~eightoutside

I am Jack's complete lack of enthusiasm.

I have a vague idea of some thing I'd like to paint, I do the stock waltz and adjust my plans accordingly, by which time it is almost certainly time to eat/walk the dog/be sociable/work and saved image sits awaiting use. I come back to it when I next have a moment and have no desire to paint what I was going to.

I think this is a god-sized combination of laziness, apathy and an inferiority complex. I haven't painted for so long and the last things I painted were (I think) so much better than what I usually do, I'm terrified I'll have to figure out how to achieve the same results again. Naturally the longer I leave it, the worse this feeling gets and the more of a reality it could become.

I find other things to do instead of painting, like writing journals, I consider writing something so I have something to submit here (which is clearly the wrong way aroud and has therefore avoided happening), I had a dream about making/painting something, it really wasn't very good.

Looking down the list of past journals on the right there I realise what an awful lot of bollocks I spout. I have a very strong urge to throw things (don't make the mistake of thinking I'm angry) or scream my throat out and hit the walls and 'aint' using a hammer like I used to, something that'll at least show a level of testosterone. Something that'll leave me exhausted and happy, and not sex, that's a different animal, if I don't sort this out I'll end up going out for a run...

And in other news...
[link] the guy who paints the pieces which stop me working, Willem van Scheijndel. This experience has proved to me, if proof was needed, that there is a world of difference between seeing a painting online and getting up close in person. I should really be getting out to more (any) galleries.

I sent a message to Willem van Scheijndel via his site, I wasn't sure what to say, 'just say whatever, Dutch artists are pretty down to earth' was the advice over my shoulder, 'yeah, with the ear-hacking and tall building leaping of off', was my response.

My sister is coming to visit this summer, I've promised to take her to the zoo (they're going to give me my own cage soon), and do touristy things. I'm looking forward to showing her around, I kind of like where I live, and I hesitate to use the word but I might even be proud, which is a totally new experience, I've never felt pride before because anything I was associated with wasn't something to be proud of, because I was associated with it. I think I might be proud of just living somewhere else and getting on with my life, not much I know but fuck it I'm happy and if that isn't something worth aiming for then I'm pleased to be facing the wrong way.

Things are changing, this week something I've wanted for a very long time is going to happen, it's going to seem trivial but it's just another little way I'm going to feel very content and peaceful, I really can't wait, it appeals to several of my desires and is something so stupid and simple it's absurd I've never had such a thing before, it will be, in a very pure sense, bliss.

Also I'll be getting a new record player soon, and a space to put it, away from the white devil hair The Dog sheds everywhere, now I just need to find a place which is as close to me as Brighton was when I lived in the UK and as well stocked for secondhand record shops.... I might have to emigrate. My record collection cannot realistically be described as a 'collection', that said I really want to spend a weekend listening to what I've got, The Postal Service and Lou Reed and Kyuss and Shellac and Slint and everything.


Found this in a random deviant's journal and it made me laugh so I put in my own answers. It's about how stupid I am.

