Lately I've been really adamant on making sure I draw in my journal every day. It's easy, the sentiments are more straightforward, and I guess it keeps my wits up. As I do more and more of these drawings, I realize that my captions (and therefore writing) are becoming much larger. Today I pondered something in my journal that I usually leave for the blog: political meanderings and dia-dribble, thing is it was also very personal. There's no doubt in my mind that this country is flushing itself down the toilet, and if I were to leave it would be fully justified.
So if I were to describe the drawing: its a plane, and its encountering various symbolic clouds that represent my family and friends, my home and things, my education, my money, etc.
And the caption being:
So I value freedom as my natural right in life, but I asked myself, "Live Free or Die!" or "Life shackled and down-ridden with your friends and family around you!" When I put it to myself, the answer is very clear. I can't leave.
Unless some one/people would leave with me, then it would be a party.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Monday, March 3, 2008
Old post from older blogs: The Judicial Affairs Letter
I'm starting to dig up posts from older blogs... this one from my Media Writing Blog. I read it and realize how far I've come as a person since then. This was my judicial affairs letter when they tried to take away my rabbit (i tricked them, I didn't)
I ask that when I am placed in the stalks in front of town, spare me my dignity and honor. My grievous wrongdoing was bad, I know, but I understand my punishment. Let the physical pain be all there is to give me.
It was a foul, rainy day when my letter arrived to me. It was the indictment that was inevitable, the eviction. I had been harboring a fugitive hare for quite some time. I assumed that eventually the rage of my neighbors boiled over. Some of the extremely discontent advocated a violent solution, reaching to the very heads of state. Luckily, cooler minds prevailed and the authorities were contacted.
Their rage was justified in what that hare did to interrupt their everyday lives. It would scream throughout the night, disrupting quiet hours. How would they catch up on their sleep? While my back was turned that filthy hare would open up my drawers and rub its disgusting, germ-infested hairs on my unworn clothing. When I stepped out of my room I was the allergenic equivalent of the hydrogen bomb.
A comrade of mine who was visiting decided to take the hare home with him. There she will have the company of other filthy hares in the University of Rochester. That institution is noted for the serious allergen problems had by students, since small animals run untamed in their hallways. It is a serious issue that causes the very academic spokes that run the show to stutter and fail.
My prayers have been with my friend, hopefully he can make the trek back without incident. Hares are known to be carnivorous when without food for long periods of time.
I have complied with the judge’s order for re-education. What a profound effect the presentation had upon me! The decisions that Holocaust survivor juxtaposed next to the teenager who was simply too loaded to do the right thing really spoke to me. I actually was so compelled by the comparison that I proceeded to apply all my maligned collegiate decisions to various pogroms.
As the day closes, and my punishment ends, I hope we can all put this ordeal behind us. The dark ages are no longer with us, and we can now resume prosperity in our community. I will never falter like this again, for the damage I have done was far too great.
I ask that when I am placed in the stalks in front of town, spare me my dignity and honor. My grievous wrongdoing was bad, I know, but I understand my punishment. Let the physical pain be all there is to give me.
It was a foul, rainy day when my letter arrived to me. It was the indictment that was inevitable, the eviction. I had been harboring a fugitive hare for quite some time. I assumed that eventually the rage of my neighbors boiled over. Some of the extremely discontent advocated a violent solution, reaching to the very heads of state. Luckily, cooler minds prevailed and the authorities were contacted.
Their rage was justified in what that hare did to interrupt their everyday lives. It would scream throughout the night, disrupting quiet hours. How would they catch up on their sleep? While my back was turned that filthy hare would open up my drawers and rub its disgusting, germ-infested hairs on my unworn clothing. When I stepped out of my room I was the allergenic equivalent of the hydrogen bomb.
A comrade of mine who was visiting decided to take the hare home with him. There she will have the company of other filthy hares in the University of Rochester. That institution is noted for the serious allergen problems had by students, since small animals run untamed in their hallways. It is a serious issue that causes the very academic spokes that run the show to stutter and fail.
My prayers have been with my friend, hopefully he can make the trek back without incident. Hares are known to be carnivorous when without food for long periods of time.
I have complied with the judge’s order for re-education. What a profound effect the presentation had upon me! The decisions that Holocaust survivor juxtaposed next to the teenager who was simply too loaded to do the right thing really spoke to me. I actually was so compelled by the comparison that I proceeded to apply all my maligned collegiate decisions to various pogroms.
As the day closes, and my punishment ends, I hope we can all put this ordeal behind us. The dark ages are no longer with us, and we can now resume prosperity in our community. I will never falter like this again, for the damage I have done was far too great.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
prose with cartographic imagery.
When tectonic plates break and continents dissolve, whose duty is it to name and classify the once familiar now thrown into a game of Boggle that spells farce, hope, and the unknown ahead? Any major dude with half a sense of the human condition can expect gerrymandering and the inevitable upsets, but even as you charter the unknown with surveying tools less adequate than you believe, you still have doubt when you drag the pencil on paper.
Certainly no maps lie unfinished when the invisible pressure of the nebulous interpersonal forces bring you to your knees. As for myself, I would subscribe to and collect any steel magazines that would put you in peril. The nerves that reside in my spinal column would silently instruct me to stand upright, for I am in the presence of an aspect of the divine whose beacon I cannot fathom but must understand. These are more than just mere sentiments, they are marching orders over a dense forest, lush with wildlife, both tangible and simple manifestations of fear spun into yarns that panic anyone who might let this undesirable linen get the best of their peripheral vision.
Yet even if the turmoil subsides and you march upon the Northwest Passage, and you return in glory with ticker-tape parades and front-page articles... if life has taught you anything it is that nothing you have drawn can ever be a certainty. It makes you wonder why you draw maps at all sometimes, and why even with their seeming futility you can't help but keep your pencil sharpened.
Certainly no maps lie unfinished when the invisible pressure of the nebulous interpersonal forces bring you to your knees. As for myself, I would subscribe to and collect any steel magazines that would put you in peril. The nerves that reside in my spinal column would silently instruct me to stand upright, for I am in the presence of an aspect of the divine whose beacon I cannot fathom but must understand. These are more than just mere sentiments, they are marching orders over a dense forest, lush with wildlife, both tangible and simple manifestations of fear spun into yarns that panic anyone who might let this undesirable linen get the best of their peripheral vision.
Yet even if the turmoil subsides and you march upon the Northwest Passage, and you return in glory with ticker-tape parades and front-page articles... if life has taught you anything it is that nothing you have drawn can ever be a certainty. It makes you wonder why you draw maps at all sometimes, and why even with their seeming futility you can't help but keep your pencil sharpened.
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