The circus is just horrible all around.

Clowns are so creepy. Who the fuck would want them around? I feel like the circus is just a bunch of scary danger. You've got people flying through the air, you've got wild animals all caged up, which, call a spade a spade, is cruel.

Then you have people dressed in strange clothes, wearing odd make up and wigs. They're supposed to be hilarious and make people laugh.  Clowns are a colorful reminder that another human could take a life and not think twice. Thanks for the memories.

They even have a scary emoji, the emoji of terror and murder. 🤡

When I die, I want a New Orleans style funeral with a parade like in 007 Live and Let Die. I also decided today I want the country of Mexico to make pinatas that look like me on that day. They can make my hair curly or straight.

I never know what to do.

Talent means you're good at something; you have ability.  Being creative means that you have ideas and the will to try things.  It begs the question are naturally creative people talented just because they have the will to create?  Or, are some creative people impotent as they lack ability?

I have Talenti gelato.  Actually, one of my professors used his old Talenti containers to demonstrate the law of large numbers using dice in the empty vessels.  He liked vanilla.  I only like chocolate.  I wrote a poem that included the idea of the law of large numbers.  

     

It's Tricky

Not only is it tricky to rock a rhyme that's right on time, but it's tricky to navigate through the day in a bad mood.  I've noticed that I can be kind to everyone and that's effortless for me.  But it's difficult to make small talk or friendly banter with people I don't care for.  I guess that makes me a stone cold ice queen, albeit a genuine, sincere one.

I went to the grocery and made chicken soup.  It's kind of bland, but the last batch I made tasted too much like the vinegar-based marinade I use for chicken.

Anyway, I burned my tongue tasting the broth so I could season it and I ate a gummy worm and it cured the burn.  So that happened and now we know a potential delicious cure for those pesky tongue burns.

It would be great if these people wouldn't sue me.  It took me like 10 minutes to do this on my phone.  Plus, I'm pretty sure the proponents of this book and it's ideas have to forgive me.  I think you won't get into the good place unless you forgive scumbags like me who mock everything.  There's lots of orifices in the human body.  Plus, I have a burned tongue.  

Salami in the tub

Girl, you'll be a woman soon. 

I am trying to do a painting in the style of Roy Lichtenstein.  If I was younger, I would've had to go to the library and look all of this up, but thanks to the internet and specifically Wikipedia, I know his name is pronounced with the last part sounding like the word price (STEIN sounds like price instead of sounding like clean).  

I also learned that this is called Ben-Day style after Benjamin Day who lived in the 1800s and then I lost interest.  I mean, didn't we all?

Back to Lichtenstein:

I like the colors in the Brad one.  

The Kiss V one I actually got to see in Seattle at their awesome art museum.  

I took this photo not realizing we weren't supposed to photograph the Lichtensteins at all.  

That was an amazing trip and when I saw the Jackson Pollock "Sea Change," it was the first time I ever got emotionally moved by a painting to the point where I started crying.  I felt a kinship to him.  

All I could think about was how lonely it must've been to throw gravel on a painting.  Not many people use gravel in paintings, or would think to, and when you're not like the many, sometimes, I suppose, it might be lonely.  

  

I'm a little snowed in, apparently

I was at the craft store at 8:49 this morning waiting for them to open at 9.  I'm watching The Bridges of Madison County and Meryl Streep is just gorgeous.

The message I'd like to send the world today: just because you look like Janice Joplin doesn't mean you can cross the street on the green light, you slow bitch.  I guess it's specifically to that pedestrian.  I'm actually a really nice person though, but very self-centered.  I'd love to tell you I'm working on that, but I am okay with it, so no work is being done at this time.

It's a great comfort in life to know a friend's laugh doesn't change.

 

Warmth/Mistakes

We all make mistakes and sometimes make the same mistakes over and over and over.  It's never too late to pick it up, start again, paint over the tainted canvas.

There is warmth
within some people.
We are like
downy, dreamy blankets
laid on babes
by mothers' arms.

I really only wear those white Converse anyway, so what the actual fuck?

Are the shoes like neurons in my brain?  Science and shoes: two things I've always welcomed into my life with passion and love and gratitude.  I can buy new shoes but can't buy new parts for my nervous system or even generate most of them, if I recall.  

Digging Pink "Just Give Me a Reason," although NOT as good as on my friend's supersonic speakers.

I cleaned my toilet and will smell like bleach the rest of my life, no matter how much I wash myself.  I don't ever want to go to prison and if I did, I'm not sure I'd make or drink toilet wine.  I can't say for certain as I can't imagine the despair I'd feel to be locked away.

Shoe police coming for me?