The New Studio

I have been missing in action on the blog lately- partly due to procrastination, lack of reliable internet & free time, and general busy-ness. I was wrapped up in preparing for the Somerville Open Studios which meant I took a detour from my usual grand scale paintings to do more small scale landscapes. I planned to return to painting and start a new large series of pieces but instead I ended up having to move studios and contribute to another small show. So instead of new paintings to share, I have some images of my bigger and better studio space. The photo above is the entry space-- I liked how the light came in through the windows and hit the floor. Below is my studio space. I have not settled in yet. I am still figuring out storage and where to put things and eventually I will build walls to separate it from the larger space it is in so it will be more private.



The best part of the space is that it is over 3 times as large as my last space, better maintained, and with much higher ceilings. There are no trees growing out the roof... or faint odor of plumbing issues. I have about 250 square feet now. I had 80 before as illustrated below:



There was barely enough space to turn around or stand up and was probably better suited to a painter of miniatures. The new space costs more but it comes with better facilities, common areas, a rooftop deck, parking, community. I'm eager to get started on a new bunch of paintings & drawings. I'm in the process of planning them out now.

Also since I have been a bit behind on things I have not posted my latest big drawing (about 3x4 feet). Right now I call it "Nearby Distance" which still could change. It is another work where I try to play with mental and physical geography. The left half of the drawing is Los Angeles, the right have is the woods of New England. It is about how people can be connected even when physically apart. Even though the drawing rearranges geography and shows figures near each other- it implies an emotional distance between them that may be even more difficult to cross than the physical distance between the east & west coasts.



I'm also making more of an effort to include men in my paintings. I haven't included them very often for several reasons. Most of my paintings are a form self portraits that come from my own experiences. When I visualize things, I don't see men. It doesn't make sense in context with the ideas in my head. Substituting a man for a woman would change the meaning drastically and would raise a completely different set of issues than what I intend. When I really started painting heavily (beyond just college) I started with a series that explored vulnerability. It was ultimately about being alone in a big city... as a woman. For me the "woman" part went without saying, it was just a given since I am a woman.* Those paintings worked better with women since society sees them as "vulnerable." A man walks alone in the woods- so what. A woman does the same and she is told that is too dangerous. So swapping the figure with a man would change the meaning.

Even now that my paintings are not as much about vulnerability and have more mysterious narratives- it would still change the meaning to have a man. These days when I paint figures, the women often exist in their own internal worlds. With multiple women in one painting, I often see them as different aspects of the same person, even if their physical appearances are not the same. So including a man would feel like an intrusion of sorts. Or the painting would become more about a relationship between a man and a woman instead of a portrait of single person's internal world. Once it becomes about two characters I worry that a painting/drawing becomes even more narrative perhaps inches closer to illustration. However, I have decided to question my instinct to only use women and try to change things up without getting too far from my artistic voice. I This drawing is my first attempt, and I am working on some other ideas as well. I will probably also turn this drawing into a painting as well because I think it would be more successful in color.


*But I feel I don't need to explain that when I talk about my paintings I am now because people always ask why I paint women and I admit it is frustrating since I don't think it needs explaining.

the most beautiful picture in the world (to me)

the most beautiful picture in the world (to me)
Originally uploaded by Bekka Teerlink

This is my new studio space! As of today! It isn't much to look at but out of this gray shack will come many new paintings.

It's probably irresponsible to rent studio space with my unemployment check. But it absolutely had to be done.

(My sister says Van Gogh would've done the same. She would know, I gave her Van Gogh's letters for Christmas and she's read it and, because she has the amazing ability to remember every word she reads, quotes it back to me regularly. But I told her to be careful about encouraging me to follow Van Gogh's particular career path because then I would expect her to support me financially while I paint. Luckily I'm more self-sufficient than Van Gogh, and my lack of steady employment will work itself out eventually.)

But I'm very excited about having some small bit of studio space since I've been trapped in my family's house for 5 months far away from everything and everybody. The studio is in Somerville in a perfect location. I'll be able to meet people, get of the house, look for a day job, and paint all at the same time. It put me in such a good mood I was able to land some freelance work for the week.

