Look at this doormat.
I fell down on the doormat laughing at this. My girl Diana lives upstairs. She said, on the way out, "Actually, they're really mean people. If you're locked out, they won't let you in..."
Pfffff! That's still...kinda funny. Good job, doormat.
This was what I looked like at 5 in the morning last...this morning. I was dancing, and very, very tired.
Omigod. What. Is more annoying than someone's blog. And if you're reading this, sorry for making us both assholes. Oh well. I guess it's just fun to read someone's journal, and fun to leave your journal around...
Oh shit! This is the first test footage for This is the Life, the short film I'm animating!
So I've been back about a month and I feel like my head is going to fall off with all this waiting. It's an existentially uncomfortable position to be in: you have a job doing what you love...and then you don't. And you start all over again. Which I guess is some kind of object lesson in something, but I don't really know what it is. So what do you DO with your vibrating string when you don't have a soundbox behind you or other strings to vibrate in sympathy with you? I wake up thrumming and I would like to make some art. So I guess you just start? Is that...is that how it works?
I've always been a little nervous that I lack ambition because I so enjoy sitting around drinking beer and reading books and making jokes. But I think maybe my ambition is just a little bent inward, and rather than loping ahead, chasing something. an ineffective ambition that only really kicks in in the morning, in order to make me feel like shit.