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Jul. 22nd, 2030

And then in all my ardor sharing, The silent form expression found; Returned my kiss of youthful daring, And understood my heart's quick sound. Then lived for me the bright creation. The silver rill with song was rife; The trees, the roses shared sensation, An echo of my boundless life. )


Jan. 29th, 2017

I have never given wood sculpture much thought. I prefer the beauty of ceramic and stone. The inconsistency in wood does nothing more than build a house or give me oxygen. However, after seeing some modest sculpture done with wood in this century, I decided to show how well it could be done, instead of seeing the amateur work among my artistic colleges. It makes my time behind a locked door worth my efforts.

Jun. 22nd, 2016

I wonder who's brilliant idea it was to put me down on the summer class roster. I had no intention of teaching these indignant and moronic kids. I have no more patience for them for at least another two weeks. What happened to my vacation?

There had to be that one student that insisted on art for his summer class. It couldn't be sociology or some other paper pushing English class? I have a mind to give them all a paper to write for my own sanity and fail them all anyway.

May. 9th, 2016

Thank gods for summer on the horizon. I look forward to getting away from the college campus (at least for a week). I thought I was teaching adults not babies in pajamas who come waltzing in late. I do not tolerate tardiness. It's one of easiest ways to fail my class.

Yet, every one of them think it's a game.


They won't when have to take another semester in order to graduate the end of May.

Mar. 23rd, 2016

I never had any faith in humanity. The constant chattering I hear in class, or the things these kids find entertaining. Their mental state is a far cry from genius. They spend their time online on twitter, or snapchat and instagram. They're all looking for the same thing---companionship. And what is that really? Just some drivel our mind tells us is necessary.

I've been away on leave, and starting to think it wasn't long enough.

May. 30th, 2014

[strikes readable]

Thank gods I don't have to spend my summer with students. So glad to see them disappear. I'll be very clear, but Photoshop is not art. Collaging things in a pile of clippings and pasting them together is not art. When I ask for ideas for a project, I don't want to see pictures I can print off the Internet.

Clearly, this is a break for my sanity. I'm done with students. I'm done with a lot of things....

Maybe the creation is always greater than any one mind can really put together. I'm struggling with what I've always envisioned and what it really is.

Galatea, I miss you.

Apr. 8th, 2014

My class is for work. For creativity. Not hiding behind a ipad watching bootlegged superhero movies. This is art class not a movie previewing of Captain America. I'm disappointed in anyone that chooses to not actually participate in my class. Watch your grade drop and you'll suffer because if you do not put forth an effort, I give you nothing in return.

See how you blast your way out of a F. See if Marvel can give you better grades.

Dec. 29th, 2013

Clay was popular in the Rodin era, but now it seems to be the new norm. Ivory and stone is almost a thing of the past. Clay used to be a potters work, but now it seems to have sprung a new life. Some of it often garish. I've never myself worked with polymer clay, but it seems a prospect of the future if just to prove it's weaknesses compared to old school.

Oct. 6th, 2013

I am still quite skeptical about the newest addition to Leonardo's collection of known works. There are some inconsistencies. As always, isn't it too good to be true? Never a more heartfelt statement. The silver lining comes with a catch.

Sep. 14th, 2013

Galatea, if I were to ask you to a gallery opening would you go? As my date. Girlfriend seems a little too early to say.

I think I had a little too much wine with my dinner...

Aug. 24th, 2013

Modern art is not art! I refuse to get into these installation pieces that all cater to the same question. What is art? Yes, it is an expression of one's inner emotions, the underlining structure of political and social values of the artist and society. It is all an expression. I however do not find a toilet planted in the middle of a room as any other expression than complete garbage. The artist must have no concept of beauty or who they are as a person. The fact that my students try to convey the same laziness with work and turn it into art is not genius. It is absurd.

Jun. 6th, 2013

“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”

Nearing the end in Wuthering Heights. Either losing my soul, or my dreams are making a mockery of me. It's on the verge of trying to tell me something. I'd rather know than not know, but I can't help but feel a little frightened. I feel like it might end like this book. I was horrible to have picked it up again. I hate this book.

May. 11th, 2013

With the break between semesters, I've dived into my library. In re-reading Wuthering Heights I am reminded at how truly horrible losing someone close to you can be. My mind had blocked it out for so long. Being alone was and is suitable for me---but it is also incredibly lonely.

It's only a few days.

Whatever our souls are made of, we are the same.

May. 9th, 2013

[Pygmalion had a lot of old and new things fighting for his brain space these days. He and Galatea were still trying to build some kind of bridge between the them. They were learning together what it meant to understand both worlds---he coming from the past, her the present---and how to collaborate. It was still a mental and emotional seesaw. He had to admit knowing she was in the city (and so close by) that he liked it. As awkward of a start as they had going into this (the first date was an indication), knowing she was in Hawaii now made him worry subconsciously. In his dream he remembered something unpleasant. A time in London when they were fighting (over what he still didn't know). She felt distant then, mentally distant. Right now she was physically distant but his mind saw no difference. He had this fear that she might just forget him.]

[Text to Galatea]

It may be about a three hour difference as now it's nearly midnight here, but I needed...

[He pauses waiting to send the rest of his message because it feels like his heart might just leap clear out of his throat.]

How are you?

Apr. 15th, 2013

By some miracle I think my week is getting better. I'm either really pathetic or fate decided to be kind to me.

Apr. 1st, 2013

This has got to be the worst few weeks of my life. I'm at a loss. I'm completely uncomfortable with myself and that hasn't happened in the longest time. I'd say the universe is playing some awful trick, that this is just my April Fool's, but I think this isn't a joke. Maybe I can wake up from this nightmare.

They used to think I was crazy, praying to a goddess to give me love. Now I question my own motives. I never have except when she's around.

Mar. 23rd, 2013

[Pygmalion's world came crashing down when he found his greatest creation and she rejected his existence. He was losing his confidence. It pulled his heart inside out because she was the only woman he had ever changed for. Now it was becoming just a faded memory...]

I might as well have had my hands chopped off at the wrist after last night. It might have been less painful.

Mar. 4th, 2013

These children know nothing of art. The entire modern movement is lost on me. There is no thought or expression other than "I thought it would be cool." Cool? That is hardly a word to describe something on the magnitude of Michaelangelo. Granted he was horrible at the women he crafted out of marble. Rumor was he preferred men.

The point is, there is no expression anymore. It's a useless pile of ideas with no substance. The girls in my class are the worst. They care more about how they look in class than their projects. I should fail them all.

Feb. 18th, 2013

I've only ever desired one woman in my life. The rest are of no interest to me. I don't fall for a pretty face because there has only been one so beautiful.

What trickery was this? Aphrodite, I pay my tribute to you, I don't imagine you would do such a thing to a patron who values you so highly above the rest.

I'm disgusted with myself.

Dec. 19th, 2012

Exams are over. The projects that were turned in for the semester were a disappointment. I found nothing worth giving a passing grade to. Maybe I should have tortured them with an essay, but I really didn't want to spend my next two weeks grading and reading such rubbish.

I need to celebrate that I'm done with grades. I expect better things next semester.

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