My legs are literally covered in gross looking bruises. Not the cool kinds where someone is like "Hey look at that hardcore chick and her awesome leg bruises. She must be super awesome.". It's more like "Ew, she should cover up those legs, yo." My pale skin is no match for purple, yellow and red markings. Especially the ones with the scratches imbedded in them. What was I doing, you ask? Boyfriend and I
rode at Nox on Friday. I did great for awhile (minus my triumphant falls off the bike), launching myself down hills and pedaling my tush off on the uphills... but I'm pretty sure I was crying around 2.5 miles. Thank goodness for hot showers and bottles of wine. They're like security blankets for adults.
Saturday we all (and by we, I mean 10 adults and 5 chillins) went on a
death march 10 mile bike ride through Lehigh Gorge State Park. I was super surprised when I realized where we were: The same exact place we went whitewater rafting earlier in the summer! (Dang, I sound pretty bad ass in this post. Did I mention I got two nosebleeds this weekend too? BADASSSSSS.) It was pretty chilly in the shade that day, a far cry from the sweltering temperature there in the summer. Here in Philadelphia the leaves are just starting to fall to the ground. The colors radiant and bold. Up in the Poconos, most of the leaves were gone: Already dead on the ground. The only colors left were in the rhododendron forests and coniferous trees.
Sunday we went on two
death marches hikes, which probably all totaled about 8 miles.Yes, I am physically whooped from the weekend. So why this long post that has nothing to do with art? I don't know. I felt like writing, and this is all I got for now. Here's a picture of some leaves from a plant on my desk. Tonight I'll be working on more quilting so I'll have more to post tomorrow about art and life and ... art. My mind is still like mush from so much physical exertion. Let's never speak of this again.
Plus, a small animation coming called Brownies or Death.