schmupdates

Well I've changed a few things since last time you've seen the photos. For the main text around the head, I only use quotes from the text given to me. However, behind it are words/sentences/poems that I've made out of the text provided, that either reinforces their statements or sort of says things that might be more implicit.

Let me know your thoughts. I also have a few single photos that aren't complete yet without their counterparts. I'll post those later.

Electric Afterlife

Do computers go to heaven?


...because mine is officially dead. It froze up Friday and now every time I turn it on it tells me I'm missing a vital operating file. (Windows\System32\config\system). Apparently I need to reinstall the operating software via my XP CD... which I don't have. >_<

Seeing as all my work for all my classes is holed away inside, I'm in a bit of a panic.
I'm not sure if it's my turn to post or not (I'm seeing that there's some confusion on the issue)
but I'll throw up some material anyway.

Also - I'm noticing my posts tend to be long, semi-sane rants.
Apologies; this one will be short, just three quick pics:

Dreams

This begins when Rinnah is remembering her camp instructor. There are some parts where I skipped because it needs work such as the only thing that connects Acario, Rinnah, Ada, and Cynna is a little boy name Joshua whom they all went to camp with.


“Welcome to summer camp” she would say

"Here is a place in which you must learn to leave the outside world behind. Stay in line Tommy Lee….now let’s see."

She counted the heads in a systematic rush searching and smiling.

“Ah… this woods is my kingdom, my domain you will follow my rules whether you like it or not, but rest assure you will because here is where you will learn to be modest citizen within the outside world and the trick is having control of your life, you must learn how to control yourself, your habits your eccentric habits.”

This speech made the children point fingers to little Joshy in the corner who was always talking and laughing to himself.

Welcome We have much work for you so we must hurry along” Joshua said grabbing her wrist and pulled her away from the cliff.

“Wait I must wait for my friend,” she protested

“Friends?”

“Yes”

“What are friends?”

She was perplexed by his perplexity, how ignorant can he bee not to knowing what friends were or a sense of fashion.

“My friends, the one I came with,” she explained.

“Where”

“Here”

“Friends?”

“Yes, they are my companion they were helping me catch frogs”

“Frogs?”

“Yes! Don’t you understand?”

“No…what frogs?”

She grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the edge of the cliff

“Look” she exclaimed.

“I see no frogs”

To her amazement it didn’t looked liked they were chasing frogs anymore but disgusting insect like creature spreading throughout the whole field. And Acario, Ada and Cynna continued to move through the mud hopping, leaping, and croaking at their failure.

“They are your friends?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because”

“But I thought friends are people how knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words”

“They are”

“Them….and you want to help them”?

“Yes “

“Ok,” he sat down on a nearby stone and watch her intensely. “Help them”

“What”

“The mental inebriates looks quite comfortable where they are but if you choose to help them than go right ahead. Everyone is entitled to the work that the master is ready to give but only when they are ready.”

Quickly, she stood on the edge of the cliff and started to call their names. Acario was the first one to hear her calls. He notices the firm golden rope that wooed him to the familiar voice on the other side. Cynna was second, it was a challenger for her to climb the rope because every time she fell, she seemed to be distracted by the strange marsh creatures. However, Ada couldn’t manage to break free, every time she notice the rope a frog would jump in her face and giggle out of amusement which made her amuse. They were much more interesting than that single rope that led to one direction. What was it anyways, and its purpose the golden rules? Wow, just like grade school. But these creatures giggle, danced, hopped and glide in every direction into those fun soft places. They formed and the deformed their environment making it appeared the way they wanted it to seem rather than what it was. The rope just stood with its steep structure, hard and simple, too plain for taste and fun. There’s no way of changing that. Ada had time to contemplate once you reach the top there’s nowhere to go but down so why bother. But these creatures had slippery eyes moving and dancing and different direction as they laugh audibly in their slippery fun. She was too comfortable. She wouldn’t budge.

“We don’t have much time left we must be going,” Joshua warned. But the three refused to go on without their friend they demand.

He walked over to the edge and called her name out in such an alarming manner that the whole cliff began to tremble.

Ada looked up and was dazed in his jade eyes, they were different, and something she has never seen before in any of her dreams. The color was so rich. She was captivated and decided to see what this message he was giving through his eyes alone was about. She began to climb the rope. How can Jade like grass like peas were trapped in such a solid like structure?

As the three watched their comrade ascend the rope the marshland began to collapse, and the forest began to tremble. It curved within its self and splitting at the edge in four different places towards the east.

“Oh dear” Joshua said as he looked in amazement.

“What’s happening? Stop this!” Rinnah ran towards him tugging on his arm.

Acario and Cynna beg Ada not to look down but to climb the robe. She couldn’t understand what they were saying and why they were so frantic.

“Keep going!” they yelled.

Rickety, Ada ascended the cliff to the top where Acario and Cynna helped her up on the edge.

“What were you saying I couldn’t here you over the….”

“Doesn’t matter now we were telling you not to…”

“What was that noise?” Ada asked as she looked down.

“ …look back” Joshua finished their sentence

The eroding blare distracted her from the warnings on those pretty green eyes the moment she look down the rope broke along with the edge of the cliff she was sitting on and the quagmire engulfed her, crushing her body, snatching Ada away from the watchful eyes.

“This is not happening it feels….”

“Oh Dear” Joshua mouth off again

“Oh dear what? Is that all you can say” Acario yelled

“She wasn’t ready….”

The song is done!