This is very old, from High School actually

This is very old, from High School actually
Originally uploaded by Bekka Teerlink

Being back in MA means I get to see artwork I did ages ago. Back when my parents were still trying to frame everything I made (they gave up by college.) I did this piece when I was 17ish when I was a senior in high school. I never really painted before this so this really where I began. It's still one of my favorite paintings. Old pieces like this remind me why I wanted to paint in the first place. Lately I've been questioning the direction my painting has been going-- and looking at this piece makes me want to go back to the beginning and start over. Early on I just wanted to paint people-- interesting people in unique moments. I was always drawn to different non-traditional poses, angles, faces. I want to go back to painting people, just people. I just need some people to paint. Anybody game?

the streets run like the lines on my palm

the streets run like the lines on my palm
Originally uploaded by Bekka Teerlink

another map, maybe a better one. but it looks more like a map than I wanted. I wanted it to be more abstract. though the streets aren't right-- because memories of where things are always shift and when you try to draw them you see it put down muddled and out of order. but I kind of like the lack of precision that memory has.

Eight Years in LA, a portrait.

Eight Years in LA, a portrait.
Originally uploaded by Bekka Teerlink

This is a departure. I was going to post another entery in my steady flow of people sketches of late. But my mood has skewed to the other end of the spectrum this week. Instead of looking outward I am looking inward I guess. It is a rather large jolt to suddenly be 3000 miles away from my home for the last eight years. I forgot how to live anywhere else. I'm still comparing everything to LA as I find stores, things to do, concerts, art galleries, museums, the cafe that will have my new favorite tea.

Tonight I'm in a particularly reflective mood. I go to many concerts. Many. 1-3 a week, depending on my usualy flux of commitments and projects. And always local musicians because I enjoy small venues and lending support to musicians I like. Since I've been in the Boston area (4 months now?) I've gone to just two concerts. It's sad. Because I only know Los Angeles music I found myself at a concert tonight of an old favorite from LA, Ferraby Lionheart.

But what I thought would be a night of getting inspired or getting lost in music became a night of being homesick for Los Angeles. It was also sad because I know that many of the most important things I loved in LA have since left or ceased to exist. Jobs. Friends. Music venues. Radio stations. Art galleries. It was time for me to leave as well.

However I miss having eight years of memories around me-- of places I went, things I did, people I met. When you stay in one place for so long the city becomes layered with personal experiences.

So this week I wanted to find a way to draw those experiences-- like a web of places and paths and emotions all over the city. I decided to draw a map of Los Angeles, but not a street map-- a map of everything I did in eight years there.

This is not meant to look like Los Angeles really, or be accurate with streets. This is out of my head and it may not make sense to anyone else. But here you go....

While in Limbo

My entire life is packed in boxes and not at all functional. I can't unpack (let alone paint comfortably) until I get and apartment. I can't get an apartment until I get a day job. And that is not looking at all promising in this economic climate. I'm currently living in my parents guestroom and paying my essential bills with unemployment checks. Basically I am in limbo indefinitely.

So, in order to try and be productive in a way that benefits my art, I think I am going to spend my time rebuilding my art website. Which will allow me to review where I am with my work and get perspective. And it will also allow me to learn Dreamweaver (somewhat) in the process. Which may benefit my getting a better day-job.

My current art website is simple, but I want to make it more navigation-friendly. And I've spotted some errors on it these days that I thought I eliminated. So I want to rebuild the site so that I can organize my work into "series." As I've reviewed my paintings from over the last 6 years, I've started to organize them into categories. I seem to always have several themes or ideas I'm working on-- usually simultaneously.

In my head all my paintings go together. But after the fact I look back and realize they are more schizophrenic than I planned. So I need to edit. For a while I avoided editing because I wanted to show off all the work I did and wanted a big number of total paintings so I can show how hard I work.

I still remember being horribly insulted when a gallery owner asked me if "I was still painting," as if I would just paint a few things I was happy with and then walk away. I'm not like that. I'll stop painting when I die. I don't paint for buyers or shows or galleries. I paint because it's what I want to do everyday.

But I must edit the work I put on my website so that it flows smoothly and has good presentation (in case there are buyers and shows and galleries looking.)

I'll post the other paintings, experiments, and works-in-progress here on my blog and Flickr where things can be less formal.

So a brand new website is in the works. In the meantime I'll post some paintings (done last fall) that I haven't shown to anyone yet since my life took such an abrupt turn and everything I was working on got interrupted.

I'm back being artsy already.

