It’s not done yet (still a lavender layer and a pale blue layer to go) but I just thought this most recent radial kinkade is so pretty as it is, that I should post an unfinished teaser image.

Starting from the center, I layered on bright yellows, greens, bits of bright pink, ultramarine blues, oil slick taupes, an ombre of turquoise, rusty browns with pops of red, and increasingly lighter shades of sand and ended on dirty whites. I love the really concentrated vividness of the center but what really defines this piece, I think, is the turquoise interacting with the brown. Wow that was a porny description of the whole thing. Ah, well, it’s rather late.

Really horrid nightmare last night. I dreamt I was shopping in a VirtuWorld that was basically Ikea. Everywhere was softly and florescently white-lit and there were little minicomputer terminals every few feet so that you could add things to your online shopping cart. There was a siri-esque voice that played out over the loadspeaks and terminals occassionally, reminding you of bargains and giving warnings when you go over your price or weight limit or you are going to buy something that will clash with the rest of your house. There are ~Ikea employees too, that all look like Subway from Community who are chipper and helpful but also have an underlying menace to their stance and demeanor.

So I am browsing and recieve a warning simultaneously from the employee and siri-voice for one thing or another and eventually find myself in a cafeteria in VirtuWorld. A slightly less white-lit place, with soft kelly green outdoor cafeteria benches (you know, the kind that is rubber covered wire in diamond patterns that transfer to your butt) and sit down for a light, airplane-foody meal. (all the utensils are those corn starch breakdown kind that turn white where you chew on them) As I ruminate, a man (Ducksauce) sits down beside me and offers to sell me some mangas. These are off-brand, awkwardly-drawn anime characters mixed with almost familiar cartoons depicting martial arts fantasy fighting in urban settings or out in fields. I looked again at my surroundings, and I realized that Ducksauce had tricked me, and that his comic books were actually viral spams and now I am trapped in an ad world where bad events played out (taken from my subconscious) in order to weaken me to buy or click on things.

The one I experienced before waking up is one where I am in a white-lit hair salon in the Denault family futuremanse. Roland is sitting on some modular, Nuni-type furniture watching me handle his kids. I decide to bond with Grace by offering to dye her hair platinum blonde (along with her eyebrows), She consents to dying half her hair, to see if she likes it, and I eagerly employed my youtube cosmotology knowledge and set to brushing her hair with diluted bleach and wrapping it in crisp aluminum rectangles. After a new york minute, I take her by the hand and skip to the sinks, washing out her hair carefully so as not to get any in her eyes. It turns out perfectly on the left side, so she gives me permission for the right side. As we skip back, I offer Graham honeyed highlights for his light brown mop. He laughs at the notion and declines. I brush on the bleach for the right side and touched up the eyebrows, but for some reason it works much faster on this side and I grab Grace’s hand again, this time pulling her to the sink to wash it out.

I could see her slight curls practically evaporating as the bleach ate up her hair. As I washed the right side, the bleach kept eating so that a small sliver, the size of a pen cap, of raw, red scalp flesh showed up on the top right of her head. She kept trying to pull her head out of the shower of water, convinced the burning was being worsened by it, but I held her down while furiously scrubbing her hair, a huge bald patch blooming on her right side, whilst she kept exclaiming “I don’t want this!” or something like that. As I maniacally scrubbed where her hair should have been, all I could think was — Now I’m Fucked.

The move-out date is a little more than two months away, but I’m slowly sorting and packing the easy stuff whenever I go over to my house. It’s fun like shedding. My room has become a big moldy soup of dust, webs (cob and spider) and roark remnants in my absence. Here are pictures of the process thus-far. 

Lots of fun swaths of foam padding and boy sheets, courtesy of short-time inhabitant Tristan. He left me many useful things, such as a poster of two rhinos humping, an XL sized men’s bathrobe in black, various pieces of Irish and shamrock themed clothing, so many other things. Roark loves those foam pads, as evidenced by the hundreds of dead fleas embedded within.

Here’s what I have packed and ready to go so far. 

All the books that didn’t make the cut. Someone at a party always picks up the Female Orgasm and rifles through it, hoping, no doubt, for tips. What you get instead is poorly collected scientific data arranged in charts. This reminds me of when school districts all across Texas tried to transition from calling charts ‘charts’ to calling charts ‘visual diagrams’. What a waste of teeth and time! It’s like when Madonna tried to get everyone to call her Esther. 

And to bottom things off — Roark, fresh from a bath

pack clothes
gather paintings and strip canvases 
pack and store art supplies
pack and store other drawered stuffs in my room
wash sheets and random clothes
take down and consolidate wall items
gather kitchen stuffs - utensils, plates, cups, cookware
use up all the food possible, pack the rest (spices, non-perishables)
organize, throw away and store books
organize, throw away and store DVDs
figure out what furniture to keep
go through garage
go through laundry room
clean everything!
find a home for rufio

This layout tweak is based on the greens of Rite in the Rain field note journals. I haven’t used them yet, but I know just know deep down in my country heart that these babies are the crème de la crème of pocket-sized waterproof journals. I think I’ve decided that this will be the everything blog. Was debating starting a new little something for moving into the apartment in august (possible names included: 5th&5th, unitsix, eggwhiteflat, blyss+this) and maybe another something for all the artstuffs I’ve been churning out. But no, I think that each blog would be too lean and I would prefer one chubby blog to three stringy ones (probably). But we’ll see. August is still three-ish months away and I may think of a name or concept so good that I just have to use it (probably not).