The other day, some long haired hippy kid walks up to me at the bus stop as i am crouched down taking some funky picture that i can't even find anymore (i just looked in my kodak easy- share for like 25 minutes. where is it?!? gone? kinda not so easy to share....) so check out the one at your right instead, if you will. It's just as groovy with my flair for wtf- so anyway this kid,
he asks me very friendly like if i am an artist. And do you know what i said?
NO. i said no. I am not an Artiste. That i just liked to take groovy pictures.
What i really meant was YES! yes i am an artist. maybe...Sorta. Except i work at Dewbug Daycare and i'm mostly a single mom wannabe carpenter (that never builds any houses but knows how if she needs to) Only i don't ever hardly - okay sometimes finish my artsy projects. Did i lose you? Or are you still with me....I know this is confusing for you. Sorry. I'm also confused...what the hell am i doing? What am I? who am i OMG is this a mid-life crisis???
I don't know (&don't really care) any way here is something i like to call the
Six Projects of the Apocalypse that keep multiplyin' into 6 more
this is during and God ONLY knows what's coming after this. All's i know is that i am some sort of bizarre artist who really loves making her funky art/strange things/found angels of dyed wood & broken mirrors. I love it as in can't really live without it. Even though i don't know what i'm gonna do with it once (if ever) it's done. Or i'm done with it or it's done with me.