I don't think it's liable to happen; like the sound of one hand clappin'

[lizblackdog]

I've managed to cripple my fucking right hand somehow. It's not my usual swollen finger joints that I get when I type too much. this time it's the tendon that runs down the back of my thumb into my wrist. typing isn't TOO bad but mousing is near impossible, as is picking anything up. also, right now the shift key feels too much like fucking hard work - my apologies. okay, I went back and edited in most of the caps. too picky for my own good sometimes.

dunno if it was dog-inflicted - they have this way of suddenly pulling hard in opposite directions on-leash that's hell on any wrists and fingers caught in the middle - or if I did it to myself battling imaginary dragonslayers or playing stupid solitaire and slots games online for fake money. either way, I'm pissed off. fucking stupid shoddy meat-thing. shame I voided the warranty and replacement parts are such a bitch to source.

the only good thing about it is it's given me an excuse to continue not attempting to commit art for just a little while longer. now, I have been successfully avoiding the making of art for something like fifteen years - I've even got to the point where if I didn't have two living parents, all traces of my former artcrimes would have been expunged from existence.

but - once an addict, alway an addict. I've been running with the wrong crowd lately. I deluded myself into believing that I could stick to words. maybe I still can, but I'm increasingly conscious lately of my stash of unused paper, brushes, pencils, Fimo and acrylic paint. I'm seeing mind-pictures of the sweep of grey wings over waves, the flash of white teeth in the green, the spray of sand under hooves. I'm getting dangerously near that place where not attempting art hurts more than attempting it. I hate that so much.

my chosen soundtrack sums up the relationship between me and art so well that I need to show it to you. bob dylan is god.

Comments

[crusherdisciple.livejournal.com]

I think you should stop masturbating so much. You're obviously overworking your thumb. ;D

[lizblackdog.livejournal.com]

I wish it were that. I haven't been able to do it all damn week, which let me tell you, DOES NOT HELP WITH THE CRANKY!

[crusherdisciple.livejournal.com]

A whole week? I thought having to wait a few days during my period was bad. :o

[rozae.livejournal.com]

It occurs to me that I've never seen your art. If there is any way to, I would love to.

Perhaps this is the year for you and I to both pick back up the paint brushes?

[lizblackdog.livejournal.com]

You. Some of the blame is yours, with your orchids and ligers. I'm not bitching at you, you understand. i love your art. I just didn't want to be forced to attempt it myself any more, but it's fucking infectious or something.

None of my art presently exists in any form that I know of, except some juvenilia that persists at my mother's house...

...Oh. I just remembered I have a pastel drawing of my old dog Scampi buried under a lot of stuff in my kitchen. The trouble with that is that I drew it in grey and white and brown pastels on black paper, and I don't have a scanner. I could try and photograph it - in fact, I will, as soon as i'm done typing this comment - but I doubt you'd be able to see much.

Shit. I have to go and do that now. watch this space.

[rozae.livejournal.com]

Forced to attempt it? Aww.

[lizblackdog.livejournal.com]

that's how it feels. Gods, could I sound more emo and whiny if I tried?

I'm about to post photographs of the only bit of Liz art still in existence that I know of. You'll notice that my ambivalence and whininess doesn't stop me attentionwhoring it.

[rozae.livejournal.com]

You might succeed if you add a few sad faces after each whine ;]

[lizblackdog.livejournal.com]

THERE. Posted.