paid all my bills the other day. paid rent early. trying to figure out what all I need to carry around with me. thinking about that story "The Things They Carried".
did some sketches of a landscape for landscape class the other day, outdoors without my easel, and it felt good and right. But this probably won't feel like that.
Leaving my home tomorrow. won't come back 'til Tuesday at the earliest. a part of me wishes I could leave right now. I don't know why. I suddenly realize that ever since I was a kid I've hated having to have a home. I've always wished I could be . . . away. absent.
I hate place so much. thinking now of Picasso's statement about African masks "I too am against everything. I too think everything is other. Everything is enemy. Everything!" I can identify with that.