"ptolemy may have had a difficult name, but he was no dummy."

Yesterday in art seminar - keep in mind that this is the capstone course for senior art majors, where we work on integrating faith and art - I sat next to Brian Behm. Because of a certain thought in my head that went something like "if I use my whole body as my sketchbook, will that make my art more full of vitality? Will it, in fact, be more lively?", I was drawing on myself. Brian Behm noticed, read my ring finger that said "concrete space/action" and then asked to borrow my pen. I was like, "Sure," and he proceeded to scribble on the side of his finger. "Um. . . " I thought to myself, really confused. Then Brian Behm held up his finger under his nose, and I realized, "OMG, that's a mustache!"

It was phenomenal. Weird, but phenomenal.

Today in world views, I decided to be Brian Behm. Somehow it was cooler coming from him.

I had an epiphany yesterday, too. Or maybe it was Monday night. I'm not sure. The epiphany went something like this:

I rank serving the viewer or even communicating something concrete to the viewer very low on the scale of purposes for art. Sure, art can serve those purposes, but that has nothing really to do with why I make art. On the other hand, when it comes to words, I rank serving the reader and communicating something concrete to the reader as of first importance. So weird. Do you think that has anything to do with why I continually cling to my identity as an artist despite the fact that I display less skill in general in that area?

I'm having kind of a guilt complex about my blog lately. I feel guilty if I do not post, but I feel guilty if I do post, because then I am asking people to read it. And Lord knows that I do not always have anything interesting to say whatsoever. Sometimes, I have no doubt, my blog is myopic and narcissistic (I just hope not all the time). Sometimes it is trivial in the extreme.

But sometimes people respond really well - get into thinking about a topic I posted about, in the not-internet world. So maybe I will keep talking anyway. Yes? Maybe?

I find myself less afraid of table saws this week.

P.S. Daniel Finch says that he will kick me if I doubt my critical abilities and higher theory thinking. Despite disliking threats, that made me kind of happy.

P.P.S. "I was bitten by a radioactive dandelion! It happens!"
- Scarygoround.com