4/30/26 - 5/7/26 : Cake is life.

4/30/26

Behold! Herein lies a new poem I'm calling Shopping List:

 

• Vinegar Coffee

• Salt lettuce

• Paprika pickles

• Milk bagels

• Ground beef apples

• Turmeric Blueberries 

 

5/1/26 

I woke up around 4 a.m. again today and found myself perusing an artist's C.V. and comparing myself.

The art show I was a part of that's distinctly on my mind at all times was a drawing contest from eons ago when I was in the 4th grade. The theme was water conservancy and I got 3rd place. There's photos somewhere of me awkwardly smiling with the award next to my science teacher. After the awards were handed out, there was a little art show in a weird building of all the drawings made by me and the other pipsqueaks that beat me. Can any other art show even compare to this one? I doubt any ever will.

(Add to to-do list: create C.V. on website and find that one picture I'm thinking of of me standing next to my science teacher, award in hand, giving the most pained, awkward smile of my life. Have this be the only thing that exists on my C.V.)

 

Q: What is cake?

A: One of the most beautiful and perfect things in this life. It's my favorite thing to eat when I want to eat my feelings. My all-time favorite is the white sheet cake from Costco. I got the one with the colorful frosting candles that said "Happy Birthday!". That epically bright frosting is a visual inspiration. They didn't have any of these cakes on my birthday, so I got one months later to make up for the sad absence and pretended it was my birthday again. Pretending I can go back in time is fun. 

To summarize: cake is life.

I think people on dating sites may use their pets to cover up their boring personalities. I've met a few of these folks. I don't think they know they're boring, though. 

 

I saw a sign on a marquee that said "Dream big then go beyond that". Okay, sign. Will do!

 

My instinct will always be to run through the sprinklers.

 

4/2/26

I have a big cake-inspired pimple forming. It's worth it. I'm really savoring the cake and eating sickening amounts of it. It's joyous. 

 

I've been taking in old Sister Wendy segments on YouTube. One will find her saying the wildest things in her austere voice. She's so obviously horny for art. I'm guessing her general perspective on everything in life is hilariously austere, yet horny-as-hell. 

I was watching the video of her talking about the art at LACMA while eating my cake. It was sublime. Highly recommend the Sister Wendy/cake combo. Ten out of ten stars. 

 

4/3/26

What if I disappeared? Not permanently. But just turned into a cloud for awhile? Or a whisper? Or softness? That would feel good I think.

 

I'm always hearing how naming things you're grateful for is incredibly salubrious. Here it goes:

 

1. For the furry blanket that keeps me warm at night.

2. For the existence of underglaze pencils.

3. For the hope I always seem to carry. 

4. For the cancer drugs my mom is taking.

5. For the book about different artists that I'm currently half-way through.

6. For my current clay studio and how comfy it feels.

7. For my new glass water bottle. I haven't had a water bottle for awhile.

8. For my mom's upcoming physical therapy appointment.

9. For every moment I'm not harsh and don't judge myself and don't lose hope.

10. For my new habit of walking at least 10 minutes a day. I read somewhere that just 10 minutes is beneficial. It's been making me feel good like stretching does. 

11. For my ability to change things I need to change in my life even if the change happens slowly.

12. For good cake.

 

 

If I were a fish I'd want to be the hairy frogfish:

 

I feel this lingering disheartened anguish at losing them so soon after finding them. I'm assessing the empty space they left in my life. Trying to understand it. Their company made me feel like I was on Cloud 9. Their absence is a loss and all of it caught me off guard.

Finding them felt so joyous. I remember how elated I felt. I keep going over things I could've done differently. I sweat the details and sift through them thoroughly like I'm looking for a very important needle in a haystack. I wish I had gotten to kiss them more, at the very least. I really wanted them in my life. They added to it in such a big way right from the start. In a world full of people that are wrong for me they always felt unequivocally like the right person for me. 

I'm wondering if it's possible to only think about art and my art career and stop thinking about my love life entirely. At least for awhile. I don't think it is, but I can give it a go I guess.

Thoughts of Death are at the forefront of my mom's thoughts. She was speaking so frankly about it today. To have something in your body actively trying to kill you, and it's something rare that most people don't get, is the scariest thing. I think about death so much. The reality of it. It changes how you think about everything. Fear, and the coward it grabs hold of, is idiotic. Sometimes I feel a bit incapacitated if I think of death too much in one sitting.

5/7/26

I saw someone sullen yet in possession of an epic mustache. How can you be forlorn with such a glorious facial hair situation? The thought I can't stop having that I am convinced would make me permanently happy would be if I woke up one day and I was a gibbon.

 

I love friends.

 

My next obsession in ceramics is experimenting with wax inlay. Once it's been bisque fired, you dip it in the first glaze. Then wax it up. Wait a day. Then carve it to your heart's desire and dip it again in a different glaze. You can just keep doing this. My first cup using mishima came out of the glaze fire recently and it popped so much. It got me excited to start trying new methods.