Sigh. Another last minute day. The sad part is that I started something I was excited about, but by 11:30 pm I knew it was NOT going to get finished. Great.
Edit: I just remembered that I also started a different project this morning but left it to go out and ended up being gone all day. Point is, today has been a day of double disappointment, art-wise. Non-art-wise, it was rather a good day! (Yes, I did just use the dreaded -wise. Twice! Take that, sophomore English class! Take that,
The Lively Art of Writing! You know, that book has haunted me? But only the -wise. I only ever remember the -wise bit of that book. So weird. Alright, end of tangent).
Since I had my dictionary out already, I just pulled out my trusty black Sharpie and got to work on something before the day was over (ok so I still technically finished this after midnight, but I'm counting it).
I happened to already be on the page that said "introverted" on it, and for me that word recalls my somewhat pathetic, awkward, and lonely years between, maybe... fourth grade and tenth grade (after that I was still pretty awkward and a bit lonely, but not quite so pathetic. Oddly, I think I've regressed and I'm back to all three), so I began drawing a depressed looking silhouette. I then realized that for a lot of people, introversion is not depressing, but perfectly fine and even something to be proud of, so I decided to flip to the "depression" page and up the melodrama. Aaaw yeah. (Click on the photo for an enlarged image where you can read the words).
Actually, looking at this now, I think it would be better if I black out the entire opposite page as well, so the darkness seems even more enveloping. Meh, too lazy. It's late and I'm off to bed.
Post Script: I would like to add this for any of those who are tempted to lecture me: yes I do occasionally destroy books in the name of art. Only one of them has been a book I actually took off a shelf, decided it would never again be read, and designated as an art book. All others have been bought at thrift stores with the express intent of using them for art, and they were sad, lonely,
introverted books like dictionaries or medical tomes that likely would have languished there for ages before making their way to a dumpster, etc. So in effect, I am
saving books when I turn them into art!
Trust me, I have thought about this decision. I dearly love books; they were my closest friends throughout those years I mentioned earlier. And I mean, books make gorgeous art! Sometime I'll do a post about book artists that are amazing. I find that seeing books as art just increases my awe towards them.
Hooray books!
