What I've Read
Technically I've been reading Make Your Art No Matter What by Beth Pickens since the beginning of summer, but it's such a transformative and comforting read that I keep returning to certain chapters whenever I need a creative tune up. While filled with practical advice for the distracted/struggling/burnt out artist (which...what artist isn't these days), this book fulfills a need I didn't know the creative part of me craved: knowing that it's not just me.
I mean maybe it shouldn't take a self help book to feel that way given that I am, gratefully, surrounded by a vibrant creative community, but sometimes I need to be alone...to feel less alone... Therapists hate her!
What I've Eaten
I did drop $90 at a Michelin star level farm-to-table restaurant (Petra and the Beast right on the cusp of the Lakewood area and Old East Dallas) where the highlights of the night were a brisket cured hiramasa, the house espresso martini, and a chicken liver mousse (it was like a...tongue yogurt). However, the best thing I've had to eat in September was the custom birthday cake I got from my friend Kkuma Cakes (@kkumacakes).
She said she loves making cakes for illustrators because she can tell how hard we work on making the shape language simple for our cute art (a summary of our conversation in the Starbucks parking lot as Lucy and I were screaming over Dice Tray's frosted face). Lucy and I ate around her face on a picnic bench in a park in McKinney after I got stung on the foot by a wasp. It's probably one of the best afternoons I've ever had.
What I've Listened To
Noah and I rehashed a discussion we've had numerous times on the drive home from Mitski's This Land Is Inhospitable And So Are We Tour show in Grand Prairie: which song of hers is actually the saddest, Two Slow Dancers or There's Nothing Left For you? Note: she didn't actually perform either of those songs that night. She DID perform: a jazz version of Pink in the Night, a country version of I Don't Smoke, a bluegrass-y jazz-y version of Happy, Valentine, TX and Thursday Girl that transitioned to Geyser with strobe lights. None of these things won't mean anything to you unless you were terminally online between 2018-2022 and on some kind of SSRI. Mine's fluoxetine.
What I've Been Up To
My fully developed cortex won't allow me to be sad on my birthday without reason anymore because aging isn't fucking scary (despite what the skin care, surgery, and "wrinkle free" straw industries want you to believe). In the spirit of turning 28, therefore, I threw a 2008-era pop punk/alt/emo/middle school scene kid teenage dirtbag piece of shit birthday party where everyone dressed up as their middle school alter egos (the dress code developed on its own, the theme developed from the invitation saying "because MCR wasn't the only thing born on 9/11"). I can say with confidence - best birthday party I've ever had so far.
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