We bought two fish over the weekend. I was really touched when Ryan suggested we get some even though I know he thinks they are utterly pointless pets. Anyway, we went to Hope's Closet to drop off some stuff [we cleaned out the closet! finally!] and I found a perfect fishbowl for $3. Then we went across the street to Walmart to pick out the new inhabitants.
We named them Forrest and Jenny, and they lived happily together for about 12 hours before Jenny decided it was time to go. She went belly up and I was afraid that Forrest would go, too, but he's still well and kicking. If only they had produced intelligent offspring with a chili-bowl haircut and a cute scratchy voice. Then I'd feel better about it.
I gave Jenny a burial worthy of a $2.14 fish. I went home on my lunch break and dumped out almost all of the water, including her, into the grass at the base of our patio fence. Forrest looked on. I filled his bowl back up with water that we started distilling yesterday, making sure to let it make plenty of bubbles so he'd have lots of air. I'm kind of sad I ever wanted fish. What a ridiculous pet )c:
While Ryan was finishing up my Mac (which now works, in case you didn't know) (!!!happy!!!), I made a collage to hang over our couch. Some people will probably think it's artsy, because it certainly looks that way. But I guess only the artist can know if it's good or not. I've never done a collage before, so I don't really consider it a work of art, just a way to display all of the things we can't throw away but would hide in a box for years and years. I don't know if there are rules for what makes a good collage. We joked that one day we probably will throw it away. For now, I like it.
So I've been reading this book that Wes got me for Christmas. It's interesting so far. I'm kind of afraid it's going to get scary, but it's not there yet so naturally I read a little more and a little more. It brought up one thing that I had never heard of or thought about before. People define art in different ways, but in the book, the main famous artist-guy says that what makes a painting good is if it resonates with familiarity, but also stirs up mystery. It makes sense - if you were just going to paint something exactly the way it looks [if you could... I guess that's a challenge in itself for all of us] then you might as well take a picture. But when you paint something, you have the freedom to make some things vague or add in your own perspective, etc. It explains why people [including myself] always try to read between the lines when it comes to art. They want to learn something they didn't know.
But then there are other reasons for art completely... such as just being enjoyable to look at (c: