I've had four hours of sleep since i arrived home at about 7. Four hours since having pulled a 21 hour stint on art, art and art. Four bloody hours since a month when i first applied a self imposed,inaugural halt in studying my other subjects in pursuit of the completion of my coursework. It is because nothing keeps me going that I'm able to move on. Questioning is a hindrance; reflection is painful and realisation is fatal. So i don't think, i do. Against everything that i believed in when i first embarked on this two-year long road-- against moderation, against balance, against happiness. I hate being stupefied into working. I hate being in abject denial while doing.
I hate art so much that it actually hurts.
Tell me that being an artist is not a road to suicide. Please.
Kwa's Birthday
Nette i love this picture. Priceless.
Forgot to remove the auto focus thing so the cake looks more important than her face.
UNGLARRRMMM.
the ghost of art past, present and future.
Why isn't anyone standing next to the birthday girl?
Looks like everyone wants to prevent her from doing something disastrous. haha.
We love(?) BAKWAAA.
No comments:
Post a Comment