randombubblz's Xanga

Friday, April 20, 2007

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 13:09:15 GMT

Friday, April 20, 2007

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 13:08:56 GMT

Friday, April 20, 2007

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 13:08:37 GMT

Friday, April 20, 2007

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 13:08:16 GMT

Friday, April 20, 2007

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 13:07:49 GMT

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Tue, 27 Mar 2007 14:48:20 GMT

This is Kite, he's a darling old soul.
Sometime between now and later, I'd like you to fly with me.

[and yes it's a disgrace to have my flight-inhibiting hand included,
but he was shy and uncooperative otherwise.]

Sleepless view.

I know everyone's perpetually on the brink of an exhaustive meltdown, and for good excusable reason. I'm merely a part-time deskee and part-part-time student, but sure I don't always sleep. It's a necessary botheration that interrupts my ideas. But it's abominably obscene when you are deliriously fogged and spacey from it's deprivation, and you have the opportunity to suspend awareness or such such, to shuffle off your sleepless coil for ... the dreams that won't bloody come. And so you toss and turn, (which is a tritely conventional understatement of the horrific writhing of be-sheeted pillows and limbs) too late to call anyone, too tired to get up. Sometimes I take pictures, sometimes I count windows. And while yes I'm entertained by screen patterns, mysterious silhouettes and a tv's shouting shadows, after a few panoramas of empty streets and two hundred counted windows, the last traces of amusement and self-respect disappear.

So count sheep, they say. Easy for them to advise, while not including the necessary visual details. What sort of sheep am I counting? Are their lamby faces sympathetic to my crisis or smirking at my misfortune? Impressionistic styled or Art Nouveau? And this fence, white or a natural wood color? Is it's height approved by the HOA? And why sheep?

Such are the questions that besiege my irrational night's mind.

I've been studying just about every photojournalistic portrait style wedding photography book in existance, in preparation for the two weddings I'm shooting this summer. One's local for a stranger with the help of a friend, the other quite un-local for a friend with the help of California's sunsetting hills. I surely hope God has blessed my life with these opportunities for reasons other than to teach humility. Wedding photography was forever one of the Things I certainly Knew I'd never do, but I have confidence of Christ's leading and look forward to possibilities.

Excitement soars.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Tue, 20 Mar 2007 17:22:50 GMT

Oh days.

You pass & flow at whim, constant untamed like some polar coordinated fountain. The habit bend stares into uniform, second glances into surging new & again. Today is brown, will you be my chance of green?

School continues it's descentage, with some of the class obediently chanting hypnerotomachia poliphili [loosely translated as a long tale of weirdness] and others just now discovering the invention of block printing. [and you thought I had problems paying attention...] Batrachomyamachia is the battle of frogs and mice, may heaven bless the minds who coined such words.

Never bet on the fickleness of classmates with a frenchman when eating cold slimy fermented cafeteria macaroni & pimento salad is on the line. You will undoubtedly lose, endure the trauma of ingesting it and continue gagging at regular intervals throughout the semester.

Shudder.

Winter continues to hesitatingly falter it's way out, some just can't admit defeat. I only went boarding ten times this season, but that's pretty good considering our snowless [month and a half] of indian summer week. If I'd promised to take and teach you but never did I'm very sorry, but I've since discovered severe basket casage in regards to me teaching and articulating instructions about something I only learned from experience. "Be confident! Lean back! No, forward! No, center! I'm stupid!" [addlepated sigh] It was a mediocrital season, no phenomenal injuries or tricks to report but many awesome nights with fish-eyed, asparagus-stealing, intensely perky, hardcore, colorblind, elegant friends, talented beasts and beginners alike.

OH. THIS.

Two clean 360 indy grabs, the second one clearing a guy holding his board. He landed this beauty a couple times, and then a 900 and other rotations too fiendish for labels. Craaaazy.

But now that it's all over I'm anxious for warm weather and firefly evenings, bring on the humidity guv'nr.

