being home is a lot like making a documentary about penguins.
I see the behind-the-scenes tapes of people slogging through the snow. sixty below, they say. hundred mile-per-hour winds, they say. why, the others say. and then at the end it's nothing but big smiles and thumbs up and whatnot. why, the others still say. I think I get it. I don't know if I'd do it (that extreme), but I get it. learning. exploring. pushing the limits. spirit unbounding. that kind of stuff.
actually, that's not like being home at all. but I did just watch a penguin documentary.
being home, on the other hand, is a completely different kind of being. sunnier, for one thing. sharper, too. quieter, I guess. farther away from some things. I'm sunburned and my legs are scratched in several different places. I learned not to ride a mountain bike barefoot (it hurts). I tackled one dog and ran another one down. I made real food, and ate real food (although I can do without the latter. I think I've gone on not much for a while). I did this and that and the other thing and not much at all and a great deal. it was a good vacation, but I was right about not wanting to do it again without much else in sight. I'm looking forward to going back. not driving back, certainly, but going.
stay nimble.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Saturday, March 22, 2008
sitcommie
I have a new series in the works.
it's collegey. sitcommie. hopefully funny.
its working title is "blogosphere."
it breaks the fourth wall.
it should be fun.
very.
it's collegey. sitcommie. hopefully funny.
its working title is "blogosphere."
it breaks the fourth wall.
it should be fun.
very.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
pine wind
power and responsibility. what do I have? can I change someone's life just by being? can I change someone's lie? I wonder, sometimes. when the lifehinge comes, will you know it? will I know it? there are more than one. maybe three rights will make a square. three lefts make a square, a wrong, a right in their own right.
la flama niposa, la ombra dispare, la noce immortale, la voce murmure.
trees outside my windows.
at home, it's a beast of a cottonwood. spring-summer's best for that boy, when it's in full leaf and it sounds like a river rainstorm with every breeze. it's green, too, the real green that's sunlight through twenty feet of leaves. for some reason, for as long as I can remember, a horseshoe's hung on the lowest branch. it's rusty, brown-copper-redgold.
in flag, it's a pine. I suppose it's the "pine view" the complex is named for: if there wasn't one there already, by golly, then they'd make one. I seem to have many memories of its snow-coveredness. it's green, too, but sunlight goes right through needles. it's the green of darkness, the cottonwood at night, or in a real storm.
they're both nice, I guess, both trees. dichotomies at their most elementary (school), deciduous and coniferous. the cottonwood's budding again, and the pine's lost its snow. we'll be going into green comparison season soon.
...but if it comes to which I'd rather listen to, I choose the cottonwood. wind in a pine feels lonely.
la flama niposa, la ombra dispare, la noce immortale, la voce murmure.
trees outside my windows.
at home, it's a beast of a cottonwood. spring-summer's best for that boy, when it's in full leaf and it sounds like a river rainstorm with every breeze. it's green, too, the real green that's sunlight through twenty feet of leaves. for some reason, for as long as I can remember, a horseshoe's hung on the lowest branch. it's rusty, brown-copper-redgold.
in flag, it's a pine. I suppose it's the "pine view" the complex is named for: if there wasn't one there already, by golly, then they'd make one. I seem to have many memories of its snow-coveredness. it's green, too, but sunlight goes right through needles. it's the green of darkness, the cottonwood at night, or in a real storm.
they're both nice, I guess, both trees. dichotomies at their most elementary (school), deciduous and coniferous. the cottonwood's budding again, and the pine's lost its snow. we'll be going into green comparison season soon.
...but if it comes to which I'd rather listen to, I choose the cottonwood. wind in a pine feels lonely.
luck
(I take no credit)
[I]f they are right, and this instrument is good for nothing but to entertain, amuse and insulate, then the tube is flickering now and we will soon see that the whole struggle is lost. This instrument can teach, it can illuminate, yes, and it can even inspire. But it can do so only to the extent that humans are determined to use it to those ends. Otherwise it is merely wires and lights in a box.
