kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A letter to the Artist First things first: Dearest Nicks, You are a Goddess, and I love reading about your adventures in school. I have no doubt in my mind that you will "make it" as an artist. I can remember the first time I saw your work. I was so impressed. I can't count the number of times I have heard someone say they are an "artist" and then I have seen their stuff and it is nice, but nothing special. Your stuff is special. Your stuff is fecking amazing. If anyone can hold their own in this art school environment, it is you. I would be intimidated down to the soles of my feet. Do you know I once wanted to be an artist? For like five seconds, until I realized I didn't have the talent, but damn I can shop and accessorize like nobody's business. You have balls of steel my dear, and it is true, you DON'T know your own power. I am so proud of you it makes my heart sing and my eyes get all watery (wearing green eyeliner today - trying to avoid makeup disaster by holding back). You are one of the smartest, most talented, most beautiful people I have ever met. Oh balls, I miss your sweet ass. Go get em girl. Just don't forget the little people. As for men wearing glitter and all black wearing film makers, ... always remember two things ... 1. Men who wear more makeup than you are very useful when caught without your cosmetic kit in a moment of dire need. 2. Women who wear all black and make movies about painting inside the box were once probably cheesy pop music fans. They probably had bad taste in clothes and snapped their bubble gum all day while they jumped on their beds listening to the old school version of Brittney Spears somewhere in the middle of suburbia. Stand on a chair, pound your chest and scream "I AM AN ARTIST! I AM AN ARTIST! HEAR ME ROAR!" You rock babe. And now ... for something completely different. Day 9, still falling. All I want to do is run across the office and nuzzle Patrick's neck or some such inappropriate behavior. Have I said that he is wonderful? I know this is tired but ... I HAVE NEVER felt this way before. Honest Injun. Leaving early tomorrow morn for Vermont. Can't wait to see Mom. Can't wait to wear baggy clothes and flip flops for three days in a row. Oh, and I can't wait for the drive tomorrow, in which I will be enclosed in a small car for hours on end with the man of my dreams. Sigh. Not getting much done at work today, in fact nobody is. I think everyone in my corner of the office has been discussing a football pool for the past three hours. Ah! Advertising. Gotta love it. 12:33:57 - 2000-08-31 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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