Giles, here are some preliminary photos of the room I spend the most time in these days (when I am not ass wiping or chiseling onion). My chambre. Sham Bra, a work in forever progress. I hung my two favorite coats above my bed to remind myself upon waking that winter won't last forever. JJ found me that incredible Croc Slaying hat (I have been watching too many minutes of Swamp People for inspiration) on our last thrifting hustle in Pie IX. Pee Neuf. Wow, I had not cruised for clothes in so long. It was crazy to fly through aisles and look up to see Loco and JJ doing the same thing! The three of us, thrifting. What a delight.
The weeks are WHIPPING by; sand through finger time. My portfolio is ALLLLLLMOST done-- hallelujah. One more stencil to whip up tonight after my last Pain Tolerance study at McGill. Last night I stencilled late into the night (two o'clock rock) and I cannot even begin to explain the feeling of standing outside on my back balcony (yes, we have two!) spray painting away onto the last of the maple veneer I had saved from Erin and Rude's wedding invitations. Title page, you are fucking out. Swamphand is really coming together. I hope to publish it someday. Lofty, but hopeful.
This weekend is bound to be ready, set, WILD with all the Pieces in my life celebrating, with my first Nuit Blanche (woohooo! Montreal throws wide the doors of all art institutions, hosting art parties all over the city. Galleries and transportation are free for the taking). I am going to take, take, take it alllll in as Lola's left wing. I have a hunch the Cat mask that Erin sent in her last epic package will be making a sly appearance. Anyway, I am going to finish this thang tonight, once and for all. While walking out the door for work, Virginie reminded me kindly that it probably won't be a stencil that makes or breaks my acceptance to Concordia. It was nice to hear. She is right. Everything else is finito.