its 1am and i just landed a job bar tending. looks like ill be sticking around. i start tuesday.  i love when people tell me their secrets, so it seems like a suitable job.

a couch was confirmed for me in the city of new orleans. i picked up some chicory coffee from the grocery store. its brewing now. im using this cup of coffee to help me decide if i should buy a bus ticket. im counting on the flavor to stir something in my heart. because right now, all i am working with is the allure of ghosts, old buildings and a handful of vampire novels i read in high school.
i have until the sheriff comes to decide, which i have no idea when that will be.
there is freedom in having nothing.

ooohhh. look who got on the multiple choice for best artist for the daily city!

everything in my life is going to shit. all at once.
lawyers are on our case now, eviction is imminent.
i don't want to give in.
finding what you actually want to do with your life, and doing it is like hitting the top of maslow's pyramid. like the food pyramid, the top is where everything you actually want is. the sweetness.

except maybe im just trying to do it instead of having any viable success.
but that takes time, and time is no longer on my side.
i dont mind living in squalor, or pangs of hunger, but i need a quite place to hide and work.
living a life without passion isnt one worth living.
 the freedom from the oppression of rent has helped me make leaps and bounds in quality, at least. im not anywhere perfection yet, far, far from it, but there is a visible improvement since i quit my job and put my heart and soul into painting.
im debating if i should just break in another foreclosed home, and make it my own. or just leaving. my friend said i could sleep on her couch in nola awhile back. emailed her to see if thats still an option.
i can sell paintings on the street, lurk in old graveyards and drink chicory coffee.
a new city would be nice, i want to be anonymous for awhile.
i just dont want to be a couch surfer leech in orlando.
if im homeless, i may as well go somewhere beautiful.
vanish and work.
there was some good stuff, but, like everything else good thats been happening to me, it all gets scraped, because the avalanche of feces keeps washing it away.

wendy models for me, ive been wanting to paint her since ive met her.

got a new model, im excited to paint her. my roommate is like Casanova, so there is always an influx of pretty girls in my house.
i will be a working woman again soon. i got a job while drinking beers with the owners of the falcon. i whined that they should serve coffee, so i could stroll and drink coffee down there like an art fag. so they are making me their barista!
a college degree gave me the skills to work in a few cafes before. they are giving me free range to create my own set up too. so i am going to make it super snobby with high end coffee, french pressed. it will only be 4 hours a day, so ill still have time to paint while single handily taking down the starbucks a block away.
this job will fund my escape. i had another incident walking home again. sex offender on the prowl. i want to move somewhere that has decent public transportation or at least somewhere thats not chock full of rapists and muggers. since then, im carrying a big hunting knife around with me, because i really dont want to get raped, and be doomed to have to listen to tori amos songs 24/7.
my friend was coincidentally teaching me how to quickly blind people, and showing me what points of the human body to go for a few weeks ago. but i was to busy giggling to soak it in, apparently good looking boys with weapons just tickles me pink.
i intend to act purely on straight animal reaction.

but on a brighter side, my friend came over to model for a commission and her baby started peeing in the middle of it, which i caught on camera. she also allowed me to take a picture of me pretending to eat her baby.

i cant sleep, due to a panic attack. so stressed out because a fucking bumper. and the money i need to pay in two weeks for it. afraid im going to lose out on two good opportunities because of the strain, and not being able to put the money where it needs to go to have a chance to climb out of living in squalor.
my experiment of ceasing to drink only left me with the clarification that its not even close to the root of my problem. i think its just a inherent chemical imbalance. i got sick of staying at home and goggling where my cerebellum is located, and reading about failure rates and effects of self inflicted gunshots to the head. i came to the verdict that once im back in the black, im going to go to the doctor and try out an antidepressant, even though i think that shit is mostly horrible. i have been working alot, and will have new paintings up shortly, im just working on a new way that takes twice as long until completion.

