Another neglected robot, Dupont Circle.
Haloween ... only the robots know it's for kids.
I am making a six-foot sculpture in the Tuesday morning intermediate metal sculpture class. The frame looked so nice I wanted to take pictures of it, looks even better with someone in it.
Paul Kennedy is a cigar smoker. A coffee drinker. A picture taker.
Cassie, Kevin, Ana, and our instructor Kurt Mutchler wait for a train at Farragut North Station. Thursday morning our entire class went out to American University to see a photographer from the Magnum Agency speak about his work. Three slide trays into the presentation (and a short nap later) we all left. Thank Goodness.
One of the most interesting days I've had in a long time started at 5am this morning. You have to wake up pretty early in the morning to follow the newest U.S. citizens. Much of the day is spent in a large waiting room. But the waiting seems worth it, even to someone who was born into U.S. citizenship.
Art students hang out in their own groups. We are sometimes segregated by the mediums we choose to work with. But when there is alcohol to be comsumed at Brandon and Mike's these groups come together. Some are well put together performance artists, others are small mobs of sloppy drunks. (Most are a good mixture of both.)
Yesterday Maris turned a year older. Good times were had by all. The cups runithed over. This morning I felt like I had been runithed over.
Any given night on 13th St the girls are out working.
I saw one of the most vicious fights today. Surprisingly it was two girls. They were Thai Boxing at Yamasaki Academy in Rockville, Md. My friend Rosie catches her breath in the corner while the instructors tend to her opponents's bloody nose.
