Oatmeal, Emo, and partnership. With a dash of Photoshop.

Shockingly accurate.

From here.

I have to write a five-minute presentation on the Louvre for French class. Two minutes in French. Which would be fine, except we don’t know past tense yet. So I’m ignoring it for the moment and working on a painting, which means spend ten minutes doing something and scrubbing off five minutes worth. Fortunately, I came up with the perfect color/density/ splatterability for the speckles on the pear in the painting. The pear is nearly perfectly ripe, so I have to finish at least that part soon. Must not eat subjects.

But enough of that nonsense. I don’t know what they’ve got going on, but the gulls have invaded the open place across the parking lot from the dorm. I’m waking up to that raucous noise, and that feeling of being in a different life. I wish I could explain it better. Being at home someplace I’ve never been before is some of it, although I’ve lived next to the Lake for a few years now. Feeling like I’m waking up on an island, or a boat off-shore, maybe. Maybe it’s just feeling more awake, when I hear the gulls. The world is talking back. The air is alive.

Maybe I am at home, finally. That’s an odd thought.