My sister’s rose tattoo is the top. 
I took a picture of the original sketch for it and recreated it by tracing every line and adding more in Illustrator. The result was the bottom left.

I think it would be rad to make stencils or something out of it, which would end up looking like the bottom right. 

Harding’s has a new delivery guy for our Keyco orders. 

Today, he dropped off our stuff and asked for directions to one of the high schools. I gave him my best guess, and he left. A little while later, he came back, saying he thought he dropped off something he wasn’t supposed to. He hadn’t. He then went outside, came around to my window, and asked for my number. 

But I didn’t give it to him. I guess I’m holding out for someone else. 
Life is weird.  

Today was rad.

One of my best friends, Katie, is flying out to Rome tonight, where she will study abroad for the next month and a half. She’s been dreaming about this for years. It’s incredible that now her dream is coming true.

Off to pick up her sister (my future wife) from school, and then the two of us are taking Katie to Philly. Good things.

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bareskine:

I present to you progression: part one.

I’m very proud to be releasing this today. It’s been, shall I say, a long work in progress, but it was worth all the effort.

If you’re interested in picking up a copy, go here.
There are only 30 for sale currently, so don’t wait! I did some re-calculating, and I’ve decided to sell them for $2 instead. The goal isn’t to make money off of these—I work two jobs for that. I just wanted to make something to help me better understand the thoughts in my head. To share them, hoping you could get something out of it too. 

3D Design final. I passed it off as being a concept of soft vs rough contrast or something of the like, but it was really more of a visual play off the expression “the grass is greener on the other side.” Either way, my professor complimented my artistic developmental process as a whole and called me a good designer. Success.

There’s been a swift change in me as of late. I didn’t quite notice it at first, but now I see it every day.

I think it all started about a week and a half ago. Deadline drawing near, I raced to get my portfolio together for review. I’ve wanted to go to the University of the Arts in Philadelphia since roughly November. Back then, I was a miserable kid fighting the cold Syracuse weather and even colder people around me. I knew I had to leave. After extensive research and a campus visit, UArts felt right.

Last Thursday was ready to make or break me—or would I be doing the making and breaking? All I know is that it was the first time in a while that I refrained from numerous presses of the snooze button. I woke up and got straight to it. Six hours until my review, my portfolio was complete.
I’ve never been one to give myself any real credit for the things that I’ve done or the abilities I have. I think that’s why I was surprised when the feeling hit. Flipping through the pages, I was proud of my work. I saw fragments of myself, pieces of my past, and the effort I put into everything reflected back at me.
At two o’clock, I sat in the room with my admissions counselor, recounting the stories behind each submission. After explaining the last piece, progression part three, she replied with, “I like the way you think.”
She meant it. My acceptance letter arrived four days later.

I went to three shows between that night and the following Friday. In that eight day time span, I watched a few bands for the hundredth time, ones to whom I’ve willingly given away small pieces of my heart over and over. I’d let the pieces escape and float away as I’d open my mouth to yell those band’s own words back at them. Words I may never forget. 
I watched others that I’d never heard more of than simply their name. Still, I stood in awe, soaking up every second of their performances. Something about each one caught my attention. Something I recognized immediately.
Somewhere along the way, the lines between those two blurred. Though my relationship to each was originally very different, the bands I’ve loved and the bands that I didn’t even know share something very important to me: passion. I witnessed more of that outstanding quality in the past week and a half than I have in months.

I keep thinking about those musicians and the lives they lead. For most, this is their full time job, how they make ends meet, put food on the table and all that. I think about how people like me from all over the world are so affected by it. Those of us who spend our paychecks on gas and concert tickets, just to take in the emotion for a few hours. And we’re grateful for the opportunity.
It’s different than being an accountant or a doctor. While those jobs also provide necessary services that most of us couldn’t perform alone, the efforts are generally shrugged off with a half-hearted thanks and a prayer it’ll be a long ass time before we have to go back.

I’ve been lost. I’ve been running. I’ve been sinking. The days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, and I’ve lost track of the actual length of time. Until recently, I couldn’t recall when I was able to get out of bed willingly on a consistent basis. The weight on my shoulders kept convincing me it would be better never to leave the sheets. But somewhere between my portfolio review, the GK tour, my acceptance letter, the free Transit show, and the North American Wildlife tour, I reached the surface. I ran back. I am found. 

I feel alive again. 

I get out of bed every day. I do the shit I don’t care about, because I know it serves a better purpose. I make it to work generally on time, and I find reasons to smile when I’m there, even if I hate working jobs that are meaningless to me. I’m finding the energy to use my spare time to work on the things that really do matter to me. I’m making progress.

I am eternally grateful for music, for those who dedicate their time, their lives, their hearts, souls, and passion to creating it so that the rest of us find something to hold on to when it seems better to sink, to run, to stay lost. 
One day, I hope to be in a situation where the feeling I found this week finds me on a nightly basis. Until then, I’ll cling to the bit of it that remains.

I hope you have something to cling to. 

Looking over my ever-growing CD, vinyl, and merch collection, it’s becoming more and more clear why I always feel broke.

I’ll probably never change.

Things are really good this week.

• I was accepted to the school I want to go to in the fall.
• I’ve made significant progress on bareskine.
• My street sign job is ending right in time for Harding’s to open.
• I saw Transit for free tonight.
• I’m seeing La Dispute and Balance & Composure tomorrow.
• I’m training to bartend on Saturday.
• Becky and I are going to the Electric City tattoo convention Sunday.

bareskine:

…will be printed and available for sale Friday, May 4th.

I guess you could say I’m making progress?

Go follow my other blog.
My first zine is coming at ya in less than two weeks! 

I had a cookie in my mouth, and Becky almost pulled a Lady and the Tramp on me.
When’s the wedding again?

I guess my admissions counselor wasn’t lying when she said, “I like the way you think.” (Taken with instagram)