the shoulder helper(s?)
whispered commands from left and right
litter! no, recycle!
Three weeks goes fast when you're writing creatively during a three week interim writing course. It was fun and went very well. It was an incredibly comfortable class which provided a safe environment to explore the creative side we were all able to get to show and share.
There's so much that can be done with the web, it's where it's at. With a dollop of creativity and some technical skill wonderfully new expressions of the mind can be constructed, and widely shared with ease. Creative web projects and development are going to be a primary focus for me moving forward. On my radar are maps, interactivity, animation, audio and video combined with text: multi-mixed-media. This along with making a good personal website.
I'll miss coming to class (a few minutes late each day, on average) and writing, responding, hearing stories from the class, reading and creating. And little Baby Quack Quack, who now happily resides at Tenny park. And tales of kidnapped students. Oh my.
Thanks John for a great class and to all of my classmates. To the future. Maybe I can make something of that 'cream cheese in a tube' idea. Have a great summer.
Additionally: I added a few small things recently:
This is me, waving. I got that trick down a long time ago.
If you'd like a video taken in class yourself or a good quality audio recording, just let me know!
Sonnet 29
William Shakespeare
When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon my self and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least,
Yet in these thoughts my self almost despising,
Haply I think of thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate,
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
For years so quiet
Why doesn't he talk at all?
Nothing nice to say
Note: This is my final poem if its the better poem.
such wide gaps
counting the rings
many man-y years
between them
rough, stone-y wood
provides
and hides
pointed pain
fallen first
then to pieces
shiny shards (but only later)
down the cheeks
a trip out West
a solid shell preserved
a state carelessly deserved
a fallen forest
past that misnamed Canyon
(Photo can't be found)
It settled quickly, with wisps of wind carrying the particles from place to place. Coming up from the basement Leroy could see out the front window. Everything, the driveway, the lawn, the street, the sidewalk, even the roof, was completely covered with the substance. It looked like a light, fluffy blanket of snow but he knew it was nothing of the sort. If any one thing, it was closer to dust.
The device was conceptually quite simple. Any competent engineer could design such a device, if they had a reason to. It was, after all, basically just a microwave, except instead of being contained and calibrated to violently vibrate water molecules in food, it was directed outward and tuned to the frequency that would rip proteins and DNA apart. Everything alive was built from these tiny pieces, and depended wholly on them. That connection between all life was the key. Of course, something on such a large scale would take a lot of work, and it did. For years he carefully researched and tested, looking for anything that might prevent him from completing his task. But he never found any technical reason why it shouldn't work as he first envisioned it. He knew to accomplish his task would require an enormous amount of energy. For months now he had been storing the power from the electrical grid in a large bank of capacitors which filled the whole of his large basement, along with the emitter itself. The basement was the selling point three years ago when he bought the house, just what he needed.
He walked outside, grabbing an umbrella that was by the door. He wanted to see what he had done. He had to admit, it sure appeared remarkably like snow, even reminding him of playing in it as a boy. But it would not melt, although in time it would slowly disappear, taken away by the wind. It would have been an excellent fertilizer for the seeds that no longer could sprout. The distinctive crunch of snow was absent with each step, it made no noise at all as he packed it down with his boots. He'd walked only a few blocks down along the sidewalk when he noticed that his umbrella was getting harder to hold. The stuff was beginning to cover his umbrella and had an unusual stickiness to it, not easily shaken off. He had walked far enough though, coming to a stop along the sidewalk, peering out and all around his barren landscape.
He had always felt as empty as the world around him would now be. With one final triggering of the emitter he too would be gone, but that would hardly be a change for him. He thought about sticking around, at least for a bit. Naturally there were things he could do: catch up on his list of books to read, watch the movies he'd missed, write some short stories he never got around to. If only he wasn't so weary. No, he thought, better to end it now. With one little push of the remote trigger the device was activated. And thus he became the last warm heap, sheltered under his fallen umbrella.
My game
Good timing. I was nearing the last level. Sheesh Dad! I guess I could pause the Zelda game and return right away after I saw what he wanted.
"Michael, get down here!"
I suppose I had a minute, but only a minute. As long as it was quick, and as long as they knew that. Damn it's bright out, now my eyes are going to be all screwed up, I won't be able to see. That's why I close the curtains so not an inch of light gets in.
"Would you grab the camera and take a picture? Get all of us in it."
Okay, I suppose I could do that. I ran upstairs and got the camera, opening it and turning it on so it was ready to go.
"You know, it would be nice if you helped a bit." I easily ignored that request.
I took a panoramic shot of my parents and brother tearing up the sod. They were working on putting in a golf green in the north part of our spacious backyard. That certainly wasn't my bright, time-consuming idea. I wasn't even into golf. No, if Matt wanted a green he could do all the work himself. I'm sure he'll put in a tee-off area as well, just wait. And now the sled hill would be ruined. Besides I was busy, I have my own stuff to do and I wasn't going to be bothered. I had a video game to finish.
