Monday, December 28, 2015

358. Making Art is Harder than You'd Think

Lately I lack social skills. You think I'm lying, but I can invite a few long-time friends to my house...the kind I've known forever and who know the worst about me, and I still manage to embarrass myself. Somehow I manage to say the worst possible thing, and I spend the next 10 minutes backpedaling to try and correct this malformed concept that came out of my mouth, even though it never made any sense in the first place. I think I've grown too emotional, too distant, and I've bottled everything I want to discuss with anyone, no matter how small.

Now it's all big.

I can't look a friend in the eye without bearing some dark secret I've been sitting on. Except my secrets aren't dark, they're just simplistic observations that I thought sharing might air out. Does that even happen? Airing your grievances results in a newfound understanding of one another and everything after is hunky-dory?

Doubtful.

My dog has a black eye today. Not a real black eye, but it's all swollen, so it's more like pink and he can't seem to hold it open all the way. It happened yesterday, when I put him outside for a minute to pee before we left to see a movie.

Ok, not any movie, it was Star Wars.

He came inside and it looked like he had a cut on his eyebrow, but by the time we came home it was all swollen like Rocky after a fight, Today it was even worse. All I can think about is what sort of nail or opossum he took to the face. I started painting him yesterday. He has a really nice shape, and he doesn't tear apart every sentence that comes out of my mouth.

I don't really talk to anyone but him anymore.

No comments: