I think I'm stuck in one of life's transititory periods. I'm making progress, I know I'm making progress. But for some reason, Every day is beginning to blend into the next- the same with the weeks- for a reason I can't identify. The scariest part has been that I feel like I missed Fall. I walked in the woods one time, and then I woke up on December 7th. The day that will live in infamy. It was infamous because I suffered one of the worst critiques of my artistic career. This was a broadcast statement, as the rest of my classmates also suffered. Anyhow, my next big thing is Germany. I'll see my grandparents for the first time since June(?). I can hardly believe six months has passed since moving out of home for the first time
















