I am now slowly lifting a machine gun in your direction and words are coming out of the muzzle as I pull the trigger...I am very introverted, but I try to bust out of my shell when I can.  I am in college working on my art education degree.  I am a twenty-four year old two year old buddhist.  Hurting for money in Michigan and waiting for better weather both figurative and literal.  Sorry ladies, I'm taken by a beautiful, and intelligent history major.  I know too many artists to actually date one.  The different masks I wear include, hippy, beatnik, emo, metrosexual.  I try to deviate from the last two, but hell we artists all use the same excuse in our title.  Bring me more wine and cheese, and please someone get me a better job than cashier.  I am very very kind, and very very sensitive, and I have no idea how to play the guitar.  My advice to any artist would be to study the golden mean, and damn it, use more values that thing looks flat, but at the same time break the rules, not to mention stay pure, don't let college acedemia cramp your style...the clip now falls out of the wordy machine gun, and turns to flowers.  Peace!