i think i went slightly insane today. maybe its my brain working again, or maybe it has something to do with me being to lazy to do my dishes, thus i am drinking coffee out of a bowl now, grossly increasing my coffee consumption on an empty stomach.
met up with a guy opening up a new gallery today. i want to make the transition into showing in galleries, versus sandwich shops. though, the sandwich shops arent bad for sales.
while i was waiting for the owner to show up, i was sitting outside. a scruffy looking man with a meth vibe comes walking up to me. i assume he is going to ask me for a smoke or bus money. orlando is riddled with homeless people. he then asks me if i was hungry and he would buy me something to eat if i was.
sadly, this is not the first time a homeless person offered to buy me lunch.
i guess i look like shit.
last week i spent most of it alone. i plan to do the same this week. i love it. i got tweeked on canned coffee from the asian market tonight, and walked around sleeping neighborhoods, smelling flowers, watching ducks.

been in hiding all week mostly. painting. the few social attempts i made were short and limited. drinking juice at a bar is boring, everyone is less funny and unattractive.
i had a photo shoot with marcus adkins. he is doing a series on local artists. we went to the graveyard to shoot. my choice of location is very angsty high school photography class style. the photo he took turned out fucking epic. it will be released in two months time. i think it will be my press photo if i ever become famous.
sent some stuff to ny. hopefully it will be received well there.
i also started filming stuff to put in my friend's movie about my life.
i captured this today.

this morning i woke up, after i dreampt of getting wasted. i was waiting for the wave of nausea and subsequent back thrash of self hatred. then i remembered i stopped drinking. and i dont feel like shit on Saturday morning. in fact i am probably adequately hydrated since i went to a vitamin water fashion show my friend put together. i bought my big purse, like a cheap grandmother so i could loot lots of bottles of vitamin water. i like feeling good physically. its different. i just ask the bartenders now to put my soda in a fancy glass so i look cool and disguised in my sobriety.
nobody is the wiser since i act like an asshole 24/7 anyways.
so, after having a really shitty day, i had a really good day yesterday. i got my foodstamps reinstated, so i will not starve to death, the guy's car i hit isnt an asshole, and its going to cost half of what i expected. my roommate is back from ny, and isnt mad at me about the car, and might just put the dent on his insurance. my roommate is to nice, all i do is hide plastic spiders in his room, or set up traps around the house because he has a serious phobia. for some reason he still likes me.
i got really good news, i am going to be in a show in NY, and my collector and friend is going to be starting a gallery in a hot spot in town there and wants my stuff. it might be the breakthrough i need to live a notch up from a cockroach.
also, i am a finalist in the local pbr contest. i won some things.

my friend from seattle came for a visit, i took some photos  to paint. ive always thought he looked like a vampire, there is something evil about his face i am drawn to. we share the same love of the night, pasty skin and most likely vitamin d deficiencies.

so i fucked up pretty bad. being a new driver, and a woman on top of that, i got flustered and bumped into a car on my way to fedex. the small bullshit bumper dent is going to cost me a fuckload of money i dont have. i left a note, because im not a piece of shit, but i wish i was a piece of shit. hopefully they will be cool about the situation, cause it wasn't my car, and i have to pay out of pocket. at least looking at a grand. i have 42 dollars in my bank account right now. ugh.
this would be a proper time to make the downward leap into prostitution.

ive decided, once and for all, to give up boozing. i know its probably written in this blog a thousand times over. but for real. for at least two months. ive made it a week since i last woke up hating myself, and wondering why i dont chew my food better.
it kills my brain, and my productivity. i am capable of saying inappropriate things and making horrible judgment calls without the aide of alcohol. so whatever.

sobriety is alot like being 14 again. you cant go in bars, so you have to find something better to do, like sneak around dark places at night. my friend just gave me a cat cam for a film she is making about me and my art. so i can document my outings. my other recently went sober friend and i decided to have an adventure, which at some point ended up with him climbing into a freshly dug empty grave.
this is the alternative to drinking apparently.
unfortunately i am to stupid to figure out a simple camera, made for children, with two buttons, so all was lost. i conquered the uncomplex piece of machinery the following day, successfully capturing the candy aisle at 711, which i am assuming will be the bulk of my footage.

good news:

•  gallery in melborne want more of my stuff, because it sold.
•  i have a solid line up of beautiful friends who agreed to model.
•  my gynecologist said i was cool.