Even though I'm "in transition" now and without a studio, I just can't stop making art. Making ambitious oil paintings is not convenient, but after a quick trip to the Met (just 5 hours away, yeah!) I was inspired by Degas to do pastels. I think I will eventually try some giant ambitious pastels, but for starters I am doing portraits to figure out how the hell to work with "chalk." I've been wanting to do portraits since I watched a documentary made by my neighbor about Alice Neel. (That was just before moving-- because one always gets brand new interesting neighbors just before moving out of a building.) I'm starting with self portraits, because I'm always available. And eventually I'll draw my family. After which I will draw friends... and new friends. Anyway, after a couple ass-scrambled drawings, I was able to make this:



Which isn't a bad start, but I still have a lot of work to do. I just wish I was a more interesting subject. I need to change outfits like Susanna Coffey does in her portraits. So right after this sketch, I tried to change myself up a bit:



But I struggled on this one. Mainly because it was 2am but I didn't know having not paid attention to clocks. All I know was that I was watching Notting Hill and it had finished and started over... and finished again. That's when I realized I had been drawing too late and too long. It shows in this portrait. And the pastel is still not natural. It's a bit muddled because I haven't quite figured out how it works and how to plan out my layering in my head as a draw. I always have to know what colors to lay out first and what to hold of on until the end-- but it takes time to know how different colors of the pastel interact with each other. I know oil, and I have an intuitive sense of each paint and it's qualities and when and where to use it. But pastel is unfamiliar territory. My main frustration is how Degas gets such small and fine detail. These sketches are 11x14 and very loose. His pastels are smaller, and I know he is probably using a much different (and better) pastel. I did a quick google about Degas' pastel drawings and found out enough to know that he got very meticulous about his pastel process and materials. But I must learn about his process if I can! More research is in store.

I'm no longer a Los Angeles artist

I have relocated to the Boston area (more specifically to my parents house) due to lack of job & money and the promise of getting a job or money for the foreseeable future. I've been supporting my painting habit with a day job in advertising. Apparently that wasn't as stable as I thought. Oops. So I'm regrouping. I won't be painting for a while since there is a complete and utter lack of space where I am. Once I am back in the artistic mindset I will be back to blogging here.

Humble announcement

On Griffith Park Blvd there was a white banged up old car with "Everything is Horrible" painted on the side of it.

That pretty much sums things up.

I wish I got a picture of the car to illustrate, but it was gone in a flash. But I did get a picture of this street art outside Palazzo Gelato on Sunset:



(I'm sure it will be gone or defaced by the time you seek it out. That's why I always carry a camera and take a moment to capture it when I see it.)

But back to the car and how horrible everything is.

Yesterday I got laid off from my job. I was surprised, yet not surprised. My company has been on the rocks lately but I thought financial disaster had been averted. Not so.

Now I am unemployed in Los Angeles once again for the first time in 2.5 years and I've forgotten how to do it. I used to scrape by on pennies from here and there but the days of being able to pay all my monthly bills with $1200 are long gone.

This whole year has been a bit of a question mark. I didn't know what it was all adding up to until this week.

It all started with Paris. Yes, I love Paris. It was like going home, with the crepes, croissants, art, and walking in the footsteps of Degas, Manet, Van Gogh and more. When I returned LA just seemed blah. I hated the giant SUV's, the unromantic clothing, the lack of history. So I set out to act like I was in Paris. I changed my clothes, got a European bicycle, took the subway every day, spent hours in cafes eating croissants. But it's not the same. Los Angeles is ugly and way too full of actors. I dont' have family, and friends seem to always be over-scheduled. I've realized I've fallen out of love with LA and I can't picture myself pursuing art and life here anymore. But I haven't said it out loud until now. Now that I am unemployed, again.

While my former company is making overtures to me about bringing me back when they have the money, the truth is I don't think I should fight to stay here anymore. It's not like after 8 years in this city it will suddenly get better.

So I've made a tentative decision: Get out. Get out while I'm still young and unattached. I'm moving to Boston. To be with family. To finally have seasons. To meet people who are not actors, directors, or screenwriters. To move forward with my life and actually put down roots somewhere and finally grow up.

I have to move fast since I have no way to pay my November rent or bills, and I am doubtful about October's. So there is a very good chance I will be gone from Los Angeles by the end of October. It's very sudden, and I have had only 1 day to seriously think about the weight of this. I'm scared, but the only thing that scares me more is committing to another permanent job in this city and not having the guts leave Los Angeles again. Because I am certain I will not grow old in this city, or even grow middle aged.

The way I see it is this, to make a very silly comparison:

Staying in LA will be like voting for McCain-- following the same stale policies from 8 yrs of Bush. In my case, 8 yrs of Los Angeles. Leaving Los Angeles will be like voting for Obama. it's unknown and unproven, smelling of east coast elitism, but full of hope.

