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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.


I'm Gish. I guess this is what one can call the remnants of a pre-mid-life crisis. I listen to too much music and read too many books, and it all means nothing. Abrasive, I smoke too much, drink too much coffee and hardly sleep. Alive. Be sure to check out the new links to blogs, photos, music and other sorts of good stuff at the very bottom of the page.


delay my gratification. Please.

Being unemployed sucks ass. I know that it gives me unlimited time to make love (read: to do obscene things) with my cameras and laptop, but really....after you've gotten off X amount of times, how much more fun can you have with it, without needing to miss it for awhile?

I'm a delayed gratification kind of girl. I like to want something. Having all I want at my fingertips (such as time, time and well...more time) just doesn't get my juices running. I know. Whiner. Complainer. Blah, blah, blah.

A year ago, I was complaining about not having enough time to devote to my artistic beauty (read: fingerpainting). But being an artist, I thought that was what it was all about. The inception, not the actual carrying out. Coming up with the ideas is super easy but faced with a blank canvas or an empty compact flash card and I'm a dithering mess. Most of the time.

Ok, enough complaining. Now I have to go outside and get some stuff done. I'm going to go see if I can get a pretty face so I can be featured in Merkley???'s
http://threequestionmarks.com/blog/blog.html coffee table book. But I suspect I outweigh the average model by 50 pounds. What can I say?

I'm generous. Bountiful. Rubenesque. Burlesque. HA. Pretty words to say eff ay tee.


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