Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Saturday, October 22, 2005
for all of my fans... here's my fall term schedule:
fundamentals of acting - sam hull
intro to editing - john campbell
intermediate camera and lighting - dan ackerman (dear friend lavalier is in this class, we rock!)
fundamentals of scriptwriting.
maybe that's why i'm busy?
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
facsimilie heart
Friday, September 23, 2005
to be or not to.
The air came abuzz with the noise of the crowd. "Someone’s coming out!" came a shout from the top of the concrete steps. All of the reporters and photographers jockeyed for position. Alexis grabbed Al, her cameraman, and pushed as far to the front as she could get in the sea of humanity. The ruthless point of an elbow nearly knocked the wind out of her. She straightened, grim determination etched on her pretty features. This was her chance to prove herself. A man in a dark suit, his striped tie disheveled, pushed his way through the heavy glass doors. "We have no comment at this time." he said. Then he smiled and waved for the cameras as he hurriedly retreated and shut the mammoth doors behind him. A clamor of disappointment washed through the mob. Alexis was afraid of losing her ground, but her need for oxygen won out. She moved a few steps away from the teeming hot mass and inhaled fresh air as if she were getting ready for a deep-sea dive. Al asked her how she was doing and she produced a wan smile for his benefit. "I’ve been better. I wish we at least knew what all this craziness was about!" She had been listening intently to the hushed conversations swirling around her, but they all seemed about as clueless as she did.
After about forty-five minutes of standing around and intermittent bantering with the anchors at the station Alexis was about ready to throw in the towel job or no job. She had promised her niece that she would go to her schools play tonight and if something didn’t break soon she was going to be late or miss it altogether. She could feel her blood pressure rising and had to step away. She told Al to call her on her cell if he saw or heard any commotion, even the smallest stir. She walked around to the back of the building where the parking lot was and sat on the curb. She put her head between her knees and played with some loose gravel that was scattered on the cracked cement. She heard a door open, but held her position. A man’s voice interrupted her reverie, "Are you okay?" he said. Alexis looked up to see a man with a file box filled with picture frames and random office supplies. "Uh, yes. Thanks… Do you happen to know what all the commotion out front is about?" she said hopefully. The man grimaced. "Yeah, that’s why I’m headed out the back door." Alexis snatched her cell phone from her pocket and pressed the speed dial number for Al. "Al, I’m in the parking lot behind the building. Get over here now!" She slid her phone back into her pocket. "Hi, I’m Alexis Weaver from channel 8 news and it would mean a lot to me if you would let me interview you." The man looked like he was about to bolt as Al rounded the corner with his camera gear. He hesitated, " I guess… well, I’m fired so what can they do to me now?"
"This is Alexis Weaver from Channel 8 News and we are live from the back parking lot of the Braithwaite Corporation. I’m interviewing Paul Jones who was terminated just one hour ago for eating two pieces of pizza."
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
story time, again
He used to take his dad’s guns out for target practice in the woods behind the park. The guns made him feel powerful. One time when he was back there blowing beer cans to smithereens he almost got caught by the owner of the trailer park.
He was a mean old cuss. He lived in a big house down the road around a corner so that he wouldn’t have to see the crooked rows of dilapidated singlewides. He had a boy that was about the same age as the gunslinger from the trailer park. At least the same age in numbers. He had everything he could ask for and more.
It was a Tuesday. Nothing good ever happened on a Tuesday. Nothing good ever happened on any other day either. His dad remembered to lock the gun cabinet last time he used it, but forgot to put the pistol away before he did. But there was no ammo; there would be no smell of gunpowder today. No feel of hot steel burning his palms. He would have to imagine that he was blowing his enemies to small bits.
The boy who had everything just got a little more than everything. His dad gave him a brand new BMX bike for his birthday. The kind that had pegs and shocks and all that stuff the tricked out bikes were guaranteed to have. One of his favorite things to do was to flaunt his good fortune in the face of the park-rats. That’s what his family called the trailer park kids. It was Tuesday and seemed like as good a day as any other to show off his new bike.
