smothered hope

And so I triumphantly return from my first screen printing session in (count 'em) ten years! Oh, wait; I appear to have started this entry in the middle. Oops.

Many moons ago, my roomie, Kurt, and I went halvsies on a silkscreen and some ink. We were lacking in any sort of medium required to create a design on the screen, but we had big plans. I think that we were going to start with a photo emulsion print of his (now ex-)girlfriend's face. Of course, that plan fell through with the relationship, and the screen gathered dust in a corner for a while. I tried to rig up a cheap ghetto screen, but the results were blotchy and uneven ("ghetto," one might even say). So I biked my arse down to the British Blueprint Company and picked up the cheapest and easiest medium I could find: drawing and blocking fluids.

Now, back to where I started: After drawing a simple outline from a photo I found in a magazine, I took three pulls. They're not awful, though they're not the greatest things I've ever created. Then again, I just looked through my portfolio from my aborted Fine Arts certificate, and I guess age does loan a little something. I certainly haven't worsened. My eye has definitely improved. Now I just need to sharpen my lines and get some fabric inks.

My sewing machine is still fubar'd, but a friend said she'd come by sometime soon to see if she can't fix it. (She may even loan me one or both of her machines for the month of September, while she's off travelling with her guy in Europe. Egads!) I'd be lying if I said I'm not antsy to have that machine in working order again; I'm really enjoying making prints, only I long for something I have more experience with, something as comforting as sewing is to me. And besides, I'd like to make myself some Hot, Back-To-School Fashions!

Speaking of hot new looks, who wants to cut my hair? No, real hairdressers only, please. I've done the whole "DIY mental patient" haircut thing, and now I want something that will look good for more than a week. I'm too poor to pay a salon, but I'll be happy to trade something nice for a haircut, like a tote bag, f'rinstance. (I make really cute ones.)

Also wanted: a patron. You support me, and I'll make all kinds of wonderful things for you, like pants and tote bags and screen prints and apple crisp and anything else I'm good at. I don't expect anyone to accept the position, but hey, I'm just tossing it out there. I'm not looking for a sugar daddy or anything, just free money. You know, like the rest of us....

I could go on with a list of things I want, but in all honesty, it's the necessities I'm most worried about. Yesterday I was an emotional mess with worry, but today I've simply resigned myself to the fact that shit happens. I'll live. I'll work it out. If I don't, will I stop breathing or my heart explode? Of course not. Things aren't always comfortable, and it's upsetting as hell sometimes, but unless I'm actually willing to suck a shotgun, I have no choice but to push on. I love the survival instinct; it always knocks the sense back into me when all else fails.

I will make one complaint, however: I'm sick of having to think about me and my needs all the time. I just want to learn and work and help. I can't wait for school to start; only four more days....

back | forth

listening:
reading:
ingesting:
(see entries before 20.11.05)

previously on Smothered Hope:

unreal - 20.05.08
in which our narrator kinda just babbles on a bit - 15.05.08
drank several margaritas last night. they were great. - 04.05.08
spacey - 29.04.08
i will most definitely regret posting this in public - 28.04.08