So this is my little announcement of things to come. Maybe I will have one last giant get-together before I go, if I am not too stressed with figuring out how to get all my paintings safely moved cross country.

Too much to see, too much to do... I'll paint instead.

I didn't see the Dali exhibit, and probably won't get around to Murakami at MOCA. These giant super-exhibits never seem to impress me. I did like the Hockney one at LACMA though, and kind of liked the Magritte-- it made me respect him (which was hard because for 4 yrs during college I worked in a museum gift shop and I lost interest in any artist/artwork sold on mousepads.)

But I did to go to the Harvard art museums and the MFA in Boston over the holidays, and that was magical. I had the idea to see all the works by John Singer Sargent in Boston, but then totally forgot about the Isabella Steward Gardner Museum's El Jaleo which is probably the most impressive Sargent there (well, that and The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit, which is my personal favorite.) The good news was that the MFA Sargent's are back on display (apparently construction of the new addition made them inaccessible earlier in the year.) The bad news is that I never made it across the street to the ISGM to see El Jaleo, and instead wandered down to Faneuil Hall to get fresh chocolate chip cookies and watch break dancers.

But after seeing the Sargent's and their very fresh lively use of paint, I couldn't be bothered to see the Dali exhibit. I find his paintings kind of drab and dead. I'm not a fan of surrealism, which is maybe odd because I've been painting surrealistically lately. But I really dislike it. And everybody asks me "Did you see the Magritte exhibit?" or "Are you going to Dali?" and I feel like a traitor. But when I explain to them the difference between what I'm doing versus the official surrealist movement, people's eyes glaze over. But after seeing the Magritte show, I was even more convinced I am not Surrealist (with a capital 'S'.) Surrealists are interested in the subconscious and dreams. Their movement corresponded with Freud's own work on dreams and the subconscious, though it had not been translated into French at the time-- the Surrealists just happened to be intrigued by the same ideas. Stuff like this is very intriguing to me, people exploring the same ideas in two countries unknown to each other. (The filmmaker Kieslowski was also intrigued by this, watch the extra features on "Blue"... and see is films, it is a recurring idea.) But I am not exploring the subconscious or dreams with my paintings. I think of it in a more literary way. I used to call it magical realism, and for a while I called them metaphor paintings, but still those terms don't seem right.

Most of my paintings are exploring issues and ideas that I see around me, in the media, in everyday life, and in my head. They are more collages and juxtapositions of real life things than anything else. More than anything else, they are about environmental issues, mainly because I'm completely scared shitless about this stuff and I am working it out in my head and it comes out in my paintings. I'm not trying to make "message" paintings, and want to keep away from that completely. But I want to let the confusion, frustration, and fear seep into the paintings.

This is probably why many of the paintings have figures with their backs to the viewers, it gives the painting a point of view so the viewer knows they are observing something instead of being lectured about something. I also think having a figure's back to the viewer will pull him in, because there is that natural instinct to want to see someone's face. I like to deny that to the viewer. I think it creates a tension, and also makes the viewer see the rest of the painting differently-- because then they are seeing what the figure in the painting is seeing. And they relate to the figure. Also I like the idea of viewing things through innocent eyes, which is why these days children are appearing in my paintings. (Many of which are in process and not posted anywhere yet, sorry.) It's like the book To Kill a Mockingbird-- it's about a controversial subject but because it's seen through the eyes of children there's more of an honesty and straightforwardness about it.

I'm rambling a bit today, and my thoughts are going million miles an hour. I've been working like crazy since the new year building new canvases and starting new paintings. Hopefully more coherent posts will follow, as well as pictures. And maybe I'll have a new *show* to announce soon, I've been working on that as well....

