is cool, but it also means the volume of my playing is loud enough to remind me that I'm not very good. I mean, wait, no, I rock! Yep... Totally rockin' on the guitar. That's me, alright.
I'm also working on my drawing skills. This is a little more urgent, since I'm trying to transfer into an art major. Fortunately, I have the $100,000 Animation Drawing Course on my side.
Mostly, though, I played through Jill of the Jungle for the fourteen-millionth time today.
Gimmie a break. This is my free-time.
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4 comments:
self improvement is a bitch, and it chooses very select people to disregard in order to ruin our lives. like a sexual disease on a married man. exactly like s sexual disease n a married man. any other synonym is absolutely wrong.
I read a book once in which the main character, an aspiring artist or teacher or writer or something, got a job as an instructor for an art school. He lived in a couple's house and 'graded' mail-in samples from 'students' who paid to have critiques, but he wasn't supposed to be too harsh.
Do you have any idea what I might be talking about? I seem to remember it was a good, but long, book.
Googling "novel art school mail grades" did not help.
No clue.
erotica? was it erotica? (i think it was!!)
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