Designated Doodler

What's one of your best memories involving your friends? First week of Junior year, we had just moved into our apartment and my three new roommates and I didn't know each other very well. Someone (Jessica) popped in the terrible 80s movie Revenge of the Killer Clowns and we laughed and ate popcorn and bonded for the first time.  What was your favorite class? Well...I might have to say painting. I learned so much and those are skills that I can take with me forever. I also loved those professors; a hippie and a sweet southerner. I understood that class, it understood me, I always looked forward to going, and it was relaxing. What was your least favorite class? Boy, it might be a toss up between 3D Design and World Geography. 3D Design was labor intensive, my professor was...a trip...and I could never seem to succeed in that class. World Geo was incredibly labor intensive, was a 3 hour Thursday night class and every time I left I was partially convinced that the w...

I think in the shower and take vacations in pints of ice cream. If my mind gets caught in webs of thoughts as I try to fall asleep at night I turn on my other side to swipe them away. The oddest dreams tend to follow me. I set a train of thought in motion in hopes of dreaming of those particular things or people but my dreams never end up there. I don't think I have a good melodic voice but I sing beautifully in paint. Wide strokes of glossy bright paint that have the consistency of melted bubble gum in July swipe across white canvases. There is no time when I paint, reality collapses and expands in waves like the heaving chest of a living animal. Heavy fumes hang in the air around my work and leak out of metal tubes. My hands turn into rainbows, but I try not to let my clothes. I wonder which makes my paintings, my hands or my heart. I am always trying to make sense out of everything; to look far into things I can't yet see. I wonder what it is I can control. I wonder if c...

There once was a spider That got lit on fire Maybe not roasted But at least a little toasted Because it has 8 legs And is truly gross A person grabbed a lighter And had a spider roast It's far too furry And has too many eyes And it's revolting demeanor Led to its ultimate demise

I have loved Superman for a long time. The comic art has always been striking and the story is beautifully simple yet emotionally complex. This corn-fed all-American man is a part of the US' pop culture history. He may wear his underwear on the outside but don't be fooled. This super hero is the hero of other super hero's; the embodiment of America's unfailing spirit to rise above.

I'm not very good at letting go. I'm good at getting attached. So when I think about my own relatives leaving this world for the next one, although knowing it's a better place, I still find it unnerving. My Uncle Jimmy is the sweetest old man. He eats at Panera so much that they know him by name. He talks about the local colleges and students and all that they accomplish. He loves the town he lives in with a fervor. He speaks of his late wife like she was an angel, even before she left to be one. He loves art and nature and beauty and is such a kind man. When I look at him I can see the artist in me. And although I, living several states away, didn't get to see him all the time I can't imagine his house empty. I can't imagine him not being there to visit. The odds are that you, the reader of this blog, have no idea who this sweet man is. But he is exactly the kind of person that you would wish you knew.

From: http://www.healthcarecommunication.com/Main/Articles/8750.aspx