[ ] Gum has fallen out of your mouth when you were talking.
[X] Gum has fallen out of your mouth when you were NOT talking. (I was thinking really hard)
[ ] You have ran into a glass/screen door. (No but I have been known to headbutt shop windows.)
[ ] You have jumped out/off of a moving vehicle.
[X] You have thought of something funny and laughed out loud, then people gave you weird looks.
[ ] You have ran into a tree.
[ ] It is possible to lick your elbow
[ ] You just tried to lick your elbow.
[ ] You never knew that the Alphabet and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star have the same rhythm.
[ ] You just tried to sing them.
[X] You have tripped on your shoelace and fallen.
[X] You have choked on your own spit.
[ ] You have seen the the Matrix and still don't get it.
[X] You didn't notice that in the last question "the" was spelled twice
[X] You just looked at it
[ ] Your hair is blonde/dirty blonde.
[ ] People have called you slow.
[X] You have accidentally caught something on fire
[ ] You tried to drink out of a straw, but it went into your nose/eyes.
[X] You have caught yourself drooling.
[ ] You've fallen asleep in class.
[ ] If someone says "fart" you laugh.
[ ] Sometimes you just stop thinking.
[ ] You are telling a story and forget what you were talking about
[ ] People shake their heads and walk away from you.
[ ] You are often told to use your "inside voice"
[ ] You use your fingers to do simple math. (I use my phone.)
[X] You have eaten a bug.
[ ] You are taking this test when you should be doing something important
[X] You have put your clothes on backwards or inside out, and didn't realize it.
[X] You've looked all over for something and realized it was in your hand, hair or pocket.
[ ] You sometimes post bulletins because you are scared that what they say will happen to you if you don't even when you know it won't happen to you.
[ ] You break a lot of things.
[ ] Your friends know not to use big words around you
[X] You sometimes tilt your head when you're confused
[ ] You have fallen out of your chair before
[X] When you're laying in bed, you try to find pictures in the texture of the ceiling.
[ ] The word "umm" is used many times a day.

What a week, totally loopy.

Monday I started getting a sore throat around the middle of the day. I hate having a sore throat, of all the symptoms I associate with having a cold it is the one I could really do without, a streaming nose is fine, I'll lay down, a headache I'll down paracetamol all day, but a sore throat has no loophole, eating, drinking, breathing and talking become painful and those are some of my favourite things to do.

So yeah, sore throat which progressivly got worse durig the day until I was phyisically unable to speak and in severe pain, not wishing to over-egg this but it was the most pain I can ever remember being in, nothing has come close. Pain anywhere else on my body is completely different, I can (I like to think, and this all gets a bit zen) distance myself from it 'oh, fiddle-dee-dee, my ankle hurts, fine, I'll ignore my ankle', like that and the pain does get noticably less. But no, throat pain doesn't work like that, so yes, Monday evening, severe pain. 'William are you sure you don't want to go to a doctor?' By which point I was writing messages on paper, which just got silly 'yer mum'. 'I'll be fine in the morning', ahahahahaha.

Tuesday morning, well I know I'd slept at some point between 3 and 5, I couldn't lay down or I'd choke on the contents of my nose as my throat was refusing to swallow and earlier attempts at sleep on Monday had seen me nearly drown in my own saliva-drenched pillow, there's a photo. So I got up at five and went to lay on the couch, accompanied by the dog who even in my obvious state decided not to let-up on the 'where-ever William lays, I will be there, to make sure he cannot get comfortable' regime he appears to have begun. Eventually I got some sleep, sitting up in bed. Day wore on, coughing began, felt good, like I was loosening something, throat sprays, pastels, painkillers and even the threat of Fisherman's Friends were used, still hurt like a fucker though. Anyway, went to work, that was fun.

Evening coughing, evening blood coughing and big solid lumps of what looked like stewed rhubarb, but far more green, coughing. Now I'm no nancy boy but when I start coughing up blood I'm inclined to think maybe I could casually mention it to a doctor, not because I'm concerned for my own health obviously but there might be something going around which the medical community should know about. So about 11 Tuesday evening the doctor is called, symptoms are explained and the diet of paracetamol and ice lollies descibed 'good, keep doing that, go see your doctor in the morning' were the detailed instructions. Slept sitting up, slept well, until the dog wanted to be where my knees were.

Wednesday morning: feel like King Kong atop the empire state building with a machine gun and godzilla's just turned up in his jet to help me, fuck yeah

The week has continued, I'm not well, I have headaches, a blocked nose and my thorat is rough causing ocassional coughing but also a far more gravely voice which is, well it's just great. But I can ride out these sympotms, because my throat doesn't hurt.