The park-rat, expertly handling his dad’s pistol, was skulking through the brush near the river at the edge of the woods behind the trailer park spying on imaginary enemies. A real enemy came into range. He’s riding another new bike. He’s got another new expensive toy. As the shiny bike and moneyed rider came into close range the park-rat jumped out of the brush and aimed his pistol straight at the offender. He shouted at the boy to get off and hand over his bike. The boy did as he was commanded. The park-rat shoved him to the ground and took the beloved bike. He had never even touched anything so nice. Had never been so close to such perfection. He kept one hand on the glistening handlebars and one hand pointing the pistol at the boy on the ground. He got on the bike, cocked the pistol, and started riding away. He turned and pulled the trigger, there wasn’t any ammo in it anyway and he wanted to see the look on the rich boys face. That would be almost as good as having a brand new BMX bike. At least for a minute. A blast of smoke, the gun recoiled, the park-rat fell off of his stolen goods. The bullet just missed the crying boy’s head. The park-rat ran and threw his dad’s pistol into the river and wondered if he could make it to Mexico.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
alternate correspondance...
m'kay. weird. i know.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
i know, i know - you've all missed me!
Thursday, July 28, 2005
top five childhood memories, or at least five memories that i remember
If you don't follow the rules, it's over.
Rules:
Remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump every one up one place; add your blog's name in the #5 spot; link to each of the other blogs.
1. crashmebabyonemoretime
2. emtotheizo
3. reesarick
4. lavalier
5. gretaseacat
5 things that I miss from childhood
1. riding big wheels down the sidewalk and then bicycles and playing CHiPS and arguing over who got to be bonnie because there was two girls in the bicycle gang.
2. my lincoln logs. they were the best toy ever.
3. going to the beach with the swensons, going to the beach with youth group, going to the beach with my family, going to the beach with my invisible friend.
4. one more thing about the beach... family camp at ft. stevens. i miss that a lot.
5. lots of broken wooden spoons... oh wait, i don't miss that. or the being grounded for half of my life. i do miss not having to pay bills and find places to live and not having to work. can someone adopt me, please?!
NEXT UP...
leela
janaki
adam
du-reet
Thursday, July 14, 2005
honk if you're elvis
please don't be mad at me for posting it. i kind of think it's funny kind of maybe or not. but i wrote it!
my blue shoes
they are not suede
if they were
i would have it made
the buckles aren't shiny
but the soles aren't worn
i haven't had them since the day i was born
the blue so bright
the blue so new
oh blue shoes i think i love you!
i won't post the non-restrictive poem because it's too good - you might cry
Friday, July 08, 2005
bad toad bad toad
Monday, June 27, 2005
yum
let me count the ways
or how about jesus on tbn... he always has a british accent.
Friday, June 24, 2005
i can't remember
i had these mind boggling thoughts
that would have... boggled your mind
had i remembered them long enough to write
them in this here blog. is this to be the remainder of
my existence? to always be trying to remember the genius
thoughts that i had. the loss of memory lacquers the sheen of intelligence
over the forgotten memories so that you feel as though you are smarter than you really
are.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
in just three easy steps!
scene
Monday, May 30, 2005
international espionage
Thursday, May 26, 2005
i'm so flippin lazy!
B- Band you are listening to right now: none, i am so boring
C- Crush: teachers (ha)
D- Dad's name: Terry
E- Easiest person to talk to: Heather
F- Favorite ice cream: chocolate mint cooke (b&j's)
G- Gummy worms or gummy bears?: chocolate covered gummy Bears
H- Hometown: portland oregon
I- Instruments: guitar
J- Junior high: heritage christian school and la pine
K- Kids: hopefully before i'm too old
L- Longest car ride ever: from here to bryce canyon utah or russleville arkansas to new orleans louisiana. not sure which is longer and i don't feel like checking.
M- Mom's name: debbie
N- Nicknames: superstar
O- One wish: rich husband with french or british accent and good teeth
P- Phobia[s]: claustrophobia? fearophobia, i don't know
Q- Quote: "wherever you go there you are" buckaroo bonzai
R- Reason to smile: the sun has not exploded into a supernova
S- Song you sang last: quick make something up... i think it was the song about the ten page pornography paper...
