"Locate a small child. Shoot a video about his or her life. The video can be as simple or complex as you want. It can be done all in camera or heavily edited. Make titles and credits even if they are just shot off of a piece of paper. Please limit the length of your movie to five minutes.”
learning to love you more is an interactive art project (participatory website) by miranda july and harrell fletcher. the idea’s beautiful, it’s all about love, and learning, and appreciating. reminiscent of a yoko ono project, the website launched six years ago with the aim of “guiding people towards their own experience.” i like july’s work, but that last sentence personally disturbed me. not in terms of what the artists were trying to do (love!), but the idea that people (over 5,000 of them) needed to be guided toward their own experience. i hope i never end up with someone who can’t find their own experience. i hope i never become someone like that.
If the night turned cold And the stars looked down And you hug yourself On the cold, cold ground You wake the morning In a stranger’s coat No one would you see
You ask yourself, ‘Who’d watch for me?’ My only friend, who could it be? It’s hard to say it I hate to say it But it’s probably me
When your belly’s empty And the hunger’s so real And you’re too proud to beg And too dumb to steal You search the city For your only friend No one would you see You ask yourself, ‘Who’d watch for me?’ A solitary voice to speak out and set me free I hate to say it I hate to say it But it’s probably me
You’re not the easiest person I ever got to know And it’s hard for us both to let our feelings show Some would say I should let you go your way You’ll only make me cry But if there’s one guy, just one guy Who’d lay down his life for you and die It’s hard to say it I hate to say it But it’s probably me
When the world’s gone crazy, and it makes no sense And there’s only one voice that comes to your defence And the jury’s out And your eyes search the room One friendly face is all you need to see And if there’s one guy, just one guy Who’d lay down his life for you and die
I hate to say it I hate to say it But it’s probably me
I hate to say it I hate to say But it’s probably me I hate to say it I hate to say But it’s probably me I hate to say it I hate to say But it’s probably me
“I’m eighteen with a bullet
Got my finger on the trigger, I’m gonna pull it
I’m a super-soul sure-shot, yeah
I’m a national breakout
So let me check your playlist, mama
Huh, c’mon let’s make out
I’m high on the chart
I’m tip for the top
But till I’m in your heart
I ain’t never gonna stop
Never, never baby
We got a smash double-header
If we only stay together
Talkin’ ‘bout you
Talkin’ ‘bout me”— 18 with a bullet, Derrick Harriott
I bomb atomically, Socrates’ philosophies and hypothesis can’t define how I be droppin these mockeries, lyrically perform armed robbery Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me Battle-scarred shogun, explosion when my pen hits tremendous, ultra-violet shine blind forensics I inspect you, through the future see millenium Killa B’s sold fifty gold sixty platinum Shacklin the masses with drastic rap tactics Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths Black Wu jackets queen B’s ease the guns in Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function Heads by the score take flight incite a war Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans demand more Behold the bold soldier, control the globe slowly Proceeds to blow swingin swords like Shinobi Stomp grounds and pound footprints in solid rock Wu got it locked, performin live on your hottest block
now that the moon’s not on some crazy power trip, i feel the world returning to normal. except, apparently, normal isn’t something that applies to me (according to my sister, and several other people).
things are weird right now. not in a bad way, but i’m feeling unsettled. suspicious, even.
working through some personal ish, like: is it really fair of me to expect people to adhere to the same values i do? i wouldn’t accept it from them. word is bond.
music’s getting interesting again. seems like artists are on another level, trying to outdo each other in a weirder-than-thou way. i’m feeling more and more entertained.
relationships get more complicated with age. and i thought high school was melodramatic.
too much stuff everywhere - in my home, in my head, in my writing. trying to find some way to make everything stay in one place so i can deal with it.
cleanse. purge. bullshit, unnecessary stuff. i need to feel unfettered.
i’m digging this unknown future stuff. gets me all revved up. predictability = mediocrity. avoid at all costs. life’s one helluva rollercoaster ride.
not really feeling the smell of packaged boiled eggs.
feelings getting caught. unnecessary complications. more ish to snip away.
unexpected propositions could potentially be beautiful works of art.
"summer of the unexpected". at least the serendipity factor’s gone down. i think.
autumn chill began this morning. or maybe it’s just cold and i’m just such a pessimist i’ve killed the season.
need to find new addictions. new passions. new obsessive thoughts to take over my life completely and distract me from the unknown.
shit. i also need to go write some sort of constrained poetic form. deadline beckons.
front cover of the national post today: chinese introduce new sport: deception. i hate to be the one to let the np editors know, but trickery, manipulation, illusion and false presentations were not invented by the chinese, and unfortunately they don’t have a monopoly on lies either. a competition on who’s the best deceiver of them all might turn out interesting.
not condoning the actions of the olympic committee (hello flawed perceptions of beauty? all the other ish going on?), but the hateration in that headline was unnecessary and cheap. not that i expected better from the np anyway.
isms20080812: looking for a tracy chapman instrumental
a friend of mine is looking for an instrumental version of tracy chapman’s “born to fight”. if anyone has a copy, or knows where i could find one, please let me know. it would be greatly appreciated. thanks!
“Did we squander the chance in the rush of the race
The reason we chase is lost in romance
And still we try to justify the waste
For a taste of man’s greatest adventure
Have we got what it takes to advance?
Did we peak too soon?
If the world is so great
Then why does it scream under a blue moon?”— Sleeping Satellite, Tasmin Archer
“The charm of traveling is everywhere I go, tiny life. I go to the hotel, tiny soap, tiny shampoos, single-serving butter, tiny mouthwash and a single use toothbrush. Fold into the standard airplane seat. You’re a giant. The problem is your shoulders are too big. Your Alice in Wonderland legs are all of a sudden miles long so they touch the feet of the person in front. Dinner arrives, a miniature do-it-yourself Chicken Cordon Bleu hobby kit, sort of a put-it-together project to keep you busy.”— from Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk
what a beautiful number. all curvy and flowy and ish. all those zeroes and eights, just visually pleasing roundness. how could i not post on such a day?
the olympics officially started today. thousands of people are getting married. people wishing other people a happy 080808. good vibes. of course, it helps that it’s friday. and i’ve been consistently getting good news from people for a change.
i’m in a transitive stage again. one job winds down, another one begins. new roles, new responsibilities, new challenges and a way shorter commute. i’m feeling anxious and optimistic.
sideline artsy projects are starting to take shape. friends are all around. music is everywhere. food’s good.
right now, life is beautiful. summer and sunshine lift my depression. i know i’m on a high.
"it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me. and i’m feeling good."