***

Elated, deflated, whatever.

Mark Kaplan's work is nearly all on exibit in the Opera Gallery's branch in Ngee Ann City. God, I love him. My favourite artist ever. The Ulitmate.
His work has a way of drawing me into them, getting me lost into a delirious, messy, chaotic dimension; There's an atmosphere he evokes and and a special sort of emotion that he calls into being. Slender brush-strokes of deliberate, painted disorder, forming foliage and rustic architecture and -ah my favourite subject for any painting- thin legged tables and chairs, set up for alfresco dining. (Van Gogh's Cafe Terrace is one of my favourite paintings.)

Al Fresco dining is one of the pleasures in life. Just like quasi-isolation in city apartments, Friday martinis and sunday morning sex. Alex Krajewski expresses the former as well as it can possibly be. 10 a.m. after a jog; cold mango juice, scrambled eggs and banana nut muffins, served without the claustrophobia.

***
Met Mr. Grant today for tea -because we didn't feel like eating anything-. He was about to start gymming but decided to catch up with me instead.
I finally managed to ask him if he'd like to shoot with me (Ley suggested it) I was fussing over how in the world I could possibly put up such a strange request ever since it was suggested, and I eventually did it the way I end up doing most things. By just doing it. It was no big deal. He said I could ask anything of him anytime. Ley's asked me to bring him round to the studio sometime soon; I don't know how Mr. G will be recieved. He's got a great body but only an allright face. It's pleasant to me, and that's all that matters between the sheets and on the streets (in case I meet anyone I know). But it definitely beats the Burmese model Ley suggested. He looked like a monkey. And believe it or not, I no longer find it much fun being naked with men I don't know. Unless they weild a huge Nikon SLR and keep their hands on their equiptment.
He agreed to it anyway.
He also agreed to go to Hanoi with me a couple of weekends from now, if he could afford the time.
That would be fun, and it might just be what I need - and maybe what he does too(?)- to sort out this whole emotional mess I've (we've?) made. Perhaps I'm loosing out on this game for his affection, but I know I've only got myself to blame.

I suppose it's only fair that he's to see someone else while I see someone else, but that really doesn't stop me from being jealous.
Especially not when he dares fuss over her when he's out with me. Sure, I suppose we're better of as friends, and that's fine, but I'm still female, and I still want you. I guess I'm flattered that he tells me his deepest darkest, silliest emotions (I didn't know people his age still fussed over the absence of one text message) but it's not easy to just pretend it doesn't matter that you're affected because You got her* mad at you, and you managed to get mad in return -some silly thing over not having enough cash to go to Athens for the Olympics; apparently she was trying to dictate how he was to spend his money. But I didn't think it was her fault, but it's noneofmydamnbusiness. It's upsetting at any rate.

I suppose he knew I was jealous when he mentioned Miss. Athens; and perhaps for want of hinting to me subtly that, hey, I was seeing someone else too, he had to ask about Mr. Big. Well... what about him? I don't know how he feels about me, and I don't care to know. It's allright, he likes me, and I return the favour. It's comfortable, like baked potato and cheese, and that's all there is to it. *shrugs*

Well, whatever. I don't particulary want to care anymore.

Like, how is it possible to like so many people all at once?
The funny thing is, I don't feel all that passionate for either of them. They're great people to hang out with and do fun things with and appreciate and have appreciation in return, but that's it. Eh, it's been a long time since I felt passionate about any one person anyway.
But Mr G comes so close.

Well, my definition of long is not very long.
Is half a year a long time?
When you're as young as I am, anything is a long time.

*jealous*
I'm a firm advocate of how the fault is in ourselves and not in our stars, but well, there are certain times where there's nothing you can do about anything. You can make plans, but who the hell can plan how to feel?

I'll never be good at sorting out these things.
***

This elation;
Ship confined in purgatory.
Lost in a sea of blood.