And if there are any historians about fifty or one hundred years from now,
and there should be preserved the kinescopes of one week
of all three networks, they will there find recorded
in black and white, and in color evidence of decadence, escapism,
and insulation from the realities of the world in which we live.
We are currently wealthy, fat, comfortable, and complacent.
We have a built-in allergy to unpleasant or disturbing information.
Our mass media reflect this.
But unless we get up off our fat surpluses
and recognize that television in the main
is being used to distract, delude, amuse, and insulate us,
then television and those who finance it,
those who look at it and those who work at it,
may see a totally different picture
too late.
[I]f they are right, and this instrument is good for nothing but to entertain, amuse and insulate, then the tube is flickering now and we will soon see that the whole struggle is lost. This instrument can teach, it can illuminate, yes, and it can even inspire. But it can do so only to the extent that humans are determined to use it to those ends. Otherwise it is merely wires and lights in a box.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
two, party number
nanni had a friend (sixties) up with her mother (nineties!) today. they talked, ate, and played wii. that's more or less what I'm doing. man, I hope I'm as hip when I'm old.
I am receiving far more cell traffic than I normally do. to date, I have answered exactly one phone call thus far. I feel a bit bad. it may be the passive-aggressive thing: I don't like doing the phone thing, so I "forget" it. my unconscious may be more metaspy than I give it credit for.
I quite dislike discussing money, except if (can't say when, yet) large sums are being given to me. or if I were doing the giving, I suppose. either scenario involves what I don't have.
I'm staring at a sombrero on my brother's wall. it's bright green with a gold and white flower-thing. it's sparkly, and next to about eight soccer trophies. my brother is weird opposites incarnate.
sharing a room with him isn't that bad. so far, one of three things has happened every night: he goes to bed early and I late, I go to bed early and he late, or he falls asleep on the couch. he'll make an excellent middle-aged husband, except that he doesn't like beer. strange to think of him being eighteen. strange. *shudder*-strange.
tick. tick. tick. there's a real clock on the wall, blue rimmed, with easy-to-see, little kid numbers. it's annoying, sometimes, in the very late of the night when I'm worrying over what to do next semester, or next week. other peoples' problems calm me. is that so very strange?
why do friends come to me for relationship advice? two strikes: haven't had a good, lasting one, and the ones I write about are fucked-up by default. what more motive can I read in a text message that says "you're a cool, nice girl"? no more than has been given, though I hold that my text-at-gunpoint idea is a good one, if not entirely practical. I would still like someone to tell me, though, not how to have a 'ship, but rather "wha!bam, here's
I thought better of it. I'd rather not have anyone tell me. I'd rather do it for myself. this implies some doing. effort. effort? effort. it also implies speaking to party number two ever again. granny mabel's underknickers, but that may be difficult!
lunch with jenny and sarah on the morrow. I'll need a strong constitution to counter what will no doubt be a meal of unintentional(?) barb-slinging. shiny shiny happy happy.
I am receiving far more cell traffic than I normally do. to date, I have answered exactly one phone call thus far. I feel a bit bad. it may be the passive-aggressive thing: I don't like doing the phone thing, so I "forget" it. my unconscious may be more metaspy than I give it credit for.
I quite dislike discussing money, except if (can't say when, yet) large sums are being given to me. or if I were doing the giving, I suppose. either scenario involves what I don't have.
I'm staring at a sombrero on my brother's wall. it's bright green with a gold and white flower-thing. it's sparkly, and next to about eight soccer trophies. my brother is weird opposites incarnate.
sharing a room with him isn't that bad. so far, one of three things has happened every night: he goes to bed early and I late, I go to bed early and he late, or he falls asleep on the couch. he'll make an excellent middle-aged husband, except that he doesn't like beer. strange to think of him being eighteen. strange. *shudder*-strange.
tick. tick. tick. there's a real clock on the wall, blue rimmed, with easy-to-see, little kid numbers. it's annoying, sometimes, in the very late of the night when I'm worrying over what to do next semester, or next week. other peoples' problems calm me. is that so very strange?
why do friends come to me for relationship advice? two strikes: haven't had a good, lasting one, and the ones I write about are fucked-up by default. what more motive can I read in a text message that says "you're a cool, nice girl"? no more than has been given, though I hold that my text-at-gunpoint idea is a good one, if not entirely practical. I would still like someone to tell me, though, not how to have a 'ship, but rather "wha!bam, here's
I thought better of it. I'd rather not have anyone tell me. I'd rather do it for myself. this implies some doing. effort. effort? effort. it also implies speaking to party number two ever again. granny mabel's underknickers, but that may be difficult!
lunch with jenny and sarah on the morrow. I'll need a strong constitution to counter what will no doubt be a meal of unintentional(?) barb-slinging. shiny shiny happy happy.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
wait faster
I've a bookmark that informs me that "a fine beginning is a beautiful thing." it must be true. it's chinese.
it's true. been trying for more than a week to restart the novella. figured it out last night, wrote it today. tried several other ways to start it. didn't work. died. now it's alive.
I really wasn't aware that gandhi had such a distended forehead. a political cartoon tells me it's so. what am I but a repository and reassociative mirror of media images?
really. thank goddess I found a way back into this story. I've been so dead.
my aesthetic statement for poetry says that if I don't write, bad things happen. equal parts funny haha and truth. I remind myself here that it. is. true. don't let it happen to you.
I feel like a prat for having read the "people" section of the newspaper today. I wouldn't admit to it. here's my secret. no, really, that's it.
I act differently if I'm on my porch. if it's sunny. if it's warm. if I'd just had lunch. if I can't/won't/haven't yet found a way back in. point case? today. wrote an email to an individual [man-boy-20] I've known several months saying that I liked him. true? not really. but see, but see, but see! I knew he'd write back. and that I'd get something good out of it. I did like him. before. before. melyssa asked me if I would be willing to wait for minus-tiful, and I affirmed. I think I would be. am? for now. boring, though, it's boring. and I do like him. danger? that I do something just to un-bore it. I'd knock myself cold with the frying pan of sense if given a chance. change.
it's still pm. an hour away from am. I'm tired. I've done things today. either home is soporific, or I hadn't been doing much at school. likely a mix of both. remedy. working on it. choosing helps.
it's true. been trying for more than a week to restart the novella. figured it out last night, wrote it today. tried several other ways to start it. didn't work. died. now it's alive.
I really wasn't aware that gandhi had such a distended forehead. a political cartoon tells me it's so. what am I but a repository and reassociative mirror of media images?
really. thank goddess I found a way back into this story. I've been so dead.
my aesthetic statement for poetry says that if I don't write, bad things happen. equal parts funny haha and truth. I remind myself here that it. is. true. don't let it happen to you.
I feel like a prat for having read the "people" section of the newspaper today. I wouldn't admit to it. here's my secret. no, really, that's it.
I act differently if I'm on my porch. if it's sunny. if it's warm. if I'd just had lunch. if I can't/won't/haven't yet found a way back in. point case? today. wrote an email to an individual [man-boy-20] I've known several months saying that I liked him. true? not really. but see, but see, but see! I knew he'd write back. and that I'd get something good out of it. I did like him. before. before. melyssa asked me if I would be willing to wait for minus-tiful, and I affirmed. I think I would be. am? for now. boring, though, it's boring. and I do like him. danger? that I do something just to un-bore it. I'd knock myself cold with the frying pan of sense if given a chance. change.
it's still pm. an hour away from am. I'm tired. I've done things today. either home is soporific, or I hadn't been doing much at school. likely a mix of both. remedy. working on it. choosing helps.
