I spent a lot of energy worrying about how to make various decisions in my life, and my Mother gave me the (apparently) excellent advice to just wait. It turns out that these things do sort themselves out given time. I really don't need to be doing Russian Lit. as I want nothing to do with literature aside from reading it for my own personal enjoyment.

Charlie bird hates me right now. Maybe if I was one of those people with constantly hot, slightly sweaty hands this relationship would be moving along faster. I think I'm a slightly uncomfortable place for a coldblooded creature to live. He'll get over it.

The room has really major lighting issues.

Drawing got a bit irritating the other day, what with talk of "What is Art?" That always just puts me way off. Most art that has an intentional message is crap. And then it led into a discussion of belief and faith in a religious context. I ended up reworking my drawing for that assignment (a Self Portrait, that conveys Self, and uses words and some skeletal structure) and scrawling Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn" all over it. The words are mostly illegible gestural interpretations of words, but it resolves into clarity at the end, just in time to scream loudly "Beauty is truth, truth beauty..." I'm not entirely happy about this, but its one drawing in one class. so. And it's starting to work as a graphic element.

So now I figure I should actually Read some Keats.

hmph.