Maybe I Will

She hasn't written in a while. She must be going through some sort of crazy life transition. Or maybe she has a paper due. Or she's depressed. I'm sure she'll tell us all about it soon. Yawn. Ho-Hum.

Yeppers. All of the above, except the depression part. For once. Nia has pretty much nipped that in the bud for now. Thanks be.

Hey! Here's a picture of my sock puppet inner critic. She has loads of opinions, but doesn't tell you about them. She just makes this face, and you have to guess at what she's thinking, and what you imagine is always worse than anything that could really be:



My fabulous and inspiring friend LN had all of us hopeless creatives over for a recovering artist's night on Monday night. To celebrate her 40th birthday and our tragic artist wannabe-ness, we made sock puppets of our inner critics, those voices that tell us we can't do it, we're not good enough, nobody wants us to express ourselves, our butts are too fat (okay, that's my personal thing), that sort of thing.

Hey! And here's a picture of some homemade labels. On some upcycled clothes.



I'm pretending I might take some of my clothes into a little consignment boutique in Golden. I might not, but I'm pretending I will. Who knows? Maybe if that stupid critic will shut the fuck up, I may.

Or not.

We'll see.