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Tuesday, December 4, 2012

tan·gi·ble /ˈtanjəbəl/


Perceptible by touch.

A thing that is perceptible by touch.

palpable - concrete - touchable - real - tactile

One of my favorite things about art is that it is tangible.  Every thing about art is tangible.  The materials, the waste, the objects created.   Obviously I am a 2D artist and that is what I am referring to.  Another thing that is tangible is mail.  Real delivered to your door (or postbox) mail.  I'm guilty of not writing as many real letters as I should.  It really is a lost art, and if you are looking for a New Years resolution, it's a good one:  More letter writing. 

Sunday morning I opened my mail from the day before and I was pleasantly surprised to have a real honest to goodness heart felt letter from a friend. It really was perfect timing too.  Remember the job interview I had a couple weeks ago?  The one where 200+ other applicants applied for a part time receptionist position?  I recieved an email Sunday morning informing me that they hired someone else.  Part of me was relieved, as I felt like I was about to cheat on my boyfriend, Painting.  But the other part of me was freaked out.  I can't even land a part time job that I have more than enough experience with?  But then I remembered the words in the letter, and they ring all too true.  I hope my friend doesn't mind me sharing.  "I'm glad you're doing your own thing instead of slamming yourself with the ridiculous job search.  What a joke that whole thing is.  People like us were not meant for the occupational death marches of today.  We have to find alternatives because the options they offer are soul death. What's the point?!"

I couldn't have said it better myself!  Some people are meant for the daily grind, the 9-5 or the 8-7 everyday all day, in a cubical, producing, tasking, working for the man.  I'm not one of them.  At least not right now.  It's not in my blood.  Or my genes to be exact, I come from a long line of immigrants, explorers, Gypsy's, and hippies.  I'm the first college graduate in my family, the first one to have a desk job, and the first one to tell you this isn't the life I was meant to lead.  At least not right now.  That could change.  I know of a job coming up in the spring that might be perfect for me.  Not sitting at a desk every day.  But for now, I'm putting my brush to the canvas and my ink to the paper.  I don't have much money, but I have my freedom.  And I have time to stay up late talking to my friends and time to get up early to go to yoga with them.  and that time with friends is worth way more than a new car or a big house or fancy clothes.   

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