Querencia (n):
In bullfighting, the area of the ring chosen by the bull where it feels secure.
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In bullfighting, the area of the ring chosen by the bull where it feels secure.
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that Caravaggio was a bad-ass?
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As Ani sings, “sometimes there’s poetry written right on the bathroom wall”.
And sometimes inspiration for your next job can be found lining your trash bin:
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In the past week I have:
1. | Suffered agonizing back pain. |
2. | Tried not to succumb to depression due to back pain. |
(The plan was to get into the studio full bore once I got |
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home from my London visit – hit the ground running so to |
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speak. Instead I feel like I just hit the ground. Period.) |
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3. | Aided in the 4th annual Hallowe’en Extravanganza. |
What is the Hallowe’en Extravaganza you ask? Well…
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Me, for letting my daily post diligence fall off the wagon – several times – over the last month…
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Gentle readers, postings for Rich Little Poor Girl Fridays will be suspended indefinitely…at least until I come up with more brilliant ideas on how to stretch a loonie.
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Second draft. Still toying with motives and fine-tuning characters.
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Yikes. I warned you that posts might be sporadic. Back in Vancouver now, so the Muse should return to its former Daily glory.
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Hmmm…the full first draft. Crappy and inconsistent.
Today was low-key.
Woke up to a beautiful, sunny fall day in London.
Oh God, there is something in my mother’s kitchen cupboard that is so terrifying…
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tomorrow, bright and early, for a visit to my hometown: London, Ontario.
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Lesson #9: IS THERE MORE?
What more can I tell you?
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Previously on “The Wheel”…
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away from convention
into the unknown.
Hoping to live up to expectations
especially my own.
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Yesterday my subtle, elegant, gold curly-cue stud jumped out of my nose and, presumably, down the drain and off to the great sewage beyond.
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The following surfaced while ferreting through drawers, looking for something interesting to share with you.
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which will be tomorrow…
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Lesson #8: HAPPY-RICH AND DOLLAR-POOR
This week’s lesson has to do with a different kind of “rich”. I’m talking quality rather than quantity.
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My instructor warned us fledgling playwrights, “Writing a screenplay is harder than it looks.”
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My computer battery is all outta wack and playing silly buggars with me.
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Today I removed myself from the City P:Drive.
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z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z…
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This could well be a name for a pop-alt-cult band…
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should be washed out with soap. Here’s a conversation heard on the Expo Line this afternoon between a father and his five year old son:
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Lesson #7: JUST POOR ENOUGH
If your goal is working to live, not living to work, then you might want to consider being “just poor enough”.
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because I am too damn exhausted. Tomorrow morning. Promise.
In my continuing effort to obtain my official artist pedigree (BFA), this fall I am enrolled in an academic course at ECU.
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I just arrived home from having a two-hour, crash-visit with a fellow bealart grad that I haven’t seen in 20 years. We re-connected through Facebook (but of course). He’s on the west coast visiting family this week. We arranged to meet in Metrotown, of all places.
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