Before The First String Breaks, I Guess

I woke up dead tired at around 6:45 PM.

I thought about going back to sleep, forever, or hopefully waking up refreshed right before it was time to go out and busk on this Friday night. My body must be detoxifying from the pancake and butter binge, I thought. I had eaten a whole box of instant potatoes with butter, salt, pepper and a can of green beans stirred in, and had stayed up into the morning reading the first half of the John Grisham novel, "Calico Joe."

I like how Grisham will, at times, say "it was a warm summer night," as the only description, trusting the reader to fill in the details, while in other spots, he will take a whole page to describe something like the split second when Calico Joe got hit in (the corner of his right) eye by a fastball.

At some point, I did the drawing above.

It has the tell-tale signs of having been altered using one of the "filters" that the GIMP image editing software comes with.

There is a girl I see almost every day at the Uxi Duxi, who is an artist and was showing Nathaniel, the manager who didn't hire me, some of her work on her phone.
At one point she scoffed at "so called" artists who..."all they do is (blah blah blah)...and then run it through some Photoshop filter and call it art..." Big deal; anyone can do that.

Well, sure, the filters are simulations of some of the physical acts that real artist might do, such as using their brush to swirl a dab of yellow paint, around a stretch of blue paint, so that it will blend in such a way to imply a starry starry night.

But, the artist has an idea of what he is trying to achieve beforehand...he isn't just pleasantly surprised by the creation of the stars, leading him to say: "Wow, how did I do that?!?"

After experimenting with the settings of the filters, the artist can then imagine her desired effect before applying them. If she concludes: "Yes, that was what I was aiming for," then, there is nothing wrong with using filters, girl whom I see almost every day at the Uxi Duxi.

They are legit.

Legit, legit, legit!!!

I have been very irresponsible in providing for my busking career, lately.

I ordered some guitar strings which would have been here by now, had I merely gotten on the phone a couple days ago and called the MusiciansFriend.com people, and asked them to apply the "points" that I have accrued towards my purchase.
I had no money on the American Express card that is linked to my account with them, but had about 16 dollars available to me in "Backstage Pass" bonus points.
When I clicked upon "complete order," I thought I would be given a chance to choose a payment method. I wasn't, but rather was told that my order had been received and would be billed to the credit card with nothing on it.
I knew that I had to just call them first thing in the morning, and "manually" apply the points to the purchase.

Instead, I had been up all morning doing something until noon, like running something through a filter and then calling it art, and then had forgotten about the call, fallen asleep, and then woken after MusiciansFried.com was closed for the day. Two days in a row, I had done that.

I somehow have it burned into my psyche that making a long distance call to St. Louis involves interacting with an operator and pumping a fistful of quarters into a payphone; or that the call has to be important. You called me all the way from New Orleans for that?!?

Or that MusiciansFriend.com is a warehouse full of robots loading guitar strings onto conveyor belts and my call will be put on hold and then redirected to another robot, and then my number will be given to telemarketers who will subsequently harass me at all hours of the day or night.

It is a Friday and Halloween is in the air, if not on the calendar. There seems to be a good amount of traffic on the roads, and a lot of Halloween parties taking place on decorated porches, both of which boding well for a busy night in the French Quarter.

I would really appreciate a set of fresh strings on my guitar at a time such as this. But; the procrastination bug has bitten me again.

It's a warm summer night.

If I didn't spend money on cigarettes, weed, kratom or coffee, I suppose I could just sit at home and finish the Grisham novel, but I'll "have to" go out and busk, while the Buddha frowns over my being driven by attachments to these things, and interested in the results produced by my expression of love and music.

I will be seeing how long I can play and how much I can make before the first string breaks, I guess.