29 2001 0 comments |
office supply: rubber finger tips
OK, make all the dirty jokes you want, but there's something I really like about these little nubbed fingertip covers. I don't know what, though -- I don't need them in my work, but I have one on my desk, just to play with.
29 2001 0 comments |
in cd player:Moby, play
my condition: trying to get into a regular sleep pattern - Daylight Savings Time change on Sunday will not help.
20 2001 0 comments |
Upon climbing the stairs, I realized that I wasn't living in an apartment, but instead on the bottom floor of a house! Upstairs, I found two bedrooms, an enormous bathroom, and a well-furnished kitchen. "Aha!" I thought to myself, "now I have room for an office, and Des can have space for all of her toys, and I have more room to cook!"
15 2001 0 comments |
in cd player: Fatboy Slim, you've come a long way baby"
my condition: a couple years ago I saw a video on VH1 of some people dancing in a mall to a kickass song.
Then I shut off my cable before finding out the source of the song, name of the song, or anything.
Since then, this video has been bouncing around in my head. I mentioned it to my brother, and he told me the source.
Now I'm jamming out to "Praise You", and my happiness has been fulfilled!
9 2001 0 comments |
The driver is probably in her 50s, but her overpowering wrinkles make her look much older. Her eyesockets are deep grey bowls with squinty eyes at the bottom. Years of trying to dye grey hairs into invisibility has turned her hair some strange hue, probably green, which she covers up with a Big-Birdish yellow. The driver takes a long drag off the cigarette dangling from her lips. Glowing ashes tumble into her lap, but she's too distracted by a frantic search through her purse and doesn't notice. Her extraordinarily
Watching her rummage through her belongings makes me snicker at first, but suddenly I have a flash of horror -- could that be ME several years down the road? No, it's not possible. Or - will I find myself someday pissed that I lost my tip card in my purse while on my way to have coffee with the girls? Will I be uncomfortable because my sagging breasts don't fit into my vintage-1978 bra anymore? How can I prevent my life from turning into an endless string of bingo games & watching talk shows while my husband dozes on the couch?
5 2001 0 comments |
Yesterday, actually. It's abstractual art, which forces the viewer to contribute to the whole before they get to see the whole. And -- there's never a finished project. The final output only exists until someone else clicks - and the only way someone can see the final product is by clicking.
My original concept was "create something which is altered by viewing it". I came up with it after looking at a bunch of 'online art' which is basically real-world art digitized - for as flexible as the internet is, there was no flexibility in the art I saw. Sure, some added 4th dimentionalism through hyperlinking or random pages via CGI programming, but the end result always ends up with the same big chunks being rearranged in a finite number of combinations. Compaint was designed to be something different: some computer input, some human input, combined into something new every time. To view it is to alter it. Every person on the internet also makes up the internet itself; every participant becomes a factor in the outcome, and that brainstorm was what I was trying to express with Compaint.
5 2001 0 comments |
activity: rearranging furniture
It's just so satisfying!
5 2001 0 comments |
Depth Takes a Holiday, by Sandra Tsing Loh