Friday went to work, long shift, 3 and a half hours, what? no one can work that long, it's madness I tells ya. Supervisor and huband are there to help and we're done in an hour and a half. Come home and retreve my piece o'cold pizza from teh fridge and a glass of rose (you know what I mean), eat pizza and decide upon the most inadvisable game ever: take box of assorted liqueurs and a pack of cards, the game is blackjack and when you've lost three hands you're picking one at random I'm not a doctor so I don't understand what was wrong with the person who thought that making a syrupy alcohol and containing it in a little dark chocolate bottle for actual human consumption, but there was something so very wrong with them. Anyway, good friday night that was.

Still trying to find out the artist responsible for the paintings on the office walls, Willem van S.....omething is as far as I've got, damn squiggly signature.

I'm listening to Fishing For Luckies by the Wildhearts, that always make me happy, it was one of the first albums I bought

I finished reading Lord Of The Flies, the last page is classic (if you've any intention of reading it and don't know how it ends already, don't read the next bit, no really, don't). So these kids are all covered in blood, look like hell and the island's on fire and the captain of this ship that's just arrived says "I should've thought that a pack of British boys - you're all Bristish, aren't you? - would've been able to put up a better show than that - I mean -" It's like that quote about submarines, I fail to remember who said it, some military guy in world war one I guess, Germany was using U-boats and he said that a boat the sailed underwater was underhand and 'damned un-English', I love that, I need to go find the whole quote. We may totally fucked but English and by crikey we're better than THAT.

Damn you grand theft auto, you've stolen my life, no fears, I've finished it now so my interest has slipped a little, although I do intend to play it again and every time I had the choice to kill or spare a character, I'll do the reverse this time around (a neat detail of the game I think).

I have that morning-after, fucked/sexy voice thing going on, which after a single drink at 6 yesterday evening, really shouldn't be happening. We're spending too much time in a Chinese restaurant, you say 'I'll have a whisky and coke, thanks' and they bring you a glass (which I'm guessing is about 2/3 of a pint) and it's half-full of whisky, then a little bottle of coke, not that I'm complaining.

Went to look around some offices on friday, as I'm meant to be keeping them clean (woo more money to add to the pile, the pay is stupidly good for the hours) as of this tuesday. The place is an art gallery, canvases on all the walls and glass display cases full o'sculpture all about the joint. There were a bunch of paintings by one guy in particular which kept making me ignore what was being said, really amazing stuff, I'm going to have to find out who they're by.

Anyway, keeping this short, time to go see what you've both been up to since I was last here

I've been worried sick.

I feel like a teenager sneaking in late, or a cat that's been out for a few days and know's you've been worrying.

Ok, an explanation, really, and as feeble an excuse for my absence as this is, I finally got hold of a ps3 and gta IV this week, so I've been Rockstar's bitch since then. My eyes are almost permenantly bloodshot, can't be good, anyway, lovely game. Also found out They're making a sequal to Mafia which was great.

Anyway, I have managed to paint something too, I'll put it up somewhen. Also I just went through my inbox and among all the splendid work there was one painting which made me realise I need to get off my arse and paint some more, so I'll be doing some more soon.

Went shopping yesterday (eugh, saturday in a city, where's my gun?). Bought some cool stuff, Lord Of The Flies by William Golding, The Heart Of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, and Making Money by Pratchett (finally out in paperback), The Band greatest hits A Scanner Darkly and some shoes Somehow, in the centre of Rotterdam there appears to be no art supplies shops

Finally, it's over, the ugly underside of what is otherwise a delightful population. The Netherlands are out of whatever footbll competition it was. No more airhorns or fireworks. The dog seems to be happiest about this, he perked up as soon as he heard they'd lost last night. Funny thing, 'well the Russian coach/manager/guy who drives the bus (I wasn't really listening) is Dutch, so...' oh well obviously that'd explain why you lost. I assumed that blaming anyone but the actual players was an English thing ''sall Sven's fault', but apparently not. Of course the beauty of this is that thanks to gta IV, I keep slipping in to a really bad 'Russian' accent