I bought a very inexpensive fish-eye lens attachment thing. So far it doesn’t take the most flattering photos but i think i’ll spend some time on pinterest learning how people like to use fisheyes.
Today I did so0o much stuff. It’s now like 23:33 pm and I am a state but it doesn’t bother me – because at some silly time in the early morning, I finished the captions for Bernie’s 15 or so minute video (I kind of want to make it a bit longer – because I want her to discuss that she is exploring an exaggerated emotional range of her reality – I think it’s really funny and she will think it’s funny but I want anyone who watches it to understand that it is intended to be funny.)
She is very okay with performing the stereotype of the “crazy” british elderly lady that one might offer her upon first glance on one of her less-fancy-days, and I’m sure it’s because those are the parts she and her agent are pushing for her acting career and I really want to make it obvious that both I – the camera person and interviewer and editor – and she – the person being documented – know she’s being theatrical.
And then what is the barrier drawn between theatrical and histrionic? (And then: why has that become easier to convey through messages exchanged in text rather than through verbal communication… or oh god, has it?)
TL;DR – If I were the kind of person who could liason with the kind of persons who made films – I’m not – I’d love to ask one of those persons how to do that. How to tell the viewer that “this person is being an exaggeration of herself and she’s aware of how she might be perceived and she’s encouraging that, but it is still make believe” but also not undermine the fact that these are responses coming from a real place?
And then when I observe some of her comments – knowing that I’ve sat in her tarot office and seen a vision in her crystal ball – whether she has such a vibrant inner monologue because of all of the spiritual energies she must think of or surround herself with, perhaps without bothering to be aware of it.
I’ve spent the rest of the day painting and scribbling and then playing with the phone photos because I’m still too lazy to connect my scanner thingy. Also my bed is very comfortable.
This is not my usual style of illustration. It is a very emotive tentacle and ham burger.
I’m enjoying doing some pretend character design for Tithe, to get me back into practicing drawing.
I am trying to convey a means of illustrating of the people my inner child-self senses of their inner-child-selves.
I went to the local corner shop (it has fucking EVERYTHING but it is technically expensive) and I bought like, so much stuff. By so much stuff I mean – I purchased hot chocolate, coffee mate – apparently you don’t gain as much weight, which is fantastic cos I plan on pouring the nutella into the coffee anyway.
I don’t enjoy coffee that much but I’ve gotten a taste for it since I’ve been here.
I was thinking – like I know I’ve tried my very best to write exactly how much shit I went through, and for those that witnessed I proved so much true that it’s still so difficult to “get” – but I went through so much and waking up here made it just float away. Those kinds of breakthroughs, I know, are nigh on impossible in Psychiatry but I know I could lead people through the darkest places and thats nice.