Lists

Thursday, 28 May 2009, 19:29 | Category : Uncategorized
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A List of All the Things I Am Worried About Right Now
May 28, 2009, 5:18 AM

My finances
The health of my reproductive organs
My ex’s finances
My boyfriend’s finances
My housemate’s finances
Which job offer to take
The perpetually oozing lump on my dog’s neck
Imposing on my housemate with friends over the weekend
The funny noise that my air filter is making right now
Dying old and alone because I am unable to have children

A List of All the Things I That Comfort Me Right Now
May 28, 2009, 5:20 AM

I’m deeply in love with the man of my dreams
My best friends are coming to visit me this weekend
Being involved in theater and producing my own work again
The many possibilities for artistic collaboration with aforementioned man of dreams
The presence of a loaf of great homemade bread in the kitchen
The newfound versatility of the word “poop”

Research Blog

Friday, 14 November 2008, 4:50 | Category : grad school
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I know, it sounds boring.  Far less interesting than reading about my real life, I’m sure, but I’m not living in "real" life right now - I’m deeply immersed in academia.

So, I can’t promise when I’ll be posting another "real life" blog entry - but if you’re just starving for my mental ramblings, you can head on over to my research blog to see what I’m reading, writing, and thinking about.

DANM Research Blog .

Eventually I’ll emerge and write another fascinating post about picking at my belly button, or something…

Permission to Make Bad Art

Tuesday, 21 October 2008, 9:07 | Category : grad school
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My cohort is planning a little 24 hour thesis activity this weekend, the idea being to conceive an MFA project, propose it, research it, prototype it, build it and exhibit it all between the hours of 10am Saturday and 10am Sunday (the process that we will actually go through over the next two years).  I really like this idea.  I think it’s brilliantly silly.  Too much "art" (I’m definitely guilty of this) has such a somber and serious tone.  I know I take my own bad self a little too seriously most of the time as an artist, so this weekend, I am going to give myself permission to make bad art.  Just to purely focus on collaboration and play and to enjoy the creative process.  To stop worrying so much about the social or otherwise relevance of the artistic end-product.

I’ll post the results and my thoughts about the process here when we’re done.

New-culer

Friday, 3 October 2008, 10:30 | Category : politics
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If you can’t pronounce the fucking word, your finger shouldn’t be anywhere near the button…

Enough said.

Constructing Myself

Tuesday, 23 September 2008, 8:22 | Category : grad school, identity, social anxiety
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Going back to grad school is a weird process.  I really like the people in my cohort (hey there gang, if you’re reading this), and yet, at the same time, it has been a strange process to construct an identity by going back over all the Things I’ve Done Over the Years that fall under the “art” category, and then trying to tell people about these things without sounding either Way Too Pretentious or Not Cool Enough.  I’m pretty sure we all constantly do this as we negotiate relationships and the world, hedging our bets while checking each other out, trying to sound like we’re competent but not bragging like fools.  It’s a sheepish process, telling people where you’ve been and “who you are,” and it’s one of my common social anxieties.  After I’m done writing an artistic bio, I always feel a bit like I’ve been talking in a room full of people with my fly down (did they see?  are they all laughing at me?).  I think those common insecurities and inner thoughts we must all have when negotiating new relationships are the basis for a lot of the best observational style comedy bits.  How can you be confident about your mad skills and abilities (as you need to be in order to market yourself as an artist), and yet not come across sounding like some sort of pompous ass?  I’m not sure I’ve figured that one out.  Please, somebody tell me if I sound ridiculous when I describe myself or show my work.  I really don’t want to produce the verbal equivalent of a downed-fly.

Lost Positives #1

Saturday, 30 August 2008, 18:38 | Category : grammer, humor, language
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The clement weather had me feeling rather chalant.  I was downright combobulated.  Feeling rather kempt and not in the least bit sheveled, I eptly climbed into my provertible and proceded in my lentless pursuit of more lost positives…

To be continued…

Literal Navel Gazing

Tuesday, 26 August 2008, 12:12 | Category : amusing medical consequences, belly button, obsession, science
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Every once in a while, I become obsessed with the contents of my belly button. For some reason, once every blue moon I decide that I absolutely must go spelunking in there, first with a fingernail, then with a Q-Tip, finally with some tweezers or some other semi-sharp implement. This never ends well. First of all, the poking always pisses the tender skin in there off to no end, until it’s red and swollen and itching and I’m sure I’ve given myself some horrible infection or reopened the prenatal passage into my intestines or wherever that thing once led. And once I’m in there a bit, there’s the “something blackish” to contend with, that thing in there that I can just barely glimpse if I pull back the skin to the point of extreme irritation. It would be okay, quite satisfying really, if I could extract it, but I can never, no matter how I delve, get at the damn thing. I’m convinced that this must be some remnant of my original belly cord - you know, that gross little plug that hangs from a baby tummy like a cat turd for about a month after birth, and then falls off. Well, I think part of mine fell in, because when I get to poking around in there I can see something that looks kinds of alien. Whatever it is, it’s not quite right, I can tell you that. Sometimes I think that maybe it isn’t belly cord at all, but some sort of blackened twin that I didn’t quite absorb. Anyhow, it’s weird, and it’s in there, and I can’t get at it. This knowledge has been known to keep me up at night.

