It's the early afternoon and I'm about to head out for a minimal impact Saturday. Usually you can find me primping or reading the news or making a killer breakfast (or lunch if it's late enough) on Saturday mornings. I sleep in until about 10 and don't finish my chill until around 1 or 2 pm. The place where I reside is a bizarre contradiction of time and place in every sense; it's not quite the middle of nowhere and it's not quite somewhere big, it's not the backwoods, suburbs, or an urban center by any means, but it has elements of all three. That's the product of what you get for living in a place that changed the center of town 3 times in 150 years and is plunked right in the middle of Alaska's version of the American car-transportation-loving rat race. It's obvious that the sense of place is important in every aspect of your life and living in a place with multiple personality disorder leaves you with an uneasy, uncomfortable worldly sense.
I just finished throwing some threads in the laundry and I'm going to head out for coffee. Wearing a dorky tattoo t-shirt I'm not up to do much impressing looks-wise, I'm only out to a local joint down the road. I've got some Spicebomb by Viktor and Rolf sprayed on and that's what is summing up my manner. It's new and fresh but it's relaxed and kinda hunky, if you will. Like I said, not trying to impress, but sometimes I get wrapped up and try to impress myself.
After coffee, not sure, I might engage in a couple of ink drawings. Working on new tattoo ideas and I'm also trying to create some grungey, post-modern calligraphy posters.
What am I going to get to drink?
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