shadow19's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Artistic tendencies. Sort of. Since I checked in last, I endured a three-day session of jury duty. The process, I have to admit, was pretty cool, though interminably slow. There were more breaks than court room action. I was all prepared to hunker down with lots of reading material, but we wound up with a non-stop talker on the panel (with a non-stop smoker's cough), and even when she was wasn't talking to me, it was too hard to block her out to read (and retain anything). She had an opinion on EVERYTHING...Clinton, Iraq, Hot Pockets, bottled water, restaurants, magazines, cops, lawyers, weather, buses, candy, child discipline, and blah, blah, blah. In the course of three days, I read one paragraph about twenty times. And still had to reread it when I got home. I had the worst headache of my life last week...so bad that I considered going to the hospital for a spell. So bad that it made me throw up. So bad that I went to bed at 8pm and never got up until morning. So bad that an Imitrex barely touched it. In summary, it was bad. Bad, I tell you. I can only assume that it was a PMS-induced migraine, possibly worsened by a severe weather situation, possibly worsened still further by floor sealer fumes at work. Man, oh, man...I made a few deals with God during that spell. (e.g., Please let this go away and I promise to eat more fruit. Stuff like that.) All weekend I teetered on the verge of cramps, coupled with general malaise. Finally, the real deal...the actual cramps, then a gradual return to actually feeling human. Sweet. Tonight, because it is threatening rain, we scooted off for a free brewery tour at the small-scale hometown brewery. (Free samples at the end!) As they trolleyed us to the "tavern," they made a quick stop at Sculpture Space, a warehouse where 2-4 artists can work 24/7. Cool. One guy is constructing glass booths in which he will place two people connected only by a 25 foot stethoscope. Another woman is tearing the guts out of phones and monkeying around* with them. (* Not her phrasing, but that's the gist of it.) It got me wondering what medium I'd work in, what subjects I'd explore. I'm thinking "toilets," as they are always rearing their ugly heads in my dreams. Never there when I need one. Non-functional or exposed when I find one. Overflowing when I use one. That sort of stuff. Should I apply for a grant? Don't answer that one. I hear some hot fudge calling my name. Ah...medium #2. 7:24 p.m. - 2004-07-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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