I'm finding it hard to have nothing to say.
To the Secretary of the
Treasury Washington D.C.
While in the army in 1863 at one time when there was bread being distributed I managed to get two loaves when I suppose it was intended for each person to only have one, therefore in order to satisfy a reproving concience I remit one dollar which I suppose will cover the amt, with compound int, which please drop in the treasury.
$1 deposited
Conscience
March of 99
I have some (pretty lame) pictures that I promise I’ll get up soon. Pinky swear.
Still, congrats!
Only through the brilliantly disconnected web of Wikipedia could I discover one of the most fascinating articles I’ve ever read.
The article, titled The Process Church of The Final Judgment, is about a splinter client cult group that broke from Scientology in 1965. The Process Church (as it was called) came to be identified as a Satanic cult, for their worship of three Gods: Jehovah, Lucifer, and Satan. They were also (more recently) linked to David Berkowitz, the Son of Sam serial killer.
The part that fascinates me about this article comes in way of explaining how the group changed throughout the years, eventually resulting in the removal of its founder. It seems that their focus has strayed quite a bit.
To wit:
Further changes in both name and focus followed, and the organization eventually became the Best Friends Animal Society, which is now one of America’s best known animal welfare rescue groups.
That’s right. From Satanic cult to animal welfare rescue group in just over 20 years.
Oku on odosketch.
This goes to show just how obvious it is that I’m not the illustrator behind The Suckered.
This week is a big one for birthdays: Cari Gregg, Aunt Kelly, Lindsey, and Holly Davidson. If I weren’t exhausted, I’d write something specific to each of them. Something like, I’m sure Bryce’s birthday present to Lindsey was a murdered hobo. I’d also imply, without stating outright, that my Aunt Kelly is fifty years old. Then I’d spend the rest of the time trying to come up with clever things to say for the other two, and they probably wouldn’t be as good.
That said, I’d do all that if I weren’t exhausted right now. As it is, I’ll just say, “Happy Birthday,” and go on my way.
In junior high, we students got our first taste of performance competition. It’s been called by many names, but we called it “oral interpretation”. I can’t now recall the exact categories; perhaps: dramatic, humorous, and poetry, but I may be wrong.
I remember that the most difficult part was picking a piece to perform. I poured over the works we had to choose from, even asking at one point if we could write our own. I was told you can sort of do that in high school. That category, it would turn out, was called “original oratory”.
I remember practicing a piece with the oral interp instructor. The piece used a regular foot and meter, and it even rhymed. As I began to read the lines, the instructor stopped me. She informed me that, for competition, poetry is not supposed to be read that way. Read it by the sentences; don’t pause at the line endings, and don’t make it obvious that you’re rhyming.
Honestly, I was put off by this. It seemed unnatural and contrary to read poetry that way. It felt like an attempt to read poetry as if it were prose. Wouldn’t this do a disservice to poetry? I asked all these questions of myself, but I did not ask them aloud. Instead, I did what I was told, and I reread the poetry, apparently to her liking.
I mention this because I just read some poetry. I mention this because I still think about how odd it felt to read poetry that way and how it runs across my mind whenever I come upon poetry. I think about that, but then I compare it to my own poetry. When I write poetry, I am very much aware of the line endings. That break, that step, is as much an important part of the poem as the meter and foot. It equal in importance to the words themselves. Why, then, shouldn’t someone read poetry for the lines?
I, deliberately, choose the life of each line. To read poetry ignorant of its physical structure is as graceful as somersaulting down a flight of stairs. The steps are there for a reason.
Can’t beat a day at Valley Fair. Especially when the alternative is a day at the nursing home.
Galactic Mail from Asterokid on Vimeo.
Galactic Mail is a project I made along with my friend Jonathan Vuillemin aka Motraboy. It was produced by The Mill in 2008. We used XSI Softimage as a main tool. Check my website for more infos: asterokid.com
Materia from Oscar Santamaria Rojo on Vimeo.
Trabajo de motion graphics y procesing para curso de motiongraphics idep2009
Happy Anniversary, Holliweather.
