So homegirl just gave me a call a bit ago. She woke me up, actually, but it's okay, cause lately I've been sleeping in a lot more than I should be. Made me remeber this thing she told me about how guys, when they are drepressed, tend to sleep a lot, whereas ladies tend to eat more. I kinda think that it may be true... but I don't feel that depressed. Huh.
Anyway, she got back from being in Laguna. Apparently she was checking out a bunch of job prospects or something. It makes me feel kinda juvenile when my ex-girl is telling me about all these (and god I hate this phrase) "real world" kind of big kid jobs for companies or banks and shit. Kind of like I'm still 19 and figuring out how to be an adult. I'm pretty sure I have it down to some semblance of mimicry tho, so I guess it's not as bad as I make it out to be.
Then I remember that ALL jobs are in the "real world," and that putting some arbitrary value on one job over another only serves to make you feel less content with what you may be doing. Sure, I'm a manual laborer (of sorts. Is being a cobbler really manual labor?), but I still live and work in a world just as "real" as everyone else. Still, I wouldn't mind getting paid to draw shit in photoshop for some Design firm. I should look into how much my soul can go for these days.
Speaking of selling my soul, I think I'll put up a few images of the shit I'm doing for this guy in Portland. I hope his t-shirt shit goes well; maybe I could figure out a small cut of some of his shit. Or something. Whatever. The pics aren't super fancy, but I drew one last night that is SO FRESH I can't really belive I did it with the intent to sell it to someone for money. Maybe I'm just old school about how art should be. I dunno. Fuck it.
I'm off to shave, shower, and work. Peace.
- Duone DSL DPK
(PS: So I went ahead and uploaded that crap. It's in the aptly named "Sellout" folder. This is the "shit" part that I referred to WAY back in like my first or second post ever. But anyway, lemmie know what you folks think. Would you want any of that crap on a t-shirt? Or something?)
Anyway, she got back from being in Laguna. Apparently she was checking out a bunch of job prospects or something. It makes me feel kinda juvenile when my ex-girl is telling me about all these (and god I hate this phrase) "real world" kind of big kid jobs for companies or banks and shit. Kind of like I'm still 19 and figuring out how to be an adult. I'm pretty sure I have it down to some semblance of mimicry tho, so I guess it's not as bad as I make it out to be.
Then I remember that ALL jobs are in the "real world," and that putting some arbitrary value on one job over another only serves to make you feel less content with what you may be doing. Sure, I'm a manual laborer (of sorts. Is being a cobbler really manual labor?), but I still live and work in a world just as "real" as everyone else. Still, I wouldn't mind getting paid to draw shit in photoshop for some Design firm. I should look into how much my soul can go for these days.
Speaking of selling my soul, I think I'll put up a few images of the shit I'm doing for this guy in Portland. I hope his t-shirt shit goes well; maybe I could figure out a small cut of some of his shit. Or something. Whatever. The pics aren't super fancy, but I drew one last night that is SO FRESH I can't really belive I did it with the intent to sell it to someone for money. Maybe I'm just old school about how art should be. I dunno. Fuck it.
I'm off to shave, shower, and work. Peace.
- Duone DSL DPK
(PS: So I went ahead and uploaded that crap. It's in the aptly named "Sellout" folder. This is the "shit" part that I referred to WAY back in like my first or second post ever. But anyway, lemmie know what you folks think. Would you want any of that crap on a t-shirt? Or something?)
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Laters!