The Beginning of My Career

Hooray! I've just finished yet another greyscale painting. This one was much simpler than the last one I did--very straightforward lighting and composition; no ambiguities to work around; figures in easy-to-draw positions. The only challenge with this one was the atmosphere. I was going for a hazy evening feel. Something ethereal. Something uncharacteristically pretty, for me, anyway. The problem was getting that look without having everything blur up together. I put an interesting, snaky plant in the background, and that anchored everything. Its writhing roots lent some action to the static figures, and its spiraling tendrils brought some interest to the murky depths. (Well, that was the intended effect, anyway. One never knows with these things until a couple of years have gone by, the book's already in print, everyone's already seen it, and it's too late to do a damn thing about the mistakes. It's the Murphy's law of illustration.*)

Well, I refuse to be embarrassed anyway, whatever I've done wrong in these pictures (and I won't kid myself--there's probably a lot.) But I've seen a lot worse than my work out there, and my career is just beginning. The average Joe on the street is going to love this stuff, and, hey, I was hired for a reason, wasn't I? If I refused to have my work out on the market before it was perfect, I'd find myself still unemployed at forty. Yeah, maybe it's a copout in one way, accepting less than sheer brilliance, but dammit, I'm not going to see it that way. I'm just not up for sheer brilliance yet. I'm doing my best, and I'm getting my money. Ten years ago, I couldn't draw at all. So I think I've earned the right to be pretty happy with myself.

I didn't eat any potatoes today, and missed them sorely. Ordinarily, I try to eat potatoes in one form or another every day**. I love potatoes. They are hands-down my favourite food, especially baked with sour cream, chives, bacon, butter (not margarine!), and cheddar cheese. I wanted to get those potatoes again that I had the other night, but not only did they give me heartburn, but they got me yelled at. For not taking care of myself. I DO take care of myself--what am I supposed to do, never try eating anything new on the offchance it gives me heartburn? Fuck that. Fuck that hard. (Excuse my language. I'm being extraordinarily rude tonight...I'd better stop. I've already way exceeded the four-fuck rule.)

At any rate, I had toasted French bread, goat cheese, and roasted garlic for dinner tonight. It was delicious. But they didn't put enough garlic in. I'd eaten all the garlic after the second slice of toast, and there were four. Ah, well. It was still tasty with just the goat cheese, so I wasn't that honked about it.

I got some money orders in the post today from some people who'd ordered prints from eBay, but I couldn't be arsed with going to the Money Mart just to cash fifty bucks' worth of MOs. I'm going to wait until I get my next cheque from Misguided Games, then cash everything together. I sent them the second CD full of images today, so it shouldn't be long.

One thing I did do today, though--I had a crack at cleaning the bathroom. Yes, that's right: I did it myself. I did not hire anyone. I did not beg anyone. I got my Lysol, my Comet, some old rags, and a manky toothbrush, and set to it. It's fair sparkling, now. I'm almost afraid to take a shower, in case all the nasty green copper deposits I scraped off the bottom of the bathtub come right back again. My ugly tailless rat, Shakespeare, slept in my pocket the whole time. She has been very depressed lately, since both of her cagemates died of viral pneumonia, and does little other than eat and sleep. It's sad to watch her. She sits there with her nose down, getting fatter and fatter every day. I've been trying to keep her spirits up by playing with her as often as possible, but there hasn't been too much time. Poor little rat. I'd buy another one to keep her company, but I'd just have to resell both of them next month when I go to Sweden.

Other than that, it's been an uneventful day. Both the Takeout Taxi man and the UPS man flirted with me, but I pretended not to notice. I also told the Takeout Taxi man that I needed a plastic fork because my mother wasn't home and I didn't know how to run the dishwasher. It didn't stop him from hitting on me, though. Probably because I paid with my credit card. People with credit cards don't tend to be underage.

I went out briefly, to the 7-11 for some apple juice. That was exciting, in a being-outdoors sort of way. I almost forgot to put that in. Overall, I'd call it a good day. Got loads of work done, and still have time for a fair bit more. Which I am now going to do.

* [Footnote added in August of 2005] - Several years removed from this painting, I must confess I was mistaken. The greyscale paintings I did back then were my first professional assignment, and I wasn't quite ready. Some of them were very good, all things considered. Others were bloody awful. And my monitor was calibrated wrong, so they all looked dreadful in print. Ah, well. Live and learn.

** [Footnote added in August of 2005] - Still true!