How Gay Are You?

I received this test from our block yahoogroups which is meant to define how "gay" a person is. Since it works for both girls and guys, I took the test, turns out I'm 56 percent gay! ("You're very open minded between the sheets and just as balanced when out on the streets") Oh my tushie! :0

----------------

I have just finished a sketch last night and handed it to one of my friends to scan it for me so I can finally update my deviant art account. My work after much reflection is not the type which would make people stop in awe and praise, in fact they are ones which make people think "Okay, this is one bored person." It's stupid, when I think about it now, to say that I am no artist for there is no defined way to describe an artist. Having so many artistic genres open to be exploited and at times redefined, there has to be no concrete standard to limit what is art and what is not.

Sometimes when I think about it, everything - no matter how simple or unflattering to the eye is art. A bicycle is a work of art which proves to be equally functional. The design in which it is constructed cannot be primarily done without creative thought paired with rational engineering and thus in the fusion of the two separate schools of thought can one create one which is both purposeful as well as tasteful. A chair cannot be chaired unless designed to be - furnishings, etc. - art of interior designing. Heck, even war became an art because it has to be designed, although it tends to be quite calculative.

--------------------------

For the past few months, my idealism has taken the best of my thoughts. It has overpowered my rationality and cold heartedness that I lean primarily on futuristic dreams which are at the moment immaterial and out of grasp. Although I have begun with so many theories in how I would deal particular endeavors, it is quite unfortunate that I had to "eat my words" when faced with the exact situation. And thus my objective thought slowly dwindled and slept noisily in the attic of my brain. Until...

Doubts are very effective means to shake the cobwebs in one's head. My realism has begun to take its revenge against the deceitful idealism I have been living with for the previous months. My head is catering to a war between the two polar camps, and at the moment, could not find any satisfactory compromise. Although a very clever plan has already formed itself and in fact has begun to find its implementation, the idealism savagely screams its words until realism needs to give it the air it pleads. The revenge of realism is not at all as wild as idealism's for it is objective and calculated and "researched". Idealism is just a rush of the emotional river which jumps and bends and can never be constant. The war will soon end, I will make sure of that - but the victor still remains questionable for the time being.

----------------------

I wrote this short reflection earlier this year (April 22, 2005) when I was daydreaming how it would be like to accomplish a book and experience a real press conference where people could actually pretend to be interested in both the contents of your work, as well as the process in which one overcame.

" A story must imitate life; an interrelation between the objective mind and the subjective heart, all forged and bound together in the toolshed of the imagination."

"True life lends its hand to a story's creation and yet it is I, who must "make them my own", nurture each event and parent each character to lead me to its own conclusion. I am merely a voice they hear, but it is their actions that write the tale."