Once and a while I will think about it, but somehow I talk myself out of it since I don't truly have much of importance to say.
Lately, I've been rather restless. Thinking about places to go and what I want to do. I've been away from school for a while and I know that I have to finish it up; but where? I tend to romanticize places until I'm there when all of it's flaws and seedy bits are thrust in my face in the most unignorable way.
I'm searching for a place that's manageably small, but not small enough to get tired or boring too quickly. Obviously some place that has a good art department. Not too urban but not too rural. Somewhere that has a life pulse, a history. Does that sound too new agey?
Either way, I've got to get on it. Got to get on the track I need in order to make the things happen that I want.
I'm not sure if you've seen the latest issue of Vanity Fair, but it's featuring some totally gorgeous photos of Anna Friel.
I'm still bitter that ABC cancelled Pushing Daisies. Quirky, kitschy, saccharinely sweet. I never wanted it to end.
My name is Malinda Jane. I don't know lots of things. I'm skilled at running away. I collect found objects. I love the smell of lavender and mint. I throw clean clothes in piles on my floor. I never make the bed. Strangers make me nervous. I drive like an old woman. I draw on paper napkins.
I write a blog about art and fashion and food and life.