Friday, February 6, 2015
I'm watching project runway with my mom and doing research about how to make crayon lipstick. When the episode ends, I go upstairs to the kitchen, and grab a jar and start some water boiling. I chop a crayon into small pieces, and put some oil into it. I plop the crayon pieces into it and put the jar into the boiling water. I stir it, and wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. Smoke starts to curl out of the jar. I pull it out of the water. i empty out the jar and put another crayon and some more oil in it. This one melts in about ten seconds. I pour the mixture into an empty contact case. I pick up the jar to clean it out, and the bottom of the jar falls off, slicing my middle finger deeply as it falls to the paper towel on the counter. Grr. I try to put on the lipstick after it cools for a while. My finger is bleeding through the bandaid. The lipstick is glorified lip balm that just happens to be green. I get out the tweezers, determined to get the splinter out from underneath my thumbnail. This is a time I agree with Jungian psychology. The wings of Icharus are burning.
Posted by Lydia Donato at 11:08 AM