Monday, March 17, 2008
swiss and cheese
I think I could act. I'm going to try again, anyway. indie is not a word I like. what's the alternative? no studio's going to pay for my project. my indie film. my indie short film. it's about playing. my indie short film about playing. playing. how many connotations does that have?
I'd love to study the psychology of fear. evolution of emotion. a biology class in speculative/alternative evolution. can I create my own schedule?
what? are you going to fix me?
my cat just licked my elbow.
I'd like to hear what I'd like to hear, sometimes. making a choice feels better than a forcing. a coercion. even if it's the wrong one. an addition to the antioch paradox? I chose it. I chose that path. now, here before me, I have a choice of walks. I have the power to end nau here. I choose not to. I choose not to! I choose not to run. could I get away? is that the question?
I'm a lead? a leader?
I choked my brother until he turned purplish for calling me a homo two days ago. I was upset I couldn't do more. I was annoyed I couldn't defend myself. that I didn't drop into the right stance. that I dropped the pencil first [in another situation].
in a way, I'm glad it's cold again. I'm justified in wearing pants. I'd really rather no one see what I did. I'd like an answer for why I did it. if I was a girl, I think I'd shave my head. guys with shaved heads are militaristic neo-nazis. girls with shaved heads are rebellious, deviant, sexy. double standards.
I mine myself for things to write about. problem? this romantic situation is stalled. it's boring. I need something to happen. problem? fucking things up is interesting for the not-me me, but for me it's not so good. maybe it's a good thing I fall in love easily. maybe it's a good thing few can recognize it. ice is my element. no water, no air, no fire, no earth. or all? ice. ice and shadow. I pick those, from the realm of video game elements.
what impact did switzerland ever have in the war?
I'd love to study the psychology of fear. evolution of emotion. a biology class in speculative/alternative evolution. can I create my own schedule?
what? are you going to fix me?
my cat just licked my elbow.
I'd like to hear what I'd like to hear, sometimes. making a choice feels better than a forcing. a coercion. even if it's the wrong one. an addition to the antioch paradox? I chose it. I chose that path. now, here before me, I have a choice of walks. I have the power to end nau here. I choose not to. I choose not to! I choose not to run. could I get away? is that the question?
I'm a lead? a leader?
I choked my brother until he turned purplish for calling me a homo two days ago. I was upset I couldn't do more. I was annoyed I couldn't defend myself. that I didn't drop into the right stance. that I dropped the pencil first [in another situation].
in a way, I'm glad it's cold again. I'm justified in wearing pants. I'd really rather no one see what I did. I'd like an answer for why I did it. if I was a girl, I think I'd shave my head. guys with shaved heads are militaristic neo-nazis. girls with shaved heads are rebellious, deviant, sexy. double standards.
I mine myself for things to write about. problem? this romantic situation is stalled. it's boring. I need something to happen. problem? fucking things up is interesting for the not-me me, but for me it's not so good. maybe it's a good thing I fall in love easily. maybe it's a good thing few can recognize it. ice is my element. no water, no air, no fire, no earth. or all? ice. ice and shadow. I pick those, from the realm of video game elements.
what impact did switzerland ever have in the war?
Saturday, March 15, 2008
negative displacement
I've tried before to think of things that a truly polarized.
white?
black?
no gray?
I think I've found it: statics and dynamics. either life is moving along or it isn't. I suppose it could be argued that statics don't even exist, as there's always forward momentum. my point is this: you can grab the wheel, or you can dig your nails into the bumper. yeah, yeah, I know, the steering wheel's at the front, the bumper's at the back, but whoever said I knew how to analogize?
this sounded smart in my head.
being home gives me a different perspective. I've remembranced at great length about antioch and its variegaties, especially how it changed me (and I it? I keep hoping). my main complaint about nau has been, continuously, how I'm static there. how I'm just waiting. how I'm hanging on as the car races along. how my nau theme song is "move along."
not anymore.