T- Time you woke up today: like before daylight when the stupid garbage men came
U- Unknown fact about me: i'm not as smart as i look
V- Vegetable[s] you hate: lima beans
W- Worst habit: procrastinating - yes! and checking my email 500 times, is that procrastinating or wishful thinking?
X- X-rays you've had: mouth
Y - Years since you've been to church?: i was there last week
Z- Zodiac sign: i hate zodiac, we're in a fight
Sunday, May 22, 2005
fo shizzzzel
Your Inner Gangsta by crash_and_burn | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
What is yo name? | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Yo gangsta name be | Cracka Jack Snappa | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
You ride around in a | Neon Pink H2 Hummer | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Yo gang | Slim Shady's Pink Ladies | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Yo shoes be | Stiletto heels | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Yo dubs be dis big, fool | 3,577 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
How much money you got? | $4.6809335580809e+26 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Quiz created with MemeGen! |
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
i heart oak lodge uniforms
Sunday, May 08, 2005
don't take the screw out
Monday, May 02, 2005
antiques roadshow for real
Saturday, April 30, 2005
vertigo
pants.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
mary
Saturday, April 23, 2005
or just crazy?
is it synthesis when you open the cupboard to find a glass to pour your orangina in and you pick the blue one because it's a complementary color? or have i lost my mind irrevocably?
Friday, April 22, 2005
get your own tots
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Sunday, April 17, 2005
therefore i am
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
twisty
classes are; pre-college math = i don't speak the language storyboarding = drawing is torturous, but have a lovely teacher argumentation and research = will kick my behind, very much color theory = will be interesting, not sure yet intro to video = i love, love, love, love, love, co!
the end.
Friday, March 25, 2005
nevermind
Thursday, March 24, 2005
fire walk with me or something
it's really weird to not have homework. i can just watch the first season of twin peaks that i got at the library (love the library!) for hours on end. until it's over and then i need to get the second season...
we screened all the senior films at the hollywood last night. it was pretty fun. my name was up on the big screen. it was tight fo sho.
oh yes, since you are dying to know - i finished my paper, but if you want to read it in it's entirety you will have to send in a formal request.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
because i know you were so waiting for this.... here is the first half of my paper!
In this essay I will discuss the psychoanalytic approach to art interpretation; including the idea psychoanalysis has of the artist and artistic production, the basis for interpreting the meaning of works of art, and the relationship between art and psychoanalysis. I will be using Freud’s essays entitled “Jensen’s Gradiva,” “The Moses of Michelangelo,” and “The Uncanny” to help illustrate these relationships.
Sigmund Freud came up with the very idea that there is an unconscious motivation for artistic creation. Freud was committed to understanding and interpreting art and his view of art interpretation was to give meaning to the work of art itself, as well as figuring out why the viewer of the art was moved or affected by that particular work. The answer he came up with was that the work of art somehow connected with the viewers’ unconscious and caused some kind of emotional stirring. The essays that he wrote about art were written as illustrations for his theories. (Writings on Art and Literature, xi)
(abridged version)
Monday, March 21, 2005
panoramic
i had to draw this for my drawing final.
i like to take pictures way better than drawing.
btw - drawing was last term. i'm still bitter.
but guess what - i had photography this term and you wanna know what we had to do jimmy? we had to draw a picture of what we were going to photograph before we could take the picture. is that some kind of sick joke?!
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
not a problem
drawing on "jensen's gradiva," "the moses of michelangelo," and "the uncanny," discuss the freudian/psychoanalytic approach to art interpretation. in the course of addressing this issue, consider, for example, the idea psychoanalysis has of the artist and artistic production, the basis for interpreting the meaning of works of art, the relationship between art and psychoanalysis, and/or the reason freud chooses to focus on specific works of art/artists. of the three essays, 'the uncanny' is peculiar for a number of reasons: discuss the essay and the manner in which it relates to freud's general approach to and interpretation of art.
what time is it????
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
what tree?
Sunday, February 13, 2005
what the crazy?
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
have your people call my people
Sunday, February 06, 2005
campbell's soup is mmm mmm good
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
It's so basic
it's too early to read this! maybe I'll try again after food.
Monday, January 31, 2005
Friday, January 28, 2005
how you like me now, holmes?
You Are 22 Years Old |
22 Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax. |