Yesterday, I was a a sharp shooter, as soon as a target popped up, I’d take it down. I cleansed my to-do list with a vengeance. The first half of today started the same. The latter half, though, the latter half left me deflated.
Why she’s upset, I don’t know, I can only guess. Upset she is, though, and my heart aches for it. The rest of today has been dedicated to pizza and beer with a teensy bit of coping.
I’m surprised I’m writing anything here. I agree it’s part of my new found coping practice, precedent has writing much further down the list. Far far Behind video game abuse, wonton sulking, and doing absolutely nothing. So, yeah, I’m surprised and relieved to be doing something.
I’m in an art class at school. It is the most basic art class I could find. I chose something basic because it was summer semester and I figured I could coast. An easy class that wouldn’t conflict with work or spread me too thin. Yup, that was the plan.
Since then I’ve learned a few things. Enduring boredom is the hardest work anyone will ever do. In sitting still four hours at a time and listening to my art teacher parade before us the art icons of the past, I cannot help but liken the class itself to sitting through a church sermon. Not just any sermon either, the kind where the pastor is oblivious to his audience and speaks only to himself. There’s no real point to what is being spoken, just references and allusions as they dawn on him and help to fill the time.
In my time clinging to what’s left of my sanity, I couldn’t help but to expound on the theory between the similarities of art and religion. Things like piety, faith, transcendence, I want to write something about it, one of those substantial essays I was alluding to in my prior post.
One of these days I’ll get to it, just like I’ll write a kids book, and make more masterpieces, earn a decent living, and find some peace of mind. Yeah, right after all those things and whatever more occurs to me in the mean time.