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I’ve been sketching all sorts of city scenes lately and finally decided to go out to a café and work on getting it sketched out onto some watercolor paper.

I miss working on art at Bauhaus café. It wasn’t as dead as I would have expected it to be on a Wednesday night in Missoula, but it definitely wasn’t alive. Probably the wrong place. I wish I could find where other artists go instead of overhearing flirting about how she is crap with art. The cliché can’t draw a stick figure line en cue.

I started reading Down and Out in Paris and London and the first chapter renewed my love of falling apart compact architecture (as if it needed a renewal…).

I got a lot of complements today for looking “sharp.” As well as a complement from my French professor who said that I should be in the higher level class because it seems to come so naturally to me and that he thought it was surprising that French was the class that would bring down my grade point average back in high school … I kind of wonder if he thought that by bringing down my grade point that I didn’t mean the occasional high C or low B. I don’t really exude the honor class student image, or at least I don’t think so.. Then again I am the only one who wears a tie to class, or other nice (alright most of them have tears, or holes, or stains, or sewed back together with dental floss, but they still look nice) formal clothes.
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