The most red, green and glorious delight of late would be Kate Franklin the Lovely Cutthroat [soon to be] Skinner who visited here for spring break. Our days [and nights] were warm and bright, with imaginations sailing higher than our kite, higher than the birds we watched from the pavilion rooftop we dared to climb and rest on, higher even than our castle's highest shutter. Conversation wittier than Gilmore Girls, more insulting and sarcastic than Sarah Silverman, spiritual and life discussions deeper than the hotel pool we sneaked into after hours ["...for medicinal purposes"] and the river bridge named Dinosaur with Turtle and Sam beside. Late nights more bubbly than the amish yeast beer, crazier than ignoring the One Way road signs as we drove too fast [we = ok, me], possibilities brighter than the sunsetting expanse over resting wheat fields; a friendship closer than Brick & Brock, older than the antique shop's travelling trunk, more green than the Belfry walls, sweeter than jelly samples and our endless fruit snacks & more darling than the music box shop.

We explored streets from Alexandria to Lititz to Brunswick, home to hobo camp to hotel, choir lofts to caboose chimneys to construction carts in deserted rennovationing floors. Writer's block turned to typewriter's bliss, someday look for our illustrated story alongside Goodnight Moon & Amazing Rain.

Sappy sappy sappy, we're basically invincible.

but what's wholly marvelous my Darling is that you & i are more than you & i, because it's we.

And now, my dear reader, your tired eyes must be glazing over and Importances of Life reclaiming your attention.

Have an intensely spontaneous day, & live by love though the stars walk backward.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Tue, 20 Mar 2007 15:55:16 GMT

Saturday, March 03, 2007

Sat, 03 Mar 2007 14:30:26 GMT

what floor, please? said the elevator man

any floor, said Mr. In

top floor, said Mr. Out

this is the top floor, said the elevator man

have another floor put on, said Mr. Out

higher, said Mr. In

heaven, said Mr. Out

Friday, February 23, 2007

Fri, 23 Feb 2007 19:16:42 GMT

Polaroids and The Macro World: an Existential Journey through
the shrouded and severely visually impaired eyes of a blowfish.

Better.

Y'know it's especially gross when you take the timetakingtime to gather thoughts into words into run-on sentences into a lengthy detailed entry, purposed to amuse and patch the gaps of my latest minutes, finishing only to "submit" it to the great abysmal recycle bin in the cyber sky, lost forever. Abominable. I've been too scared and stark raving peeved to try again for days.

You probably wouldn't believe that was chance, but it was.

Josh auditioned for a 168 Film Project ( teams worldwide are given a verse and then one hundred and sixty-eight hours to write, direct and produce a film short. Then they have a mini festival and oscars awarded and good times are had by all.) He was a potential lead part turned grip turned small role'd actor, Dan went one night and was head documentarian of behind el scenes and last night I went, hoping with my exceptional skills and charm to work with the filming or photography, saving them from a bland, uncreative fate.

"Sorry, [you little hairball] tonight only [real] cast and crew."

Snort.

So faced with five hours of humbugging I got lost in an unfamiliar city and desolate parking garages and two black leather chairs in the history section of Borders ( a quiet, unbothered nook ) with a small mountain of picture pages. Blisssss.

Last weekend we were boarding, I was in the park and while clearing a jump I saw the kid who'd gone before me had wiped out EXACTLY WHERE I WAS GOING TO LAND ONE MILLISECOND LATER. Time slowed, mind screamed, before impact I managed to lean toe side and collide with his board instead of his head. We were dizzy and shaken, but thank God, both ok. (Ironically, he was a snowboard instructor attempting a front flip.)

Hoy.
These are custom made [and yes thank you, anatomically incorrect] removable glorified cast braces.
Go on, take a long, expensive look.

I kid you not, they cost my health insurance eight hundred and seventy-five dollars - EACH.

The entire visit, including the Mindless Sitting Fee in the Waiting for the Final Trumpet and/or Eternity room, the Surgeon's Fee of rotating my hands all of 10 degrees with her OH MY GOD THEY'RE PURPLE arctic talons, not to mention her brilliant "you should take it easy" morsel of never before heard advice, cost nearly $2000.

And the velcro is already coming off. Imbecillens.

life is short but you're here to flower

Spent a day downtown for the Joseph Cornell exhibit, he's one of my favorite and best creative geniuses of all lasting and passing time - his dream machines, cabinets of curiosity, uninterrupted series of exceptions - bringing intense beauty to the commonplace. He saw time as an eterniday, what else were scattered and lost.

In dreams, emotions are overwhelming.