Stretching Canvas Week! ...or the "I need a much bigger apartment" blog

I am stretching 8 canvases this week, and hopefully will get well into oil priming them by Thanksgiving. I do them in batches, because it's hard to switch from stretching to painting in the same day. Mostly for space reasons. Depending on what I am doing, I usually have to reorganize my apartment to accommodate everything. The picture above is my living room. I don't paint in this room. It's usually used as a living room/office/library/dining room. But because it has more "open space" I use it for stretching canvas as well. My apartment has 2 other rooms. The kitchen, and the bedroom/laundry room/studio. It's pretty tight. I can turn around but that's about it. I do need to spend a weekend purging a bunch of stuff to make more space, but I've been meaning to do that since January and it's likely it will be a while before it happens. Once I get this latest round of canvases stretched, the tiny space will really start hitting me. 80% of my walls are already covered by existing art. And so once I start working on these canvases I'm going to run out of wall space real quick (I like to keep my paintings out in the open on walls while I work on them-- I think half of painting is just looking at the paintings as they progress....) So I am going to have to solve my space problem, and soon. Over the next months I will either A) need to sell paintings, B) need to lend paintings, C) need to get a raise so I can rent a storage space for paintings. I'm really really pulling for option A, but that's not going so well-- at least not for the big ones. (I guess technically I've sold 8 or 9 paintings this year, but they were super tiny.) But for now I'm just going to keep on stretching and painting. I'm aiming to do a couple more paintings by the end of the year, so I can go out with a bang. Then more at the start of the year... to start the year with a bang. Hopefully I'll have more shows coming up, that I'm working on. I am going to do a 1 day show on December 13 with some small works, so I'll be working on those for the next week or so while I get my big big canvases primed and ready for action.

Cigarettes and Red Vines

I saw Aimee Mann today on Vermont Blvd. I had her CD Bachelor No. 2 on repeat when I first moved to LA (along with The Who's greatest hits.) I got to see her perform at Largo last year, I was sitting 4 feet from the stage with best bud Guillermo and sipping on a dirty martini. It was one of the best live shows I've seen, despite the fact she kept forgetting her own lyrics (thankfully the audience could help her there.) Seeing her reminded me of that awesome show, and made me think of all the wonderful shows I've gone to here in LA. Here is my top list of the best musicians/performers I've seen:

1. Josh Ritter - I've seen him 4 times live and every show I'm blown away. It's partly the sheer energy, the stage persona, and the band as a whole. I think his lyrics are the most interesting and wonderful that I've heard. I'm really drawn to the images and concepts in them, and he uses the most bizarre juxtapositions and references. I had been thinking about metaphor in literature vs. painting for a while (See my painting "In The Ruins of the City" for a prior attempt.) But it was his CD "The Animal Years" that crystallized my thinking about this and compelled me to follow my instinct about using my own bizarre juxtapositions of imagery (see "The Edge of the World.") I'll probably write more about this later, since it's been on my mind again as I start a new series of paintings in the vein of The Edge of the World...
2. Mia Doi Todd - Every time I go see her I seriously float home and start painting or writing poetry furiously. Her lyrics are so plain and deceptively simple yet beautiful-- they often consist of simple observations but it takes someone like her to turn them from ordinary to an extraordinary song. I studied poetry in college with Olga Broumas, and reading poetry aloud was very important there. When poetry is read well, it has a musical quality. And Mia's music/voice somehow seems to straddle the world of music and poetry. Plus she performs barefoot and uses a harmonium, and I looove things like that.
3. Ferraby Lionheart - Another LA local, I first heard his music on the radio as I was moving my last load of belongings to my new place here in Silverlake. It took me a while to track him down online (now it's not as hard since he's starting to get some attention) but I was able to see him play solo a couple days later. I think what struck me about him is his reserved quality as well as how magical his music is. I also find something familiar about his music, and after some thought I decided that his songs feel like songs I would write myself (well... if I could write music.)
4. Aimee Mann- I loved her live, partly because of the intimacy of the venue and the casual quality of the performance. She had no set list, and I think some of her back up musicians were not her normal people and just following along. Also since I found her music during a transitional period in my life so it just holds so much extra meaning for me.

holy crap I'm moving

Yes I've been missing lately (though it probably doesn't matter since I have no readers) and admittedly haven't been focused much on art. I've wrapped up most of my recent in-process paintings, photographed them, handed them over to my web designer (who proceeded to not update my website), and turned my attention to getting a new apartment-- one that wouldn't involve my spending up to 3 hrs in the car each day getting to and from work.

So I have found the perfect apartment (as perfect as it gets without thousands of square feet to spill paint in) tucked on the side of a hill in the Loz Feliz/Silverlake area. It is a one bedroom so I will be roommate free and can officially become the crazy artist hermit I am aspiring to be. And once I'm settled and have my art studio back in order in it's new home, I'll start posting pictures and blogging again.

the adventure of having a day off

I have tomorrow off, a weekday. I must say this is the best part of my day job. Even if I work a little on a weekend-- a weekday off is worth 2 weekend days (with banks and post offices actually being open.) The night before is the best part because I get to imagine all the things I'm going to do. After all, I haven't overslept yet so it's still a full day in my head.

