Art

Dear Anyone,
I'd like to let you know that whether you draw or write or take pictures or do some other form of creative media, you aren't a bad artist. I've had a lot of people think I'm a really fantastic artist, yet I feel like other artists like http://djcoulzanimalsonly.deviantart.com/ or http://madameleota.deviantart.com/ are better, so I have a new theory. I draw what I see, and therefore I like what I draw. It's how I see the world. So you think my wolves look like lions? That's alright, maybe I see wolves that way. There is no "good" or "bad" artist, just a unique point of view of the world. Today, I started to draw a trash can sitting in front on me, and it ended up being a laser-shooting robot surrounded by other evil animated inanimate objects. In my mind, things like this happen all the time. So, if you feel inferior to me or any other artist, don't. Don't listen to people criticize and tell you how talented (or untalented) you are. If you want to draw LIKE someone else, you want to draw DIFFERENT, not better. And don't trace, be original, and show your uniqueness.
Just a word to the wise: Draw what you see, and you can't go wrong.
Love to you all,
Scar

In Sickness and in Health-5/16/10

Sunday, I wake up. I flip on my clock. 8:07. I swear under my breath. I hadn't fallen asleep until close to 1 AM because of HER and HER friends. Now THEY had woken me up. Wasn't the saying, "Let sleeping dogs lie?" Growling, I flip on the TV and change between cartoons and music videos for an hour before Mom comes in to get me up. I go to the bathroom, dress, and take the dog for a walk. When I get home, I wait for THEM to leave before I get a couple bowls of spaghetti and a glass of punch. No protein value, no iron value, and I refused to take my pills.
Back in my room later, I watch more TV. I feel my neck start to cramp like it does whenever I lay down without sleeping. I ignore it and focus on the screen until I start to feel nauseous. I'm hungry, but I don't want to get food when SHE is in the kitchen, apparently in a bad mood. Again, I go back to watching TV.
Finally, when I can stand it no longer, and when I run out of shows, I turn the TV off, and push myself up. I slowly make my way into my Mom's room and swallow my pride long enough to say, "I don't feel good." After she massages my neck, I sit in a corner trying to keep my neck straight as she offers me every type of painkiller and food in her room. I force down 2 Tylenol Time Release and some water. I start feeling like I'm going to hurl, so Mom hands me the trash can. I hope not to puke, though I would feel better. Vomit is the one bodily fluid I can't stand. I am able to get it away from the back of my throat successfully and go back to my corner. After a while I take Tums, which causes Dixie to appear from under the bed. I laugh at my dog and her addiction to the "candy." I try to eat some macaroni, but it only brings the stomach contents back around. Mom suggests nuts, and I nod. Pulling out some cashews, they instantly help me feel better.
I am able to lay on her bed and watch crime shows until I fall asleep. When I wake up, I feel refreshed. I hear rain hitting the metal roof. I take Dixie for another walk when it stops. I smile at the world as it has renewed itself while I slept. When I get back to the house, Dixie was not doing as I asked, so I got mad. So, nothing can help with my temper, but I still feel better than I've felt in months. She eats, and Mom and I go to McDonald's and I order 2 burgers and a small fry. We stop at Hometown for Mom, then Burger King for Coke. Finally, we get groceries and restock on candy. It's always useful to have a supply of THAT in the house, just in case this happens again. Back at home, SHE nags about bringing in groceries, heaven forbid we eat and take up space in HER fridge. SHE also informs us she might be "selling the trailer." Something she's said before, but we're all feeling a bit hostile lately, so Mom and I will start looking. If you know of a place that's about $650, and not a roach nest, please let me know.

Daily Log 1/28-1/30/10

I felt fine all day. Took 2 Fetrin and ate Life (c) cereal for breakfast. I ate an apple in PE, and a cheese sandwich for lunch. Or was it fried chicken? I don't remember. For dinner, we had Burger King(c), and I ate: 6 chicken nuggets, most of a medium fry, and a medium Coke (c).
--
I again felt fine most of the day. Took 1 Fetrin in the morning, drank a Minute Maid (c) apple juice, ate Life (c) cereal, a bag of Lays (c) original potato chips, and (definitely) a cheese sandwich. I began to get a headache about 4 pm, hungry about 5 pm, and slightly light-headed about 5:15 pm. By the time Mom picked me up at 630, it had all passed. I had rotini for dinner.
--
Got up around 9:45 am, ate 2 bowls of Life (c) cereal with milk, drank 2 glasses of TG Lee fat free milk with chocolate, and took 1 Fetrin. My allergies were acting up, and Mom was just feeling off, so we cancelled Dixie's grooming. After cleaning our rooms, I had Progresso (c) chicken and rice soup with bread while Mom had Cambell's (c) tomato with cheese and milk. We watched Open Season 2 and Phineas & Ferb in her room for a few hours while I drew, and I had no problems. We are planning to make pollo y arroz while babysitting tonight.

Daily Log 1/27/10

I was feeling fine until about 8 or 830 pm. I had had dinner at Chick-Fil-A before that (6 nuggets, 1/2 large fry, large Coke). Around 8/830, I had just returned from walking my dog and was making lunch for the next day. I started feeling light headed and shaky. I finished with the cereal, put my tupperware away, and made a glass of chocolate milk. I had to sit down to drink it because clutching the counter wasn't efficiently keeping me upright. I could barely muster the strength to pull the chair out, and I kind of fell into it. Ruth came in as I was washing the glass, and instantly realized I wasn't looking right. I told her I was fine and that I just needed the sugar and/or protein of the milk kick in. She knocked on Mom's door as I went into my room with the intent to lay on my bed. I made it into the doorway and folded up onto the floor. I couldn't keep much thought. Mom came in and said I was pale and very shaky. I couldn't find much to say, nor do I remember what I said. I had to pull hard on the hand she offered me to stand myself up. I shuffled back to the kitchen and flopped back into the chair. I put my head down and suddenly was nowhere at all. I knew that I was sitting, and Mom was shuffling around looking for juice or something, and talking to Ruth, though I could not comprehend the words. Their voices were very distant, and a second felt like an hour. I could not feel the carpet, table or chair. My hands were cold and my body was sweaty. Mom finally got me a bottle of water and two Fetrin. After 20 minutes, I was told I was looking better and shaking less. I could focus and talk.