From the cross streets of St-Urbain (the beer) and Sherbrooke East (the street).

I've always been one of those people who have considered their sketchbook to be open to anyone who wishes to see it. I think that it might be a fault. Tonight I sat down (after a beer or two....or three) and decided to sketch. I am ashamed to admit that I've barely done so all summer. Increasingly I've noticed (read: in the past year it has become glaringly obvious) that all my artwork is "safe". In the back of my mind I have always pictured myself showing it to my parents, or worse, my grandparents. Nothing I've ever done has ever crossed that invisible "parent-acceptable" line I seemed to have set myself. It's not that I've consciously denied a certain vision to myself, it's more that it's never been within the realm of possibility somehow.

So tonight I told myself that I would just draw as though the only person who would ever see that sketches were me. And guess what. I will never EVER show them to my grandparents. It's not that I have some urge to prove that I'm daring or shocking. It's more that these are the things that are one my mind. The drawings felt more like journal entries done entirely for my satisfaction. These are some of them, please excuse the total shit pictures.

Not what about these is so bad? These pictures are such shit that you probably can't read the text, and that's okay. They add, but they aren't necessary. Ordinarily I would deny that these had anything to do with my personal life but that's a lie. They clearly aren't autobiographical but they didn't come from nowhere. I normally dislike artwork that is essentially a messy outpouring of personal emotion on the grounds that it is so personal that it nearly impossible to criticize so what the point of showing it? But thats not what these are. And that's not why I'm reluctant to post these.

So what ideal am I protecting? Who am I protecting? Myself? My family?

I dunno, I feel like I'm on to something but maybe I'll forget by the morning.

I decided to keep the Starbucks job. When it comes right down to it I like the job. It's a selfish decision. My coworker (who buys hook line and sinker the Starbucks Ideals) told me that as long as I'm working there, I might as well make the most of it. No experience is a waster and that what Im counting on. Oh, and I'll make lots of money. I'm a sellout. So deal with it.


David isn't home yet... where is he?