Apr. 29th, 2009

hoveringsombrero: (Default)
Lasterday when I was talking to the brother man, I was telling him he needs a relaxing hobby. So I suggested WHEN (am not saying if anymore, I'm insisting) he moves out here, we should take a painting class together.

I took a watercolour painting class, long ago, one summer semester just for the hell of it, and I really loved it. I actually learned things about perspective (that I promptly forgot when I quit practising it, I'm naturally shit at perspective), and the teacher took us outside a lot. There was a fabulous little overgrown garden place on campus to which he took us, I smoked occasionally at the time, so that was just heaven.

Would buy a cawfee before class, and sit in a garden with big watercolour pad of paper on an easel, and paint, very very relaxing.

And just now the brother man randomly called again, and we were talking, and I told him I'd gotten tired of pirate English on FB and changed it to German for the hell of it. Totally expecting to change it right back but I'm oddly enjoying it. So I said some things at him in my very limited German, and he responded in his even more limited German, then became annoyed when I said things he didn't understand. Which was more entertaining than it should have been.

So we decided, WHEN he moves out here, that we will take a painting class and a German class together.

It will be fabulous.
hoveringsombrero: (#!/usr/bin/eris)


The beer added in the picture came from conversations with Biff earlier, and I took this picture to text to him, not actually drinking das Bier mit deviled eggs, I'm not sure that would go too well. But it makes a nifty picture.

Walter.

Apr. 29th, 2009 07:56 pm
hoveringsombrero: (Default)
But there is always something forgotten. We all step willingly into the River Lethe, when memory is a burden and forgetfulness a blessing. What would I give to forget those endless Wednesdays, when the quacks at St Claire's would force us to make pasta collages. I told them I could design a revolutionary low-flow toilet if only I had penne, but the bastards would give me only elbow macaronis and shells!

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