golden gate at night

Now I can’t guarantee that I won’t do more stuff with it (because I have a hard time finally saying “done” when it comes to artwork), but I MAY have just completed my first paying piece.

I just wish I knew if I were DONE.

This comes at no particular time, or rhyme or reason.  I’ve long since been “over it”.

But I still really miss my best friend.

I don’t really have much to say…

I just think this picture is awesome.

laughing through the graveyard

A year ago on Monday, I was in a car accident. Actually, a car wreck would be more appropriate.  It spun, it crashed, it flipped, it burned, it exploded.  All but the last one with me inside it.

In telling the story (which I have since done many, many times) I always touch on the fact that, when it was happening, my life and my safety were actually not what was running through my brain during the actual accident.  As my car was heading towards the wall, my thoughts were not about whether or not I was going to be injured, but “oh no, my CAR”.  When I had just made it out of the car and was pulled away by a good samaritan to a safe distance, I saw the car explode and started sobbing, because it was MY CAR.  Despite how much pain I was in or how shaken I had become, it was the damage to my Jetta that caused me to start truly becoming hysterical.  Even when I was stuck in the car, and saw the flames coming from the hood, my brain didn’t go “If I stay here, I will burn, or get smoke inhalation”…but very logically and pragmatically said “Oh wow, flames.  I should be where this isn’t”, which always gets a laugh from people, but that’s actually how my brain worked at that moment.

It wasn’t until hours later that it all hit me.  I was wheeled into the x-ray room and was waiting for my cat scan.  Up until that point, I had not been alone, surrounded by my police, then ambulance drivers, then later my parents, assorted hospital staff my ex boyfriend who I had called in a panic when I couldn’t seem to remember anyone’s phone numbers.  

When the technician left the room, I remember laying on that gurney, staring at the ceiling and feeling the pain radiate along my …well, my whole body. And it finally, hours later, hit me what I had escaped. That I could very easily…have died. And I burst into tears.

I walked away from that accident with a only fractured right hand, and some back problems.  Yes, I looked like someone beat me up like I owed them money, but everything with the exception of my right knee cap (which I think will always just be numb in that one spot) has healed perfectly with not so much a whisper of a scar.

On Monday, I (very cautiously) drove out to Silverlake to grab a few drinks with a small group of friends, to celebrate, and mark the occasion for what it was; something to celebrate. I don’t think I’ll do that every year, and I was sick with a cold when I went out. But I felt, looking at this past year…that it needed to be recognized. I had a great time, and was happy I went out.

I am very fortunate to be alive, and blessed that I experienced such a thing at such a young age, and to learn from it now as opposed to later.

Vive la Allison!

email convo with dad

Dad -

Sorry to hear that. Hope you feel better.

Bob

Allison -

“Bob”, huh?  Haha.

Dad -

It’s added automatically when I send a message from MY NEW IPHONE

Bob

***** ya’ll, my father has an iPhone now.  And no one geeks out over having a new toy quite like Dad.  This should be interesting.  And I give it a week before he downloads some sort of “farting” app.  Seriously, one week.

i don’t own an umbrella

I don’t own an umbrella.

I know I should, I just haven’t gotten around to it.  My favorite umbrella got destroyed in the car crash last January (it was in the trunk, and was burned up).

I loved that umbrella.  The one I had even had a carving of Van Gogh’s signature in the handle.  But until I can afford to replace it, I haven’t felt the need to go and buy another lesser one to have “in the meantime”.  I’m afraid that if I buy one just to have one, I’ll never get around to replacing the one I really wanted.

My current cell phone is 4 years old.  My Palm Centro broke, and rather than spend the money to replace it through my phone insurance, I’d rather wait until I have the money to extend my contract and buy the phone I really want (the Droid ERIS).  It doesn’t make sense to spend $50 on a phone, when I’m planning on spending another $100 in a few months for an entirely different one.

I’m not a fan of placeholders. Something that will “do for now” until you get what you really want. Hell, I don’t even eat ramen very much. If I’m putting something in my body, it should be real food.

I don’t understand what compels people to keep these things around in their life, especially when it comes to people. Hanging out with a friend you don’t like very much because you just want something to do on a Friday night. Dating someone (any sort of intimate companionship that is more than a cut and dry “casual sex” situation) so you can pass the time, have some company and have a warm body in you bed, not because you are particularly smitten or invested in spending time with them.

I get the logic behind buying the cheaper shampoo. I get going to see the movie that you don’t want to see because it will make the other person happy. I EVEN get working a job you hate because a job is a job. But our relationships with people, both romantic and otherwise, are special, unique things. They are only worth their own weight. A superficial one has no point other than to help you lose sight of the real thing.

I am not a fan of placeholders. I don’t keep them around. I refuse to be someone else’s placeholder either. Because, quite frankly, I’m worth a hell of a lot more than a cheap umbrella. I’m a goddamn work of art.

Things I would like to Do/Learn in the not so distant future

* paint a mural – not neccesarily a large one, maybe just a friend’s wall…

* plant a vegetable garden – plans are in motion to possibly have that happen

* go on a road trip

* learn piano

* finally read the gigantic, almost 1,000 page biography of The Beatles that I bought ions ago.

* build something impressive. Not sure if thats a statue, a robot, a computer, or a piece of furniture.

