i received a letter from Mardou last night detailing her weekend: the first one, the last one, and all the ones that might be the next one. but this is beside the point.
the point is that each of us is a mystery, even to our own selves, and if i listen closely i can hear a chorus of six billion people asking "who am i?" in untold languages, in countless ways.
it's beautiful.
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throwing art into the void
- circles... all the way down
- This venue serves as both medium and laboratory, an attempt to examine the shape of nostalgia and experiment with the contours of memory.
concentric circles
whatcha lookin' for?
"time is a scam"
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2008
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October
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- trick or treat
- "a mix CD is like making out in the parking lot"
- "digging for a fire"
- self-referential much?
- the wee hours
- a matter of timing
- somnolist says what?
- good, better, best
- a lack of planning
- before class
- an act of super-genius, revisted
- the windows came open
- rediscovery
- juggling, part deux
- i told her:
- a letter
- it could have been Paris
- the important thing is...
- cultural studies grudge match
- 12-12-2012 minus 12
- the balance between ease and effort
- paradigm, syntagm and value
- how to start your day?
- "la cienega just smiled"
- déjà vu
- it's after midnight
- what difference does it make?
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October
(27)
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