and I must admit, Irina Ionesco is goddess.  There is none like her, one of a kind chilling beauty of being a women. Every time I think I have moved on, I come back 

My mind has been blooming with ideas and creative knowledge lately, but too sad for poor little me all the dumb class work I have to do, no time is left to create. I need to envelop myself in an atmosphere of the other world, and i keep telling myself, one day one day...one day I'll move out, one day I'll get out of here, but maybe they all are silly excuses. I am like most, a procrastinator with a hand full of excuses and head full of dreams and there's those attention span problems, the carelessness of the moment is just too alluring.  

I guess all that leads to this: my tightly sewed up eyes were ripped open. Yes i think ripped is the right word, it was forceful and it was painful, but all of a sudden my outlook on the world has greatly changed. Not just on the world but also on the things I do and things I create, and why i create them, you know, that bigger picture everyone seems to be talking about and rarely finds. I like to think I set my foot on the right path, it seems dark ahead for now and I don't know how long before the sun will rise, but the other path is a deadend. So so so, what I'm saying is I will experiment with art, do everything I was too afraid or incapable of doing before. I want to find the edge of that metaphorical box and join Damien Hirst on the other side, because I know that bastard is waiting! In the end I might create a different dA and have it as an alter ego sort of thing until it will become who I am...we'll see, thinking ahead is too much right now. 

I've discovered this amazing piece, gloves made out of teabags and velevt. Im not too sure why it fascinates me this much.

and me sleeping in the snow, part of the assignment I might revel a lot latter