put your shirt back on

Went to a vegetarian bar/restaurant/concert venue last night and had a blast.

It was, literally, a little hole-in-the-wall place with an empty back room, a couple of lights, and $2 PBR.

It was $5 for three bands, and it was a god damn bargain. The bands were the grassroots blues-inspired kind that I didn't think existed, anymore. The band members sported gauges the size of bottle-caps (empirical evidence was provided), dreads to their hips, and the occasional pair of coveralls, and accompanied themselves on washboards, saws, and banjos. One washtub player showed up in a penguin suit.

The crowd sported everything from capes and skirts to 1920s-esc gloves and heels. I saw pockets bulging with smart phones and pocket knives in equal measure. No one seemed to care what they looked like; we were all just comfortable and we were there for the music. The musicians were talented and easy-going and didn't seem to mind that there were all of thee lights in the place. They played their hearts out, we danced and clapped and stomped, and everybody had a good time.

I was absolutely delighted by the music, too. There were funeral dirges, road songs, and one rousing ballad about stealing chocolate bars.

It was, altogether, a very liberating night. I used to be the quintessential art student, complete with found clothes and questionable bathing practices, and while I have moved past that into 'white bread college kid', I definitely miss the expressive and unapologetic attitude of the arts.

And it was nice to not be the only person in the crowd with holes in the knees of my jeans, for once.

So, my dad calls me.

The first words out of his mouth are, "I love the blue-eyed raven."

I'm like, "... Buh?"

He goes on about the blue-eyed raven, and I'm like, 'That sounds a lot like a certain story I've been writing on the side, but how in the hell did he-?'

Then he explains that he found it on "the Z thing."

Then my Dad-to-English babelfish kicks in and I realize he's talking about this blue-eyed raven on DeviantArt.

I am not one to self-promote, really, so when I say that I'm shocked that he even found this, know this to be an understatement. My dad likes to keep tabs on my DA account, so sometimes I'll let him know if I've posted something new.
According to him, though, it came as a complete surprise that I had done something like this. He hadn't even thought it was me, until he read my bitchy artist's comments.

He was extremely excited about the story, comparing it to Harry Potter in terms of the structure, telling me that he was very interested in reading it.

I am taken aback. What I think happened is that he had no idea that I've been writing stories for years. In fact, most people don't know that I write. I'm extremely self-conscious about it, and I don't let people read a whole lot of what I write just because I don't think it's all that awesome. My forte for a long time has been drawing (and even that is mediocre).

So I think the combination of my most thought-out story concept to date and a minor revolution in my drawing style really wowed my father, given how he had no concept of everything up to this point.

He gave me good advice, too. He advised me to draw before I write. If I'm struggling with a character's personality, I should draw the scene, the action sequences, the background, whatever. He says I'm an artist first.
This is probably very true. I don't enjoy writing exercises, as they strike me as just efforts to economize vocabulary. I write all of the time, and most of it is garbage. But the good stuff comes from what I can visualize.

I'm still a little in shock, how excited he was about this. I've already decided to put some more effort into my art. Guess I'll have to finish writing the damn thing, too!

Just finished the most ambitious piece of art I've EVER done. My back is killing me. And my arm. And my neck.

I'm just blegh right about now. But, that motherfucker is DONE, so I can DO STUFF this weekend!

Speaking of stuff, saw 9 on a complete lark with my friends, last night. (I'm not even bothering to italicize the title...)

Pretty freakin sweet, you guys. The animation made me a happy camper, on top of the whole post-apocalyptic landscape thing. So, yeah. I enjoyed it.
I also bought two shirts from Hot Topic, one of which is a Tripp shirt with black and white bands, you know the kind. You look like an inmate and about 20lbs heavier if you're not built like a heroin addict. I love the thing, shut up.
The second shirt was this fantastic little number that I gave to my friend, because it was clearly made for him. It's black and has rainbow letters across the front that say, "Mom, I'm Gay."
This guy is gay as hell, and his mom is oblivious. Like I said, made for him.

I have class in about forty minutes, so I'm just killing time before the WEEKEND.
Also, toying with the thought of changing my major to Psych. Seems pretty cool...

ANYWAY.


(ps- if you're curious, here's the piece I was talking about. God, I hate its face.)