Of course my list of things to do is getting a little long... give 75% of my clothes to goodwill because I don't want to wash them... oil prime my canvases with that annoying ground that never washes off my hands... start this new painting I've had in my mind... measure all my artwork and input it into my nifty database... photograph that cluster of pastels I forgot about the other day when I photographed everything else... design new business cards... look for a new apartment/studio to move to.... I could keep going.

Of course I could end up getting to it all since I banned TV before 10pm each day. I've suddenly found myself hyper-productive and have accomplished in a week what I've been aiming to get around to eventually for 6 months. Even though I like to have noise on in the background when I paint-- I can't deny that sometimes it sucks me in and pretty soon I'm sitting on the couch (still holding brushes in my hand) waiting to see who turned out to be the killer this night on one of the Law and Orders. Enough!

I've also banned desert. Except on weekends and only when I'm out with friends. No more binging on a whole package of Nestle cookie dough while all alone in my apartment.

my sketchy book

Inspired by the Hockney show to start keeping a sketchbook again (well one that that actually includes sketches and doesn't fill up with phone numbers and random notes.) I have been pretty much been doing a drawing a day-- usually when I'm out with friends or on my lunch break from my day job. I thought I'd post a few things-- nothing is particularly stunning but I like capturing brief moments of people and things I see. I'm pretty good at capturing things quickly before the scene changes too much, and I like the challenge of moving subjects and changing places. Some drawings are interrupted by the subject walking away (or worse, the subject noticing me hiding in a corner looking at them out of the corner of my eye.) So far nobody has bothered me or spoken to me-- that's what drove me crazy a few years ago when I did a group of paintings from sketches made at the Farmer's Market or 3rd Street Promenade. (I'm real popular with old lonely men, and sketching gives them a jumping off point for conversation....) Things that prevent this: sunglasses, headphones. They are an artist's best friend when they are secretly drawing people.

This is a sketch of my friend Guillermo over an impromtu dinner at the East India Grill July 7. We discussed life, our future, Los Angeles, and the magic of double decker buses (I had come from the West Hollywood art ride-- very enjoyable!)

Some sketches over lunch. I love people watching (until they start watching me.)

On some of my quick sketches I have started to revisit them later (in my studio) and add to them in what ever way that strikes me at that moment-- usually completely out of my head and very random and impulsive. Sometimes magical things happen. Sometimes it ends up looking like mud.

I'll post more bits and pieces from my sketchbook as they can. More is on my flickr site-- just a start. It will grow...

a new hope

I've been a little scattered lately because I am in the process of switching day jobs. But ultimately I think this will be a good thing-- once it's all sorted out and a routine has been set. I'm a little nervous because I never seem to get the balance I need to paint full force but of course even in the days when I had all day to work I still was short on time. Painting is addictive, and the more time I spend painting, the more time I need for it.

But the best thing about switching day jobs is the hope and the motivation it is giving me. I've reached that point where I feel like I have been waiting for my life to begin but never quite living it. I think it's a trap that many aspiring artists of all sorts fall into in LA. Everyone here is waiting for their big break. The key word is waiting-- which means everybody is waiting for something to actually happen-- like their life. At some point a person realizes how much time they have lost thinking they will get rich and successful tomorrow or the next day and then has to come to terms with the fact it may not happen, and if it doesn't-- what does that mean to their goals, identity, and happiness.

So I have decided to not wait any longer and start living the life I want to. Of course I have no money, but this new job gives me just a little more so that maybe I can change just a little bit.

First thing I need is to move. I need to not have a roommate-- I don't like having my schedule dictated by another person in my space. (Plus I don't like having food left to rot on the counter.) And I don't particularly like my apartment. The light is poor, the carpet is ugly, and there aren't any people my age in the area. So I must find a way to find an apartment with good light, young artists nearby, no roommate, and preferably hardwood floors. I would like a loft but unfortunately I think it is out of my price range so I will probably still have space issues. Also, I would like to get a cat. Preferably with a bizarre name that requires an extensive explaination. After this, I need to connect with other artists in LA. I seem to be having trouble with this (but I do know a shitload of screenwriters and aspiring directors...) and I've been told to "go to openings" but it would help if maybe all the artists could just put an "A" on their chest or something so I could pick them out. And lastly of all a show would be nice. I've gotten several rejections this year which prompted me to paint harder and faster. I'm hoping it pays off soon, otherwise I'll just put something together myself because I'm never one to wait for an opportunity to be handed to me. I make my own.

But needless to say, the next 6 months will be transitional months. However I'm looking forward to a life that involves more serious painting, artsy friends, wine, and real health insurance.