local lady artist. paint chips, garbage cans, texty words, transfers, colour, dying paint pens, exotic excuses, and the feminine mystique.
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managing my time with the idea that free time will be spent creating something. my mind floats listlessly into the vast creative blender. sometimes my protein shake tastes yummy, other times, i'm still hungry. i make noises.
art types, genuine types, typewriters, canned tuna, trinkets, forgotten items, leftover paint cans, the emotionally unavailable, flourescent plastic squirt guns, collaboration ideas, idea makers, seattle lovers, small animals, ladies in red, and something new to me.
collective selections of previous engagements leading to the consumption of musical tastes that transcend time and space.
teeth, flight of the conchords, the diving bell and the butterfly, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, animatrix, porn.o.
i see it but does it see me?
haruki murakami.
holly chernobyl.