I'd be pressed to pin down exactly when things shifted, but they may've been doing it for a while. either way, I'm not the depressed kid who drove home every weekend a year ago. nor am I just down and jaded off antioch anymore. I've grown to like what I'm doing at nau, as well as who I am, who I know, and where things are going.
being home, then. I don't want to be here for extended periods of time. if I do summer school and graduate, then what? what do I do? go home again? no, no, I can't do that. what do I want to do? I think I've come to wanting to stay for next fall. oh, yes, there are reasons. in a nutshell, though, I don't want to displace again, and I have control this time. for the first time?
(would I have stayed at antioch if I could've made the counter-decision in december? signs point to yes.)
don't assumed I'm making this decision based solely on people. I know lauren will be gone in england, and dana-alex will be off somewhere. kat will have her grant (I firmly believe this). aly will be there. kyle, I hope? kristin-sunny will have moved back to the state. jessica will be at nau, and molly/jenny/sarah/kristin will still be around. there are no guarantees of anything long-term, as relationships go, but back in prescott? an ice cube is likelier to survive on phoenician july sidewalk. even if were to go to phoenix, and perhaps live with nanni or stay with kristin-sunny, I have no experience with that kind of thing. the last floor is that I like school, and I'd like to still be in a place where I can get my writing worked on and still learn things and expand myself to write things like how weather's a coming-of-age symbol in "the gryphon" or about the emergence stories of the diné. I guess I don't have huge problems with self-discipline - writer - but I like learning. I like learning! and, since I can't go to grad school for another year, I'd rather keep learning and stay in school than go out and try and wait tables while living my parents. godawful. godawful.
I plan to do a family-chronicling journal in a bit.
white?
black?
no gray?
I think I've found it: statics and dynamics. either life is moving along or it isn't. I suppose it could be argued that statics don't even exist, as there's always forward momentum. my point is this: you can grab the wheel, or you can dig your nails into the bumper. yeah, yeah, I know, the steering wheel's at the front, the bumper's at the back, but whoever said I knew how to analogize?
this sounded smart in my head.
being home gives me a different perspective. I've remembranced at great length about antioch and its variegaties, especially how it changed me (and I it? I keep hoping). my main complaint about nau has been, continuously, how I'm static there. how I'm just waiting. how I'm hanging on as the car races along. how my nau theme song is "move along."
not anymore.
I'd be pressed to pin down exactly when things shifted, but they may've been doing it for a while. either way, I'm not the depressed kid who drove home every weekend a year ago. nor am I just down and jaded off antioch anymore. I've grown to like what I'm doing at nau, as well as who I am, who I know, and where things are going.
being home, then. I don't want to be here for extended periods of time. if I do summer school and graduate, then what? what do I do? go home again? no, no, I can't do that. what do I want to do? I think I've come to wanting to stay for next fall. oh, yes, there are reasons. in a nutshell, though, I don't want to displace again, and I have control this time. for the first time?
(would I have stayed at antioch if I could've made the counter-decision in december? signs point to yes.)
don't assumed I'm making this decision based solely on people. I know lauren will be gone in england, and dana-alex will be off somewhere. kat will have her grant (I firmly believe this). aly will be there. kyle, I hope? kristin-sunny will have moved back to the state. jessica will be at nau, and molly/jenny/sarah/kristin will still be around. there are no guarantees of anything long-term, as relationships go, but back in prescott? an ice cube is likelier to survive on phoenician july sidewalk. even if were to go to phoenix, and perhaps live with nanni or stay with kristin-sunny, I have no experience with that kind of thing. the last floor is that I like school, and I'd like to still be in a place where I can get my writing worked on and still learn things and expand myself to write things like how weather's a coming-of-age symbol in "the gryphon" or about the emergence stories of the diné. I guess I don't have huge problems with self-discipline - writer - but I like learning. I like learning! and, since I can't go to grad school for another year, I'd rather keep learning and stay in school than go out and try and wait tables while living my parents. godawful. godawful.
I plan to do a family-chronicling journal in a bit.
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