Miss Construed, if yer nasty.

I've been trying to draw more. it's a shaky realm to reenter. the entire time I was growing up it was ohh you're such a good artist you're so talented I could never gifted gifted such a gift. and I got lazy. whatever! drawing was always easy for me. it was a thing I did with my hands and it solved the bifold onus of 1. being fidgety as fuck and 2. disliking prolonged eye contact. until I discovered cigarettes, drawing solved all my weird problems. 

I don't even know what I'm "good at" anymore. does anyone? 

she has a paw-print on the end of her nose! 8 years old and I've never noticed this? 

this reminds me of those old photos of people behaving whimsically, of students cramming themselves into phone booths or penny-farthing-ing along the boardwalk. devil-may-care, caution to the wind, let us cavort within sweaty plastic orbs. 

Madison Park. 

seriously? cirrus-ly. 

this is out of focus, as it happens when I am too hastily self-conscious with my photo-taking at the QFC. I bought these because they must apply to me somehow. 

today is grey and soft and perfect- that mellow dour Seattleness that removes all unrealistic expectations of energy and optimism.

...and as I was just writing this I heard a click-trainer noise from outside my window and saw a man walking down the sidewalk, feeding a throng of crows that he'd summoned with the clicker. it's one of those marvelous things you hear about but never actually see. way to disrupt my despondent-weather hypothesis, Life! it's nice to be reminded that random magical shit like this probably happens all the time.