A devolution from portraiture to plagarism

Lessons reloaded – you only get out what you put in. At work on Friday I put away the music and forced myself to join whatever lunchtime topic was already in progress. The results were surprising: an invitation to post-work drinks (not accepted) and some extra-curricular material on lend. It’s not rocket science I guess. If you’re nice to people, they respond in kind. But the misanthrope in me (in me?) would rather be left alone. Why pretend? For the good of my income, my security, my family - present and future tense. Make believe on the corporate stage.

A few hours ago, Bruce asked, “If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?” The first thing being out of the question, we settled on thing number two and headed out the door to the Old Dutch Pancake House. And after one too many shrill voices and the jarring bark of a motorbike, we abandoned our bus stop vigil and came straight back home. There was a week’s worth of cleaning to do and it was weighing heavily on us both. We put in a solid hour and now I’m sitting against a black backdrop while Bruce sporadically blinds me with his camera flash. He’s practicing his portraiture and I’m becoming accomplished or something.

This is what I put in. I don’t pander now; I leave that up to the two million other online self-publishers. I don’t even research these things – is it two million or something else?

Last night we stumbled home drunk and it was only about 9:30. I ate a salad and we tried to watch Richard Linklater’s Fast Food Nation and I think we had a conversation. Then a long night of few winks. I nearly opted for staying in bed all day eating Twiglets but Bruce said we should walk to the café down the road and I was glad of it. Rose’s Café is a family-run operation, all plastic menus and fake flowers and food made with love and cheap ingredients. Put your faith in Rose and you get a mighty fine breakfast, I always say (starting now).

I’ve learned that a model can do more than starve and make eyes at the camera. She can write a post, practice banjo, pick her nose – whatever. Not everything has to be about sex.

Bowling, on the other hand! (?)

We went bowling last night and I started off strong. A spare on my first bowl and a strike on my second. Thereafter everything went downhill and with it a whole lotta Carling.

If this seems scattered, it’s because my job is too regimented and I’m going there tomorrow and I’m not going to try anymore unless it’s for money.

I mean.

What I meant is, keep on keeping on with the extra-curricular. Art is what separates us from the chimps and don’t let them tell you any different(LY, it’s differently). Don’t let them change you. Please don’t let them win.