But the most disturbing thing about this activity of belly button delving is that it’s a gateway obsession. I go very quickly from dwelling on the blackened navel thingy to dwelling on all the other weird little things that dwell on and in us. Bacteria. Viruses. The tiny parasitic mites that live in our eyelashes. In our EYELASHES, for fuck’s sake. That’s not right. And you can’t get at them either. Like the contents of my navel, I can’t tweeze them away, so why bother knowing about them at all? I mean, I love science and all, but there are times, and this is one of them, that I think science should leave well enough alone. I am absolutely all for a good evolutionary theory, thank you very much. But do we really need pictures like this to keep us up at night?

Yurgh. That’s the little guy, one of thousands, that lives in your eyelashes. It’s in there breeding. Right now. Making thousands more in the time it takes you to text your BFF. Sleep tight!

Dialtones (A Telesymphony)

Sunday, 3 August 2008, 11:26 | Category : Uncategorized, music, sound art, video, youtube
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I’ve been thinking a lot (in preparation for grad school) about incorporating everyday sound into music and locative art.  One of the problems that I have with traditional sound art, or even with popular music and the way it is peformed (standard "four guys and a wall" configuration, blasting out of speakers at full volume) is that it tends to be pretty flat , almost two-dimensional in its regularity.  I’ve been thinking about placing sound out in the audience (or out in the world, for that matter), making the whole thing interactive, using common everyday objects to compose, and trying to create something that feels more three dimensional.

To this effect, one of the smartest and most fascinating projects I’ve seen is "Dialtones (A Telesympony)" .  I love the idea of involving the audience, and it’s got an edge of humor and weirdness to it that I find really appealing. Check it out:

Remodeling

Tuesday, 22 July 2008, 3:19 | Category : Uncategorized
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I’m a state of remodeling right now - house, brain, and blog are all in the process of having the cobwebs blown out of the rafters. So, stand by for a new “Brain Can Hold” as I transition from bitter working clerical stiff to (hopefully less bitter) grad student. With the new blog I hope to raise some interesting philosophical discussions about art and life (don’t we all), to feature regular new fiction (another goal for the coming year is to keep writing), and to spread sick humor and much laughter in my wake.

The goal is to start the new blog on September 1st. In the meantime, I highly recommend you check out those there blogs that are listed over to the right, there, as ways to entertain yourself in the blog-o-verse over the summer.

Until then, two readers,

Me

Fiction: “A Few Instructions”

Thursday, 10 July 2008, 1:14 | Category : fiction, writing
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When you move to your new neighborhood, be sure to spend a few nights observing your new neighbors quietly.  Sit out on the stoop, or on the porch, or in your front window.  Smoke your Cools and drink some whiskey.  Have a beer.  Thumb through a stack of discarded magazines.  Case the folks.  See if you can tell who keeps a gun in a beside table, who stockpiles rice and dried beans in the basement, who will know how to handle an ax when the time comes.  These are the people you will be surrounded by when Armageddon happens.  These are the people who will be your tribe when the shit hits the fan.

Take a few weeks to feel them out, your new neighbors, your once and future tribe.  Find out who is given to easy temper over minor issues.  Hope that it is not the person who owns the gun, although the odds are good that it will be.  Find out who has a sick or elderly family member, who is attached to a cat or some other type of useless, inedible animal.  Find out who exhibits true calm in the eye of a storm.  This person will be your leader when the time comes (most likely, yes, it will be you).  Find out where the smallest children are living, and pay your respects to their mothers.  They are the ones who will come out all rage at the end, protecting their little ones like bears protecting their cubs.  These mothers are the people who will be the most likely to fuck your shit up.  Tip the brim of your ball cap to them now, and be sure to smile.

Take walks.  Take a lot of walks, morning, noon, and night.  Figure out the boundaries of your neighborhood.  Find the natural barriers.  Where is the tall fence with the razor wire at the top?  Where is the concrete ditch, deep with dark water? Where are the back alleys, the dead ends, the easy places to lure and trap men and rats?  Locate the tallest building, find the best vantage point.  Where is the window that will provide you with the best shot, a chance at seeing without being seen?  Where is the pane that will reflect the night like an empty eye, shielding you from view?

As you walk, observe the others who are walking.  Take note of anyone who looks up, who nods or smiles or meets your eye.  Find out who is a morning person, who is up before dawn, who sleeps until noon, who is up all night.  Find the dealer and check his routine out, but keep your distance.  Right now, he is dangerous, a young lion in the midst of a herd of easy gazelle.  But when his shit runs out, he will be the first one to go, the first one to make a move that will get him killed.  You want to know his routine because when the end comes, you want to be as far away from this asshole as possible.

Think up a rating system to help you keep track of useful people, the ones you will want in your inner circle.  Give the chica who leaves her pad every night in scrubs a high rating.  She will know how to stitch your ass back together after a fight, and where to find the good antibiotics.  Give her bonus points too, because she is hot.  You can work on her first, when the time comes to repopulate the world.  Give the old guy behind the counter at the liquor store a high rating too.  He gives you a tough-as-shit look every time you walk into his joint, and you know that even with twenty years on you, he is an old warrior who could easily take you in a fight.  Give a high rating to the kid with the nervous eyes and the sparse mustache.  He can lift a stereo in broad daylight, slip a wallet right out of man’s front pocket.  Give him a high number, but remind yourself that you will need to keep an eye on him.  He can’t be trusted, any more than you can.

Now you know your neighborhood.  You know who will be the hunted and who will be doing the hunting, when the time comes.  You know your people, and you can visualize your hunting ground.  You can relax just a little now.  Enjoy the petroleum and fire fed sunsets.  Listen to the sirens and the helicopters and the horns in the distance, to the noise of the end of the world building.  Smoke your Cools and sip your beer and slide your Jack down, easy.  Know that the end will come soon enough and that when it does, you will be the one on top.