Between rehearsing for the dessert theater show (which is actually a show within a show where I play an upstart professional actor) and listening to Steve Martin’s autobiography, I’ve got myself feeling all artsy.

Steve, it turns out, was a genuine 60’s hippy and growing up around L.A. he was acquainted with all sorts of famous musicians, writers, and artists. When he started name dropping, I didn’t know most of the names, so I googled them the other day and spent a good hour or so looking through paintings and photography by that era’s movers and shakers.

I’ve always wanted to be an artist, but I have this affinity for eating and paying my rent that prevents me from living that lifestyle. When we lived in Colorado, I took hundreds of photographs (No, not pictures. Photographs.) most of which are really good. But since moving back to Texas, I find that there are painfully few chances to cast a lense on something worth looking at. Not to say there’s not art here. It’s just a lot harder to find and I’m way to busy to find it.

The digital age makes it seem illogical to put any effort into shooting with my old 35mm Canon Rebel. But the $600+ price tag on a comparable digital Rebel not justifiable. Maybe if I still lived in the mountains.

*deep sigh*

Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to keep the frustrated artist inside of me hidden away, festering.