I’m in transition. It’s a softer way to say I’m in between jobs. I’ve never been unemployed in my life. This new status is bizarre and at the same time full of opportunity but my darky brain doesn’t want to see it that way. Thus I don’t sleep. I wait to hear back, I wait for the call that will put everything into motion.

At the Musée d’art contemporain, Montreal.


Why is it that the things we do as “work” only count as such when there is money involved? Why isn’t everything work?

I make lists in my head, I plan, I fill my time doing things I dreamed about when I was a full time employee, minus the expenses. These things include:

Drawing and painting
Doing a 30 day workout challenge and not missing a day so far.
Taking an illustrative design class that convinces me that I could be an artistic designer someday.
Going to museums
Spending an afternoon doing lettering and calligraphy with a friend
Taking notes about what I read
Watching people in the subway and in the library.
Planning on going on a safari to hunt a Gelli Plate
Opening my eyes again.

Ideal afternoon of color and tea

Nevertheless, at night, in bed, I cross the day in my calendar and I wonder why nothing moved. How tricky our minds are.
Last year at the same time, I was trapped and wishing I wasn’t. Now I’m free and wishing I was trapped.