Do The Safety Dance

As I was driving down somewhat peaceful Stevens Creek as the sun set behind me, I came to a seemingly frightening realization. I think I’m an Anarchist. I haven’t quite figured it out, but I just thought I should put it out there.

In other news, I forgot what I was going to say.

Outside Lands

This sounds amazing. Too bad I’m leaving four days before it starts.

I Like It Like This

Just truckin’ along with my self portraiture work.

All You Need Is Your Own Imagination

I just got back from the Chihuly exhibit at the De Young, and it’s really phenomenal. I wrote down a couple quotes I thought were really great:

…Chihuly is a performance artist whose installations function not just as set pieces, but as sets – theatrical stages upon which he, his works, and their audience are all protagonists.

“Obviously people are going to look at them and see things they want to see in them. I prefer that than if I told them what it is they should be seeing.” – Chihuly

After seeing his work, I don’t understand how people can only call it a craft instead of art. He had these really beautiful descriptions about the relationship between glass blowing and nature. Aside from how organic and primitive the final results look, nature seems almost the primary artist – gravity and fire and maybe even water are all key tools of the art. Glass wants to be and imitate nature. It’s such a visceral experience to be surrounded by his work. It just makes you feel so foreign to yourself.

At first I wished I had brought my camera, but forcing a three-dimensional experience into a flat object isn’t fair to the art. In fact, it just doesn’t work. It’s like what people say about the Mona Lisa: you can’t really appreciate it until you see it for yourself.

Is There Anything I Can Do For You, Dear?

Reading Even Cowgirls Get The Blues by Tom Robbins. Another simple quote:

Unfortunately, little darlings, there is no such thing as a simple love story. The most transitory puppy crush is complex to the extent of lying beyond the far reaches of the brain’s understanding. (The brain has a dangerous habit of messing around with stuff it cannot or will not comprehend.)

Of all times of the year, I feel the desire for love. Maybe the fourth of July just sparked a little firecracker somewhere inside me and initiated this unbelievable want. How patriotic?

My Hometown

I still feel the same way. And I’m still really embarrassed. Maybe I should just suck it up and stop trying to pursue this project and let whatever happen, happen.

But I’m not so happy with that idea. Why can’t I just have lots and lots of money? Then this project wouldn’t be such an issue. Well, less of an issue. I’d still have to get past the whole censorship thing. But it would still be less of an issue.

You’ve Got A New Friend

AU of Cairo asked me to write an e-mail describing why I want to take a graduate level course in order to be approved for enrollment. I’ve been reading my draft over and over and over, and just realized that I have written a five paragraph essay explaining why I should be allowed to take this course. Who does that?

I guess it’s not really a five paragraph essay. I mean, sure, there are five paragraphs. I don’t, however, follow the standard formula. I do not have a clear thesis statement in my opening paragraph, nor do I have three clear ideas I try to prove. It just so happens that my thought progression presented itself in five paragraphs.

Before I continue on a rant about writing and grammar and essays and whatnot, I’ll end the nerdiness here.