Children's book stuff. Not one of these bunnies made the cut. He isn't friendly enough yet.
I enjoyed the camping experience most thoroughly. It gave me some much needed thinking time. I left with strange bruises. I have pictures but those are for another day, another place. One severely sad thing happened on the camping trip- my birkenstocks finally succumbed to 4 years of abuse, as the soles were finally worn through to the point that my right heel was just walking on the ground. I plan on buying a new pair and wearing those for about a million years before they wear out. Also, it was time for them to go, because after I got home and slept a bit, I woke up and my feet had broken out from poison ivy (or poison something I hope). So, I'd rather not just keep giving myself poison whatever, seeing as those cork soles absorb everything in proximity to them. Water, dirt, little kids, whatever.
I am kind of enjoying being home for once. It's always a startling reminder of who I used to be. Sometimes that's a good thing, sometimes bad. I'm getting a hair cut before I go back to school (just trimmed, just trimmed), which reminded me of junior year when all my hair was chopped off and the boys stopped liking me. Everyone thinks I'm exxagerating when I say I looked like Corey Matthews, and every female friend or old lady tells me it was the best haircut ever. Looking back, I loved that it was completely devoid of any maintenance, and I suppose if there was a role that called for a 16 year old little orphan annie I would have been in business, but come on now... bad move-
I look like Justin/Matt/McLean
I don't know what's going on in this picture.
But anyhow, it's good for me to see these and other reminders of every strange and awkward time in my life, to hope that I can learn from mistakes, and never cut my hair short again.
Sketchbook things once I get set up this weekend at Ringling. And then making a cake for John Ofori, since I missed his birthday.