My Hair

Pictures of my hair will come soon. For now I like to pretend I look like Janet Munro. So here are some pictures of her.

I need to learn more about her. I think I like her. Yep.

Buttons and Bows

http://www.aiga.org/resources/content/5/2/0/4/images/AIGA-Gluck-collages.jpg

Lately, I have been returning to my love of collages. Particularly, right now, my fascination seems to be with the use of music as a material for collage. There's something about highlighting the visual aspect of music, and also adding some phantom audio experience to a visual piece. This was originally inspired by a sweet blog I follow.

Also. I find myself intrigued by buttons and bows. My feminine side finally creeping out? I don't know. But if I could dress up all bedazzled in buttons and bows... buttons down my sleeves and bows in my hair preferably... and pull off that cutesy look. I would.

I do know that buttons seem so decadent to me. So simple and shiny. Often sewn on where they don't need to be. Bows seem so cute and feminine to me. And once again truly decadent.

Or take this for example. Why exactly is that so appealing to me? I don't know.

I do know why collage appeals to me so much, I think. Bringing together different worlds into one coherent and beautiful whole. The texture. The colour. The tangibility of what was broken and taken out of its original context now incorporated and beautiful. Something like that.

Random starling obsessions revealed.

The Thought I Once Thought Was Brilliant

The further away I get from the first realization of the brilliant inspiration that I am finally going to make a cheap representation of, the more like utter and obvious crap it does seem. But, I promised a reproduction, however cheap, and I like to think I keep my promises... eventually.

Of course part of the reason it seemed brilliant, as I explained before, is that I was just waking up in the warm sunshine, and just falling back to sleep. That is a marvelous state of being and one I would wish for anybody. But much like being drunk it does have a tendency to make one think that all of their ideas are sublime.

And maybe, really, this idea isn't so bad after all, and it is only the fact that I have already chewed all the flavor out of it in my own mind that makes it seem less satisfactory. Maybe I shouldn't be overloading the reader with my own biases before presenting the idea itself. Maybe if I had presented it as a brilliant ideas, you my dear readers would all go off basking in it. But now that I have expressed some doubts, surely you will not waste your time.

Maybe I am never really going to tell you the idea at all, but just keep alluding to it. Since the idea is not really the important part, but rather the fact that the idea inspired to continue my own self-education. Ah, well.

My idea was that somehow academia had been this kind of white rabbitish creature. I had been chasing deadlines and seeking approval from professor after professor for a good number of years. Then finally, no more rabbit. By this time, in pursuit of the rabbit, I had dug myself quite the Kafkaesque burrow.

I enjoyed my burrow. I enjoyed knowing how much to procrastinate and which assignments were the tastiest variety and which I should just kind of slump through. I enjoyed thinking that somehow the burrow didn't matter but only the rabbit. Only the approval or disapproval of a few select few. I enjoyed the chase a lot. Other people complained about school or academia in general. Sometimes I would complain a lot too. But secretly, deep down and all over, I loved it.

I loved the thrill of digging and running. I loved cornering the rabbit, getting so close to capturing him, and then letting him get away. I loved knowing that there was one area in my life that I always knew clearly what was expected of me, performed accordingly, and was rewarded accordingly. Many a happy hour was spent building nests, and stockpiling squirrels and other tasty morsels, and always chasing knowledge. Then one day it all stopped.

The rabbit had escaped. The people telling me how well I was doing, went away, or rather I left them. The burrow was dry and quiet. I felt for the first time, really truly claustrophobic. The rabbit hadn't escaped, I just couldn't see him any more, and now he was dangerous. I didn't know how to pursue him or what to do about him at all. Nobody was telling me how. Everywhere I turned, I found that I was afraid of him. I had to get out.

But then I realized I was already out. That was the whole problem. I froze behind Kafka's bush. I sat listening and waiting, my heart was pounding. I could hear noises from the tunnel... just a few feet away. I could go back!

But then I didn't. I just hopped away. There was whole new world to explore. I could evaluate myself. I could pursue other creatures. I didn't need the burrow or the white rabbit.

The End, sort of.

The World May Never Know

What goes on in my mind and life these days?

I am sneezing. A lot. Sneezing isn't entirely unpleasant.

I have an itch in my lower-left spleen. It's about a diameter from the egocenter of it's right-winged ventricle. What this means surmounts to an acute cake of wanderlust.

Paths will appear, as paths tend to do. I will follow one of them, or several of them, and that will make all the difference I am capable of making. Except, if I want to go offroading, which off course wouldst be strictly inadvertisable.

I'm also tired of listening to Jiminy Cricket, the flag, my Mom, and apple pie. Very tired.