Quarantine: a month or something.

This painting is called “I Told You Guys I Could Paint an Owl.” I would like to thank the barn owl from Wikipedia who is my muse.

This is my second “crisis painting” and I feel like it’s good to know I could be a shitty painter if ever I had the desire. All I’d need to do is paint a big, giant crucifix behind it and be a “Christian painter” and I’m sure I could make literally hundreds of dollars a year.

Here’s my first shitty painting.

Isn’t it great? No, but it isn’t embarrassing and I had a nice time so get off my back, invisible voice in my head. Maybe I’ll add a Christian owl to it.

I’ve been cooking up a storm, and I swear to my owl painting that I will eat out 6 times a week once this is over. I “don’t want to kill anyone” but not leaving your own house makes you an alcoholic farmer from the 1800s surprisingly fast. I used to be all impressed that Thomas Jefferson could speak French and read Greek and Latin and could draw his own house but what the fuck else did he have going on? There’s nothing to do but stare at your phone and write long sentences. I’ve already thought of 8 kinds of bikes.

Time to watch TV and I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Muses of TV.

In other news: I miss my mom incredibly. And my dad.