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| Oil Paint on canvas. 22"x28" Unfinished |
Now that I'm living on the opposite side of the country from my parents, the amount of freedom in my life has increased exponentially. And while sometimes I still wish I had the fear of mom-anger to stop me from all those waist-line killing midnight snack runs, and those poor decisions to stay up watching Pretty Little Liars until 5 am on school nights, the freedom has so far been, on the whole, a much needed, invigorating breath of fresh air. One of the best parts of said freedom has got to be the freedom to make money and spend it on anything I like.
But my major expense thus far has actually just been birthday presents for my family (followed closely by ridiculous amounts of goldfish crackers), as this is the first time that I've really been able to get them whatever I want. But now that I have this power, I feel the need to get the "perfect" gift; the one that will bring that one look on their faces', the look that means utter happiness. And so, about a week or so before each family member's birthday, I can be found madly shopping away on the computer with bloodshot eyes at 2am, all homework (gladly) forgotten. For my dad's birthday, I got him a $300 giant metal wall art piece (worth, in my mind, 10 hours of tutoring, or 25 hours worth of lab work). It was perfect and completely worth it, I was sure-- a completely personalized gift. I had even consulted my younger brother, who gave me sage advice via email: "you're a nooobz". For my mother, I got my father to pick up a cockatiel from a local place, convinced that my mom needed an extra companion in the house now that she was home alone nearly every day. It was perfect, it was all supposed to be perfect--the gifts would show that I still cared for them, still remembered them, and most of all, knew them.
But inevitably, things didn't turn out so perfectly. My dad, though he liked and appreciated this piece of wall art, would have preferred that piece of wall art; my mom disliked the idea of me "wasting" so much money; the bird was not completely tamed and who was going to take care of it anyways? not my mom, who'd rather have me back to take care of (really mom? are you sure about that?)
The perfect gift is just too damn elusive.
But at least this round of birthdays is almost over (my brother's is coming up next, but as he's still a teenager, I'm not stressing quite so much over his gift).
So for now, I'm working on "part 2" of my mom's birthday gift (which might end up coinciding with mother's day) to make up for the disappointment of the bird. I think that a painting of me (when I was little, cuter, and more loveable) and her should be perfect.
Its still unfinished, but what do you think?
*and again, sorry for the bad quality image...my camera died and I'm going to need to invest in a new camera since photobooth is just not cutting it...