Well, for now, until my ears stop bleeding and my brain stops boiling out my ears. I started work on it at noon Saturday and just finished recording and mastering at 2:30 AM. I wound up using penny whistles, cello, flute, four different guitars, three different keyboard patches, hand drums, real drums, electric drums, three part harmony with myself (I hope I don't go blind), and bass guitar. I am WAY rusty, and my fingers hurt tremendously from the steel strings digging into my sadly non-calloused finger tips.

Anyway, I've charted the flow of the project to end with "The End" fittingly enough, and beginning with a poem called "The Beginning" oddly, fittingly, and unfortunately unimaginatively enough. I thought that since this was my final class for my final year (not true) and the end of a long road to BA-ville, that I would create something called the end.

I have "The Beginning" which describes the birth of life and the ultimate climb of the evolutionary ladder to the point at which we attain the mental capacity for superstition, for mindless ceremony and meaningless rituals are what separate us from the animals (just kidding, somewhat).

In the middle, I've written several poems asking questions and intentionally delivering no answers or speculations ending with "The End" which is a question to provoke.

We all want power. If we didn't, we'd have been content to stay in Eden, if there was one, and remain naked and ignorant, but we didn't and we continue to seek power by asking questions. Knowledge is power and the only way to get it is to question.

The chap book will be four inches square with a fold out sheet that the reader will read on the way the to cd, which will be at the heart of the package.

I should have it done by tomorrow.

Confused

Ok, fellow classmates, I'm pretty confused when it comes to when I have to post. On the schedule, it says that Group B posts this week. Unfortunately, I also thought that last week was Group B, and the week before that.

So I've decided to write you guys this brief, whiney note instead of posting poems for three weeks in a row. I just don't have anything new yet. So, let me refer you guys to my last post, which would have been this week: More WABI SABI.

Yowza.

Just before they reached the end of Main Street, her mother disrupted the consistency by turning right onto a narrower street.
“Mom, why are we going down Remsen?” Emma asked, confused why her mother would take her towards Hempstead.
“You’ll see.”
Both Emma and her mother walked slower, paying careful attention to the un-leveled sidewalk, her mother’s kitten heels clicking with each step. It was cracked and protruded, unlike the even sidewalks throughout Garden City. It was strange to think that her mother would willingly take Emma in this direction. Emma was always scolded as a child if she wandered too far away from the center of town. Hempstead was no place for a young girl to be walking by herself, at least, that’s what the women of Garden City believed. Although their town was considered one of the most prestigious of New York, it was piggybacked to Hempstead, which contained some of the poorest people in the area. One street was lined with newly built city lamps and flowerpots, and literally the next consisted of metal link fences and littered garbage.
As they walked further down the street, they approach a park playground.
“Remember this place Emma?” Her mother said with clear hope and excitement.
Emma didn’t recall the location. It looked like any other generic playground with a set of swings, monkey bars, and a yellow slide. Her mother slumped her shoulders, realizing that Emma had not made a connection.
"I used to take you here all the time when you were little. Remember? We would go before your soccer games.”
There was nothing of a playground in Emma’s memory. But, she did remember always walking with her grandfather to the Saturday morning games, kicking at the dandelions to ease her childish nerves. And the morning when he made her feel special. Her grandfather was helping her tie her shoelaces before her game. She was seven. It was morning, and the air still had a damp chill to it, the sun was not at its peak. The dewdrops on the grass tickled her feet as she walked onto the field, holding her grandfather’s hand. She jumped to the ground and stuck her legs out in front of her, wiggling her untied cleats. They were cherry red. Her mother wanted her to get the black, like the rest of the girls. Her grandfather knelt down before her and began his ritual. He would slap the soles of her feet, to make sure they were on nice and tight, he would say. She giggled when he would do that. But this day, as he meticulously tied her laces into bows, he stopped himself. Gripping her ankles with a tightness she had never experienced him to have before, he looked up into her eyes.
“No one will ever understand you like I do.” He said, only for her to hear. “Do you know that?”
She nodded, slow and deliberate.

Her mother took her hand and led her towards the swings. They rocked in silence. Emma grasped her left hand, the coolness of the watch soothing her. A mixture from the boys dribbling a basketball further down the street, and the rustle of leaves against the mulch in the playground was the only sounds to be heard from where she and her mother sat. But then Emma saw him. Actually, she felt his gaze before she saw him. A man was across the street, walking by the playground. He glanced at Emma, and she sensed a connection immediately. Something familiar jarred her senses. It was the way he carried himself. He walked with importance. He wore navy corduroys and a black down vest, with a dark turtleneck underneath. His hair was longer but it had the same thickness, the same ashy gray color.
“It’s him,” Emma whispered.
“Mother,” Emma tugged on her mother’s shirtsleeve, pointing in the man’s direction. “Don’t you see? He recognizes me?”
“What are you talking about?” Her mother said.
“Just look. He’s watching me.”
“Emma, he’s homeless,” her mother hissed.
“But—“
“Emma, stop. Don’t draw attention to yourself. He’s looking only because you keep looking at him.”
“No mother, I swear…” Emma trailed off, knowing her mother would never understand.

Early Post for Group B, Other Thangs

Hey all,

Hope your weekend is/was fabulous...I decided to post a little early and try to help people out who may be confused about the blog. I believe that I am the first person in Group B to post for this week. Group B should be comprised of those in the latter half of the alphabet...I know I've been having trouble going back and seeing where the groups' posts begin/end...so maybe this will be a trend?

Anyhoo, I have some pictures for you all. I was playing around with the idea earlier of putting ALL (texts and pics) of this junk into a movie format and then make a chapbook-esque container for the DVD this would all eventually go on. Tell me what you think about that idea in your comments...