Geez… the weekend is a mere day away. I have a million and one art projects going at once, and I often wonder why I must put myself in this situation–the stress alone should drive me nuts, but it doesn’t. I learn that I am a master procrastinator, and that I procrastinate on the “important” things (like paying the bills, etc.) instead of my art projects (which, for the most part, are for pleasure only, mine or someone else’s). I’ve got my priorities straight.
I volunteered (and that is a correct term, seeing that the position is what business politely dubs an “internship”) to become the assistant to the art director and http://www.moondance.org, a quarterly e-zine. It’s an awesome ‘zine and a great honor… but I have been burning the midnight oil sending requests to artists whose works I’ve found on the internet, requesting their permission to use them to illustrate the written pieces for the next issue. Well… it must’ve been beginner’s luck on the first one, because the person responded within minutes of my having sent the email out, but my luck has since run out, because I’ve sent several emails to several people and haven’t even gotten an email acknowledging receipt of my inquiry nor a polite blow-off. Granted that there is no monetary compensation for allowing us to post their art, but y’know, I’d be pretty flattered if someone were to email me out of the blue, asking if they could post *my* artwork in their e-zine. Especially this one, which happens to be a very quality publication.
I left the office this afternoon and was greeted by a sprinkling of rain as I walked from the building I work in to the parking structure. It’s either kicked into higher gear since then, or enough sprinkling has taken place that the roads are now properly wet, and the cars make a swooshing sound as they drive by my patio doors.
Gabriel (my nine year old) is crashed on the couch, after struggling through several sheets of third grader homework, and then asking if he could take a nap. The poor li’l guy has a stuffy nose and isn’t feeling his best, and I’m sure the medicine that he got from his dad just prior to my arrival home had taken effect and was knocking him out. I could never figure out why those things either knock you out or make you bounce off the walls… and I’m not sure which state I would find most preferable… neither one, really… extremes don’t appeal to me much, at least not these days.
As I stare down at the fourth (and final, at least for now) of the ATCs I mentioned in my post yesterday, I am about to succumb to the call not of the wild, but of slumber… at least until the hubby comes home.