Monthly Archives: February 2010

i cannot tell what a real laugh sounds like

I wake up without an alarm. Weird. BAD. I assume I am late and scramble to find out what time it is. A minute before my alarm was supposed to go off. I think “how ideal” before I wonder why all the lights are off.

A quick walk around campus told me that every building was missing electricity, and besides having to eat recycled food in the cafeteria, it was on many levels enjoyable. Everything looked different unplugged. The sliding chairs, and the polished tables, the stained glass, even the people. Some made negative comments, but in general no one complained. I guess they had an expectation that it would all return to normal soon so we should enjoy this change of pace while it lasted, but I have a sneaking suspicion that maybe we, from some part of us, in some dry warm box, want it this way. We just want to fall back before all this future, automatic, slap-chop drag came into existence.

I’m in the dark at the food court. Talks with friends. Unsure of what we just talked about, minutes after uttering it all. We spent so much time discussing something for some reason, I am almost sure of it. I am in the dark with people I know. The man in the flowing ribbon shirt and flowing ribbon hair talks about native american unsung tragedy. I had no idea. No clue they had so many suicides. No one told me about the ‘soul wound.’ I am in the dark about strangers. I tell myself: I can love, am talented, use the word “I” too much,  have a good reason to, am getting better at – that was a lie. No, actually, that was a lie. Actually

I am in the dark.


computers are weird

Toys break. We know this, yet we get angry when it happens. Maybe because we think we are entitled to a flawless system of reality. All the numbers aligning for us… we pay them to run, to exist, and they have no right to sleep in or die of an overdose.

For some reason my hard drive with 2 years of computer data on it decided to start today, on a whim, after crashing last night. The guy at I.T. said he didn’t know what exactly caused it to work again suddenly, but he called it “a mercy.” Working parts are a mercy. Order is a mercy. Some people like to pretend that they have rights stocked in metal safes all over the universe. I’d rather think I havenothing, and see everything as a mercy. It makes me less angry at everything. I’m not hopping around, 70’s fast food commercial giddy, smelling flowers and tree trunks and pedestrians, but when I accept that I’m a benefactor instead of a victim, I waste less time plotting a revenge against the world that will make me common.

addendum~ I saw a pretty girl at breakfast today reading The Little Prince and today the world seems good.

Early this morning I read some pieces by Charles Simic. He is my favorite magician of the month.

ideas with clothes on

So today I attempted to play around with Motion to make a rough draft of a production company I want to possibly start. Here it is. It happened even though the whole time I was stabbing in the dark pretending to know something about what I was doing. Which is funny because that’s the life story of most of my film projects anyway. This image is one that I’ve had for awhile and I still love it… maybe I should just go into the transportation business and launch ship hauling 747s. It was supposed to look wider. At least it did in the Motion display window, but whatever.

(Click the image to view.)

happening upon tracks in divergent terrain

Tap dancing lazily down stairs

It’s evident that tasks complete themselves

Your attendance is merely required

Fire. arms. Where have all the leaves gone?

This is some kind of skeleton soiree

And I feel right at home.

The Rose. Church windows gulping smoggy trims of dusk

What big eyes, for a tiny brick house.

My father spoke of breaking walls of stone

To get to his boy. Either one of his sons.

Just red fists to the looming crag. Look at them staring…

I still wait for a secret spring. This time. This time.