August, 2014
Today we went into Boston to see the Magna Carta. There was a boy wandering about the station who was dressed normally but acted weird. His socks were tall, his shoes expensive, his T-shirt clean. But the way he glanced around himself and ambled around aimlessly seemed abnormal. He had a plastic waterbottle in his hand. He walked very close beside the tracks, slowly, then suddenly began tearing at the bottle with his teeth like a dog. I turned away in shock.
The sight of a girl with a mostly shaved head, wearing sheer tights with knee high socks distracted me, but I turned around at a rustle close beside me. Hunched over a trashcan, the boy was rooting through it with an anguished look on his face. He reached his arm deep down and pulled up the remains of a Dunk ‘n Donuts Styrofoam cup. I watched him raise it to his face. With horror, I realized he was going to drink. I jerked my eyes away and tried to tune out the sounds of frantic slurping to my right. Nobody else seemed to notice. After awhile, I looked back at him again. He was ripping the cup to shreds. First in half, then into quarters, eighths, sixteenths, smaller and smaller into the trash.
Some of my favorite paintings at the art museum were by Wyeth, a contemporary artist. I liked his Inferno Monhegan, Pumpkinhead Self-Portrait, Nureyev don Quixote. He painted the last on cardboard. It makes me feel better about my technique and materials, which are humble to say the least. Also included in the gallery, was a video of him painting the Inferno. It made me feel better about my formerly considered bad habit of using my fingers to paint. Wyeth has a good sense of humor, a non-conformist spirit, and a superior ability to think outside the box.
I stuffed myself at Chinatown. Until I felt almost sick. Lily and I used the men’s room and people kept tugging on the doorhandle and one guy yelled at us cuz he thought we were a man, I suppose. He was very blank-faced when two girls walked out. Lily and I fled the scene, guffawing.
Farewell. I’ve only got 30 more pages to write in my NaNoWriMo. I’ve written 75. YAYAY!