Suffering for my art

And by that I mean my back really hurts from hunching over while trying to create things while sitting in bed.

Once upon a time I had an art desk and an easel, and they totally went unused because just as my parents got them for me, I stopped doing anything arty. I go in phases, really, and now seems to be a particularly creative phase. Though if my friend Carrie hadn't commissioned me to create things for her house, I'd probably have spent the last few hours doing nothing instead of making some really cool martini prints for her kitchen.

It's nice to have a purpose as well as an outlet. Being unemployed has left me feeling like more of a loser every day. Sure, sleeping in is great. Even watching midday soap operas hasn't gotten old yet. But by 7 the post-supper blues have set in. Tonight I tivo'd everything I would have watched and meandered through hours of crappy other TV so that I could watch the good stuff later. Like now. The crappy other stuff that's on in primetime is infinitely superior to the crappy stuff that's on after the 10 o'clock news. And I don't have to suffer through commercials.

I never really did anything creative to decorate my own places. Funny how now that I have some free time I'm going buck wild with ideas for Carrie's place. I have four fairly bare walls in my room now. You'd think I'd make myself something. Not so much. Instead I bought a few travel posters and put them up. Now I can look at all the exciting places I'll never get to go.

There is however the Ireland wall. Formerly filled with just plain posters. But since I picked up hard copies of all 300 pics I took in Ireland, I can now find ways to plaster some of my fabulous postcard-esque pics around the place. ... Maybe I'll do that now!