A little cheesy of an intro, yes, but I was thinking about how I felt and this picture made more sense than any words. For those unfamiliar, this is a freeway underpass on the 101N in Los Angeles (I know, it was so obvious I shouldn't bother mentioning it right?) Anyway, I took it when i was home, actually this isn't the first time I've tried to photograph it, but it's more difficult than you'd think: you need to be in the right lane, with traffic stopping at just the right spot, and oh yeah, not the one driving the car. The mural's been there since at least the mid-90s, and when I was a kid, the woman looked like she was staring off into the universe, hatching some brilliant, beautiful plan. But time (in the form of graffiti) took its toll and now she looks more trapped than envisioning. Trapped in her own thought.
So I've said it and I'm rid of it. Because feeling trapped and pointless and small is just a self-fufilling prophesy. I would leave you with the motivational self-quote I wrote on my board the other day to remind myself this, but it's very uh, expletive ladden (in real life I tend to swear like a salior..oops) So I'm just going to say something that is someone else's that I've liked since I read it on their facebook profile and realized it was definitely not one of those instances where you need to worry about being online buddies with your boss*: the point is to have the best time.
So excuse me, but I'm going to have the best time now. I encourage you to do the same.
*Sarah and I are actually good real-life friends now, also she isn't my boss anymore. Not that those are related. Also, sorry this was a psuedo-philisophical ramblefest.
**also, if you want to read some more blogs before getting back to work, Candy or Medicine was nice enough to post a silly picture of me and 11/10 to let people know it's for sale, along with talking about the more interesting work of more interesting people. But seriously, if you haven't bought it yet, please do. People like it. Also, there's only a couple more copies of this printing left, and I keep them in the box you get from the printers' and keep that in my sock drawer (my place is epically small), which led to some displaced socks that are threatening to revolt if they aren't returned to the motherland. Don't believe me? Here:
Okay I'll admit i did that as a joke, but i may not sleep tonight...they're armed! (well, thumbed)