* join some sort of team sport – I was watching a friend’s ultimate frisbee game last week, and it looked like a lot of fun. I get the feeling that THAT’S the way I should be getting my exercise – by playing I love yoga, and hiking, and occasionally even the gym (though….not really), but I have so much fun when I occasionally play basketball in my dad’s tiny driveway (even though I’m always dressed wrong for it, and Dad does not let the fact that I’m his first born prevent him from playing dirty), or play air hockey (which I get really worked up and competitive over), and even just dancing and singing like a damn fool in my friend’s living room (which I did on Friday and was an absolute blast).

* be a Photoshop MASTER

* Take a dance class – not a hip hop or ballet (well, maybe ballet), but a ballroom dancing class. Dancing with a partner – swing, tango, etc…I just want to learn how, and think it would be a lot of fun. The only dancing I really did growing up was choreographed for musicals, show choirs, etc…as a result, my standard dance club moves are the White Girl Sway and Side Step, or I just end up jumping up and down while twirling my friends. I think the best way for me to enjoy dancing is if there is some sort of order to it.

* Dye my hair pink again – if I got another job that was as casual as the one I had LAST time I dyed it, I’d dye the bottoms of my hair pink again. Ironically, I’m not the biggest fan of pink, but it looks really cool with my natural color. I wouldn’t do it as MUCH as the last time, probably just a few streaks at the – like this.

I think I’ll add to this later on…but for now, this is what I desire.

however

I’m not boy crazy.  I’m happier alone most days, and am not desperately searching for a boyfriend.  I have a busy life, wonderful friends, and enough love, affection and appreciation from them and my family to not make me want for more (though I can appreciate infinite affection   ).  I don’t feel like I need a man to make me feel better about myself, nor a desire to “keep up” with any coupled friends or exes.  The idea of sex with someone new kinda terrifies me.  I have a bevy of wonderful men with whom I great platonic relationships.  I am not in need of anyone to build, fix, or buy anything for me (and occasionally when I am in need of the building or the fixing, I do it myself, and may occasionally ask them for some assistance).  I get along and love all of my friend’s significant others, and honestly never feel like a bitter single when I hear of love and relationships regarding the people I care about.  This Valentines Day, I will not feel a twinge of sadness that no one has bought me flowers, because I’ve never really looked at Valentines Day that way, even when I was with someone, and instead view it as a day to tell all the special people in my life how much I love them.  I don’t need someone to take me out, nor do I need someone’s company to even go out (as I get ready to start my day heading over to the flea market and the farmers market, alone).

However

it would be nice to fall in love again.

new-ish

new layout, new year.

I know, the excitement is almost too much to bear, huh?

As I lean back, look around my clean studio that has some semblance of organization, and actually looks like a grown up lives here, I think to myself, “life…it ‘aint so bad”.

learning from my mistakes at the LA Art Walk

I attempted the LA Art Walk tonight, and will post some pictures later after I assess and see if I got any good ones. However, it was definitely an Allison planning fail, resulting in me spending more money than I intended, actually setting foot in only about 3 galleries, and basically turning me into such easily irritated ball of redheaded grump that I wanted to punch everyone who was in within 10 feet of me (I’m normally not one of those people who get easily jumpy in large crowds, but by the time we arrived there my mood was so shot, I think I just didn’t have the spirit for it).  All in all, it was definitely a disappointment that I didn’t get a chance to enjoy it due to mostly my own faux pas, since I’ve been wanting to go for months.  I will definitely try again next month (provided I don’t have class that night, and my Spring schedule is escaping me at the moment.)

However, I did learn enough for next time. Hey guys, when going to the LA Art Walk:

*take the bus, because looking for and maneuvering around downtown LA for a parking lot that isn’t full or rape you up the ass is a test of patience even for the most zen person (it should be noted that I originally had every intention of taking the subway downtown, but then…

*read the event website a little more carefully because otherwise you think it ends at midnight, not nine…and you dilly dally getting ready because you think “oh i have time, la la la”. And then your friend who apparently ISN’T dyslexic says “oh allison, it starts at 12 and ends at NINE”, so by then its 7, and you have no choice but to drive, and try not to have a panic attack while being a passenger in someone’s else car on the 101 S. at night. You then realize that you haven’t eaten anything all day, so you go through the Carl’s Jr drive-thru and get fried zucchini and orange juice because that seems like the best possible option for a vegan in this particular situation, and…fast food is never the “best possible option”.

*After talking for a week about an event you are “so excited to walk around and take pictures of”, make sure your ONLY camera battery is charged.  Because, really, how stupid are you?  Argh…

*leave the giant bag at home or your big coat or pretty much anything that is going to make you a larger mass of person. Because you will be trying to make your way through throngs of people (a great deal of them complete assholes, but I’ll get to that in a bit), and you just need to make yourself as small as possible. Because then you smack people with your giant messenger bag in the crowded gallery, and then YOU’RE the asshole. And really, who wants that?

*Plan a route of what galleries you want to see before you get there otherwise you end up Spring St for 3 hours just following the throngs like a damn sheep and you only end up going inside about 3-4 places, only 2 them even remotely interesting.

*Drink a shot of your alcohol of choice before you get there, because even the most tolerant person could get fed up with the mixture of hipster douchebags, overly dressed up downtown party people (because apparently “Thursday is the new Friday”) and just clueless fucking people saying the most moronic statements about art you could ever hear.

*After making your way through the noise, and the clusterfuck, and the people, do your best to stop, observe, and enjoy when you see something truly great.

(the” Luminousity” exhibit at Continental Gallery)