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I should be proud of myself... I've accomplished a lot today. I slept in a little late, but I got to class on time, actually knew all the answers for the quiz, stayed alert during class, then went to the darkroom and got two prints done. Unfortunately, I've been getting increasingly frustrated with my negatives, so... I don't quite know what to do about that. I need to stop being lazy about putting up the tripod, I think. Hopefully things will look up once I nail things down a bit more over break. (I've got four more rolls of film left to shoot.)
I also walked straight into the darkroom wall before I turned the lights on. I've got a bruise over my eyebrow. I imagine it'll look very fetching by morning. I'd feel a little more embarrassed if it was a normal wall, and not a black one in a pitch black room, but still... walking into it with enough force to bruise myself is pretty bad. Probably further proof that I've been (and continue to be) a freaking zombie this quarter. This is what I get for taking poetry and short stories. My two weakest areas in literature. Short stories have kind of won me over, or at least redeemed themselves. Poetry still stands in an odd spot with me. It's just so hard to make it work, and it's so arbitrary and... well, really, I need to stop complaining about it.
The sun's been out the past few days though. I still can't say I'm doing well, but at least I'm... surviving a bit easier. I'm not sure if it's the sun that's made me happier lately, or if it's got to do with me actually writing again. And writing for myself, sort of (I have no idea if the journal has to be turned in in the end or not). No intention of sharing any of it yet, because I'm still way self-conscious. Especially after everything I've read this quarter. My style needs so much work... Ugh.
I also walked straight into the darkroom wall before I turned the lights on. I've got a bruise over my eyebrow. I imagine it'll look very fetching by morning. I'd feel a little more embarrassed if it was a normal wall, and not a black one in a pitch black room, but still... walking into it with enough force to bruise myself is pretty bad. Probably further proof that I've been (and continue to be) a freaking zombie this quarter. This is what I get for taking poetry and short stories. My two weakest areas in literature. Short stories have kind of won me over, or at least redeemed themselves. Poetry still stands in an odd spot with me. It's just so hard to make it work, and it's so arbitrary and... well, really, I need to stop complaining about it.
The sun's been out the past few days though. I still can't say I'm doing well, but at least I'm... surviving a bit easier. I'm not sure if it's the sun that's made me happier lately, or if it's got to do with me actually writing again. And writing for myself, sort of (I have no idea if the journal has to be turned in in the end or not). No intention of sharing any of it yet, because I'm still way self-conscious. Especially after everything I've read this quarter. My style needs so much work... Ugh.
