my boss texted me today saying that my 'cher guevara' piece sold. i think i priced it at fifteen dollars, which means i'll get about ten. i wasn't expecting that one to sell. i had more hope for 'fuck you, shut up' but so it goes. the ceiling at the art asylum came down. i guess there must have been some heavy rain, but, to be fair, the ceiling has always had problems, so maybe it just finally gave out

my mother called maybe a week ago. i called back a few days later. my grandfather has lymphoma. i'm not particularly moved, sort of apathetic. i've been quarreling with that sentiment this week. i feel like i should be more sad, seeing as i do have memories of visiting him and my grandmother. playing in their backyard. picking some fruits off a tree. catching bugs in the small greenhouse that was attached to the backdoor. falling off their treadmill because i moved the speed setting too high. but, even with those vivid pictures, i just can't seem to feel bad. it makes me think about the very real possibility of me developing cancer in the future. it's a hereditary thing, i think. or is at least influenced by it. 'it' being genes. i have more thoughts about this, but i don't think i can form them right now... i'm just.. gonna end this now and hopefully revisit the topic on a later post