Machine, Machine...

 

Come to life

Cogs grind, sweat, and drip condensation

A singular drive to move

The promise of progress, that kinetic agony of motion

Somber metals screech to life

Inert, Alert

Nothing quite like seeing those rusted works in motion

 

So yes, I wrote a poem today. It's a shorty, but I didn't spend much time on it. The point is that there is much work to be done next month. Exciting, yes. The landscape piece I've been working on is going to be in an exhibition in a few weeks. I thought by submitting it to Agora V, the deadline will get me working double-time to finish.

I'm also taking courses to nab my Certified Internet Webmaster cert. A prestigious-sounding title, no doubt. It's my doorway to the next certification in line, which is Java-scripting. A less prestigious-sounding, but more insanely useful title. It's the only way I can learn the software programs I need. (action-scripting, yum!)

Once I get a working grasp of Flash software, there's also a myriad of side-projects currently on the back-burner that need some addressing. (wink, wink, Brent)

Speaking of back-burners, Jeff has stopped asking me, "How's the Manta coming along?" Are there enough hours in the day for all of this?

We're bound to find the answer to that question come November. Jeff's thrown the gauntlet down, and we're going to be participating in NaNoWriMo this year. Care to join in the tradition of procrastinating for years, and then suddenly trying to overcompensate by doing the impossible? Sure you do! Come write the great American novel... in a month. Click here.

Get to work!

Landscape Life

Nothing much to share today.

I am surrounded by a landscape that continues to reshape itself into new configurations.

The familiar and nostalgic reemerge time and again, combine with some previously unexplored terrain feature, fade into the distance.

Paradox: There is no reason to take a step in any direction because the world moves of its own accord. Or adversely, you wish to remain close to a significant landmark, in which case it is your prerogative to give chase.

Hopelessly, vigorously, I leap up a waterfall like a deranged salmon.

The Bathroom Fox

I found one of my housemates in the bathroom this morning. She was doing a little light reading. I was impressed to see she had found a copy of Time-Life's "The War in the Desert."

I never would have pegged her for a World War II buff, but it seems that she is a great admirer of Erwin Rommel. And not just because he was a skillful military commander. She likes him because of his nickname, the "Desert Fox." More than likely, she may believe that he was a literal desert fox, and is more interested in thinking about the sorts of rodents he ate.

Read to your pets to keep history alive.

Eldritch and Gibbering

As it stands, I did not get any work done on the table last night. We were busy for most of the evening ferrying people from the airport to various residences throughout the city. When I got home, I was alarmed to find the studio taken over by some malevolent force from Beyond.

The two Lovecraftian adjectives that most closely describe this extra-dimensional beast are are eldritch and gibbering. And horror. I suppose you could just call it an gibbering horror that was eldritch. Or a horrible gibbering eldritch. Or just maybe just some combination of the letters. GEH.

And that's why I didn't get the chance to work on this project.

I noticed that I was lifting weights while drinking a beer today. It was a reflective moment. The internal forces that govern my person continue to wage war in this manner, vying for time and resources as they are doled out. Multitasking is an art. Oh yes, I am the eye of the storm.

'Ere We Go! ~ part 2

So things look much different after an evening of work. My cardboard supplies are low at the moment, so only some basic structures have taken shape. Not much to report yet, but I promised myself I'd be dutiful about documenting each relevant phase.

The little irregular wooden cubes were left in the closet of my old studio by Philip Brou, the previous tenant. Phil, by some weird quirk, was also fascinated with building miniature dioramas. We had that common ground to base our relationship, but circumstances caught us at odds. He, having just completed his M.F.A., was on his way out, while I was just getting started. So like ships passing in the night, we never got to have more than a passing conversation about our shared aesthetics. (I'm writing this now as a reminder to look him up sometime soon)

Either by design or inadvertently, Phil left me a whole closet full of supplies and art materials when he moved out. Worthless to anyone but myself, these odds and ends have dispersed throughout every "miscellaneous items" box in our house, and the bag of small wooden cubes is just one example.

I actually got tired of working on this sometime in the course of the evening. I found a card game on the Newgrounds site that had me hypnotized for hours. The Necronomicon is a game that is based on the short stories of horror writer H.P. Lovecraft.

Even as a single player online card-gaming experience, the AI of the opponent proved to keep me challenged. Sometimes it would made weird mistakes that swung the game in my favor, but there were no big, glaring weaknesses that I saw. It's a simple little game to pick up and learn-- and free to boot.

Alright. Back to work.

'Ere We Go!

I'm starting a new project tonight, sort of a close relative to the fragments from Sludgetown that are floating around in our basement. I'm showing you the bare door panel as a starting point because I want to document every stage of this as it develops.

I've tried working out sketches of what it is I'm going to do with this door panel, but it looks like I'm shooting from the hip tonight. I have no real clue where this is headed, albeit a vague idea of landscape that's been batting around in my practice for years now. Maybe start with some little cardboard houses and walls, and then see where we go from there.

Operation Haircut Freedom

The haircut was successful. It took about seventeen minutes, which adds up to about a dollar a minute plus tip. Now that's out of the way, I won't have to worry about it for a few more months. Mission successful!

Now if only I could have equal success in Operation Enduring Paycheck, this month would be off to a great start.

Current developments:

-I've managed to secure an infinite supply of old wooden doors on which I plan to build a huge diorama. Should be fun, and I look forward to getting started. Woo! May have to work in the basement for this one, which means organizing the space to handle a project of this magnitude.

-Today is a good day for music of any sort.

-If you're reading this and you are human, treat yourself to something special today. The sheer miracle of existence and conscious decision-making is yours for the taking!

The Haircut Paradigm

I dislike the growing of hair on principle, but ultimately find it to be an unavoidable paradigm of existence. And now it's that time again: I need a haircut.

Haircuts aren't that bad, but I put them off until the last minute when I can. Usually I wait to the point when my wife is saying "Wow you really need a haircut" many times a day. That's when I know it's time to stroll down to Saturday's and shuck out $20 plus tip for a haircut that takes less than 5 minutes.

The horror...

Echoes

 

 

 

I just need to hear you say it.