Saturday, February 20th, 2010
a creature, a man
takes a step foward and
we realize that a step is
everything
cause and effect
situation where
the free lives lie and the
moonsing
free light
unequivocable charge
the ancients who dance and
rumpus moonshake dollar bills
soon follow
Thursday, February 18th, 2010
I went out to play
On a virtuous day
In this sea they call sweet love.
I found a nice girl,
So i gave her a twirl
And tried on her velvet glove.
She gave me a smile
Then laughed for a long while.
I’m sure she thought of a joke,
A joke,
A joke,
I’m sure sure she thought of a joke.
Thursday, February 18th, 2010
An experiment of sorts in digital poetry.
Tuesday, February 16th, 2010
My thesis is //
// Essentially the split between reality and reality.
There is the reality you imagine you are in… and then the reality that really is. You are constantly constructing a false reality for yourself. (The fact that I call it a false reality is somewhat misleading. No matter how false it is, as long as it is real to you, then it remains a reality).
What truly goes on, if realized in a way that you could understand, would destroy your reality and create a new one. Humans are, after a certain age, more and more resistant to this rather personal destruction of a world they’ve long struggled to create. And so when presenting ideas to them, the best way to do it is through abstraction and fantasy.
You must lead them to these new realities by introducting new ideas in ways that do not hammer at them, but rather present themselves in ways that allow them to occur as if the subject has thought of them as his/her own.
It must, in essence, become “unreal.”
Tuesday, February 16th, 2010
What is the mood I seek? That is a fairly hard question. One might say, I seek the macabre. To disgust, shock, scare and horrify. But that would be untrue. The mood I seek is that of revelation. Of truth. My mental model of the world is based on what I consider irrefutable, sometimes harsh, truths. Truths that people do not want to admit to, but exist nonetheless. I like, admire, and seek to exemplify those works which dig at the so called “dirty” heart of humankind or indeed of life in general.
But, to do so is difficult. One cannot just say “such and such a thing is true” or “this is what you must believe.” People do not respond well to that sort of diatribe. You have to coax them, startle them, or somehow guide them along a path to an idea. You must force them to reveal the idea to themselves. Only then will they know it is true. Writers have been doing this since before we can remember. The world of literature has been exposing these truths time and time again. But in animation… it is rare that I see this happen. Sometimes it does. Don’t get me wrong. But not nearly as often.
And this is what I wish to do. Almost all of the stories I tell (written or digital) has dealt with something along this line. Though really, I don’t think of it in such terms. In my head, I usually think: “This is what I think and this is what I feel. Now how can I abstract it so that others may draw the same conclusions.”
Saturday, February 13th, 2010
“Why don’t you write something nice for a change?”
That’s what she said.
And he said.
And hell, even I used to say – until I realized that I didn’t like nice and pleasant stories. They’re bland and uninteresting and at best they’re useful for teaching young children how to read. .
But what the hell. Let’s give it a shot. I’ll do my best to tell a pleasant story.
v This is where the story begins.
There once was a rabbit. No, let’s make him a white bunny. And fluffy and cute. But let’s not give him a name because a name implies too much and anyway, it doesn’t matter what he’s called because the first thing you say when you see him is “awww” and his mother never would have named him that because rabbits can’t make that sound in the first place.
The bunny was sitting in the middle of a meadow. There were a few trees here and there. The sun was shining, There was a light breeze and a river sparkling in the distance. The bunny had just eaten. It was… pleasant. All of a sudden the wind shifted and the bunny shot up, alert. His cute little nose wiggled and his chubby tailed twitched. “But, what is this?” you may ask. “But you said this was going to be a nice story,” you may argue.
Friday, February 12th, 2010
Today, I had a crêpe.
Delicious crêpe, golden brown, sitting inside the bowl. I gazed at it with adoration. It was big and I was healthy. I loved the sweet, stinking aroma that rose from the crêpe. The brown sludge that oozed from the sides, was a little off-putting though.
I nibbled on it gently, creamy goodness cascading down my throat.
And then I flushed the toilet.
Thursday, February 11th, 2010
huge beautiful woman
her delicious heaven
down here
take bite
intoxication
i’ve seriously been slacking here. but last two days have been too busy.
here’s a poem made with 11 words i chose at random. damn it i still have to put up that story i promised. tonight. maybe.
Tuesday, February 9th, 2010
I’ll actually revisit these at some point, but these are the first 3 ideas I have for thesis stories. In the end I’ll probably combine their best elements.
Idea:
Time. It’s like a warm explosion of sunlight. This hesitation makes for a flare a constant state of change this thing. And then there is the other on the horizon. Hovering. But slowly drawing closer and pushing the other away. Like balance except it orbits in circles.
Idea:
There is a rather enjoyable feeling to chewing a piece of gum. A gnashing a thrasing of the teeth that is confident even as the teeth destroy themselves through repetitive motion. The stringy strands that sing, stretch and *pop*. The bubbles that vanish even before they appear. There is a manchild masochist in the bubbles. It appears he likes being chewed on.
Idea:
A shadow. Pool of darkness to be stepped in. Consumes. You are fearful. You are brave. It seeps in through the cracks. Only when you take it on and absorb it and absorb you do you die and survive.
Monday, February 8th, 2010
Today was a pretty busy day. So i’ll just do a sort of freewrite. Whatever pops into my head. I’ll attempt to make it more or less coherent though. No story bumbling about inside my head. Which is pretty bad considering I have to make up a few for thesis tomorrow.
Ha.
my laughter rebounds off the walls, filling the room with a senseless chill of dread. Much like the butter free curls on a princess, the brown dog finds the quick fox sainted and fainted in nightly glory. this isn’t exactly a new song, but then again what is. all that has come before has come before and all that has come after has come before too, but then again what is life, if not that. this peanut butter sandwhich which lies in my nose is rather large and uncomfortable and sticky too and also, it smells like peanut butter which is of a consistency which reminds me of poo and the dreary sound of molasses running down a wall. after being thrown there.
thrown there with so much pizaaz. so much flash, vim and vigor that one might wonder, what, what. in a better world if it had not been revealed to be a master. this lumpless turn that i drop on the paper. i still call it paper even though it is digital and ink, if archaic, is a medium which the old folks use the subjugate the new. this virtuoso masturbation is a mental freedom only afforded to the stiff masses in their phallic symbols and their massive e-peens of glory.
oh dear. i was supposed to keep this coherent. well i guess i’ll just call it a freewrite at that.
day after tomorrow, a real story. i promise.
and because i promised, so it i must keep.
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