Ok, so today I am back at my own workspace. In the basement.
It feels lonely and I can't breath so I am leaving.
It's to noisy.
And dirty.
I feel people stepping on my head, and they are accually... There are six floors of people walking above my head.
It is nice to be back here, with all my crap.
I feel at home.
In a few hours I did so much work. Also it's shitty weather so I don't mind be here...
Someone just cursed... Hmmm...
I packed my stuff for my little exhibition. Just need to finish one work then it's done.
So fancy...
This place gives me the chills, but I was able to write what I want to do to people when they experience my work.
The next person who reads it will probably say how fucking wrong I am and then laugh because for some reason I am a fucking 12 year old.
Old woman issues.
I should be hapy I look so young...
NO.
So friday it is happening.
It's nice to be a second year, more access to more stuff.
I have a place with windows.
I borrowed walls to hang stuff TAPE, I need to buy tape (writes it down somewere she will forget to look).
I got rejected again.
