I’m not sure who did this, but I recognize the artwork. Sort of. Ever since I found out about the Love Again project, I’ve stopped into their forum from time to time. Folks post images/prints/stickers they find, and I’m never quite sure if the posters are posting their own work (making them the authors), or…
Just added a new Flash photo dealie. It’s not technically an experiment, but I’m lumping it in there for lack of a better place. My overall goal was to provide some sort of slideshow, sifting through all the images of a given year. If you check out Fast Forward 2003, you’ll be able to see…
My schedule is all messed up now. I went to bed early last night, and woke up around 5:30 AM. I watched movies off and on in the morning, and took more naps than was really necessary. In fact, I spent most of the day sleeping. Does anyone else have days like this? I seem…
Justin and I had a few drinks after work and, as we are want to do, ended up geeking out some. Last weekend, I ended up working with him on developing a Flash-based audio player. In return, I’m able to tap Justin’s considerable database/programming prowess for some project of my own… but I’ve yet to…
There is this old house on North Avenue that’s been under some sort of reconstruction for many, many months now. It looks run down, but each time I see it I think of it as a good house, a strong house. For some reason. Reconstruction is a misleading word. Someone sold it, and for a…
Here’s what I picked (the poems that I’ve put on the blog are linked): Elevators, Like God, Make No PromisesInstructions for a Tibetan Air BurialFirst SnowPhotographySweatDryer Wish me luck…
I got an email back from the guy who runs the Myopic Poetry Series. Turns out they do, indeed, accept submissions from anyone at all. So I’m planning on digging through some poems and sending them off, in the hopes of garnering a spot in the coming months. Woot!
Someone got a hankering for Taco Bell, and we (me, Ben and Chris) ended up walking downtown to get some tacos and burritos. Taco Bell is every bit as good (and as nasty) as I remember it. There’s definitely something about biting into Grade F beef that makes it seem like a delicacy. This was…
by Louise Glück Suddenly, after you die, those friendswho never agreed about anythingagree about your character.They’re like a houseful of singers rehearsingthe same score:you were just, you were kind, you lived a fortunate life.No harmony. No counterpoint. Exceptthey’re not performers;real tears are shed. Luckily, you’re dead; otherwiseyou’d be overcome with revulsion.But when that’s passed,when the…
I stopped off at a few places. I went in to Myopic Books to ask whether the Wicker Park Chess Club is currently meeting. So far, due to the reconstruction, they haven’t reconvened. But I’ve been asking. Hmm. There’s a Poetry Series there. I wonder if I should try to see if I can read…
On my way out, I decided to stop in at Dunphy’s for a drink. I had designs on seeing Louise Glück (our current poet laureate) read tonight at the Poetry Center with Gretchen, but planned the whole thing poorly. I had assumed we could just show up and buy tickets, but didn’t even consider the…
For those that saw my entry yesterday about the Palahniuk reading… I’ve got a few links for you. Keep in mind that folks were (purportedly) passing out during the reading. Click at your own discretion (although the audio link is probably NSFW). Read the story here.Listen to the story here.
I started corresponding again with my friend Dipti (someone I have known since middle school, and became good friends with in college). She’s an excellent photographer, and has recently started to do more web-based work for the Knoxville News Sentinel. Check out a piece she did called Digging for Ginseng: An Appalachian Tradition. This is…
What cracks me up about this isn’t the fact that the sign says “modernization.” It’s the fact that, on walking out of the elevator, Ben and I both saw this sign, looked at each other and laughed, as I took my camera out. We both knew that this needed to be photographed.
While waiting for coffee at Artisan this afternoon, I saw my reflection in a metallic trashcan. Curved, reflective surfaces: the poor man’s fisheye lens.