So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
Ethnicity. that of my father and his father before him
Location Cherry Hills Vil, CO
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The Link To Zanzibar's Past
This is my page in the beloved art community that my sister got me into:
Extra points for people who know what Samarinda is.
The Phases of the Moon Module
The Tree and the Telephone Pole
I Do Not Know Their Names
Today I am Young
A Night Poem
Siren of the Sea
If I Were a Dragon
To the Dreamers Leave the Sky
The Honor of the Oyster
Return From San Diego
A Late Summer's Night
Of Dragons and Men
The Edge of the World
The Snake's Terror
Metaphysics and the Middaymoon
Of Adventures in Foreign Lands
The Rogue Wave: The Unedited Version
Adventures in the PRC
Voyage of Discovery
Drinking the Blood of Goats
Ticket for a Phantom Bus
Os peixes nadam o mar
Three Villages Far Away
The River Weser
Children I Should Have Kidnapped, Part I
Let's Get You Out of Those Clothes
If Underwear Could Speak
Croc Hunter/Combat Wombat
Only My Favorite Baseball Player EVER
Aw, Larry Walker, how I loved thee.
M: Science and Exploration
T: Cook a nice dinner
Th: Parties, movies, dinners
F: Picnics, the Louvre
S: Read books, go for walks, PARKOUR
Su: Philosophy, Religion
The Reading List
This list starts Summer 2006
A Crocodile on the Sandbank
Tales of the Alhambra (in progress)
Dark Lord of Derkholm
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
The Lost Years of Merlin
Harry Potter a l'ecole des sorciers (in progress)
Atlas Shrugged (in progress)
A Long Way Gone (story of a boy soldier in Sierra Leone- met the author! w00t!)
The Eye of the World: Book One of the Wheel of Time
From Magma to Tephra (in progress)
Lady Chatterley's Lover
Harry Potter 7
The No. 1 Lady's Detective Agency
Introduction to Planetary Volcanism
A Child Called "It"
Is Multi-Culturalism Bad for Women?
Americans in Southeast Asia: Roots of Commitment (in progress)
What's So Great About Christianity?
Aeolian Dust and Dust Deposits
The City of Ember
The People of Sparks
When I was in Cuba, I was a German Shepard
The Golden Compass
Clan of the Cave Bear
The 9/11 Commission Report (2nd time through, graphic novel format this time, ip)
The Incredible Shrinking Man
The Elves of Cintra
The Gypsy Morph
Animorphs #23: The Pretender
Animorphs #25: The Extreme
Animorphs #26: The Attack
A Journey to the Center of the Earth
A Great and Terrible Beauty
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian
To Sir, With Love
Alice in Wonderland
Through the Looking Glass
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea
The Hunger Games
Shadows and Strongholds
The Jungle Book
Beatrice and Virgil
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks
No One Ever Told Us We Were Defeated
The Name of the Wind
Tao Te Ching
What Paul Meant
Lao Tzu and Taoism
Sand and Sandstones
Lost Christianites: The Battles for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew
The Science of God
Great Contemporaries, by Winston Churchill
City of Bones
Around the World in 80 Days, by Jules Verne
Stranger in a Strange Land
The Old Man and the Sea
Flowers for Algernon
Au Bonheur des Ogres
The Road to Serfdom
De La Terre à la Lune (ip)
In the Light of What We Know
Devil in the White City
The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August
How to Be a Good Wife
A Mote in God's Eye
want to read: Last Hunger Games Book, Honeybee Democracy, The Bell Jar
Coral With Envy
Sunday. 10.28.07 4:36 pm
"Remember what we talked about-- please don't indicate that you can speak or that you can understand them, it's very important. Besides, it would terrify them, quite likely! What a scene!" The towel was walking two paces ahead, throwing words carelessly backwards at her charge.
"Well there I go," continued the towel, "I'm chattering like a sheet! Let's go see who will clothe you for the time being. She bustled into the next room, where a dozen dresses were lounging over the backs of chairs and hanging aloofly from hangers that were precariously balanced on the top of a slightly ajar closet door.
"Ladies," said the towel sharply. Nothing moved.
"Ladies!!" With speed that belied her thickness and generous thread-count, she towel-whipped the nearest dress with a loud crack. There was a wail of dismay, particularly from the target of the snap, but the dresses slowly roused themselves from their chairs and hangers. She was slowly becoming more accustomed to talking and moving clothing, but it was still a wondrous sight to behold. So many dresses, each lovely and unique, ballooned from flat, lifeless cloth to full and splendid form as they gathered around Madame Towelle. How could something be made of such delicate fabric and still have enough strength to stand up straight? It was a silly question, as the same could be said for any but the starchiest of the clothes she had encountered so far.
"Now," said Mme Towelle officiously, "Which of you would like to clothe this human being to the function tonight."
"You had to choose the most awkward-looking human you could find." commented a slim, elegant -looking green dress sourly.
Despite Mme Towelle's warning, her pleasant smile slipped a notch towards a frown.
"Not me!" chimed in a short sun dress. "Its legs are much too long for my hem. I would look ridiculous!"
"Now, now, you haven't even tried it on yet!" clucked the towel. "How about you, dear." The towel gesturing to a lovely peach frock with embroidered straps. She felt a twinge of excitement in her stomach. Perhaps she wouldn't mind dressing up in a silly dress after all if it were one like that!
"You must be joking," the dress retorted, "I wouldn't be caught dead on that."
This routine countined for a little while longer, much to her growing annoyance. According to the dresses, she was too thin, too tall, and too old-fashioned-looking. The few who volunteered to be tried on said that her skin color didn't match anything, that her bust failed to fill them out properly and she hunched her shoulders. One of them actually said that they might consider clothing her if something could be done for the "stupid-looking" expression on her face.
She was getting a bit angry. After all, they were so picky-- it was a wonder they ever found anyone to wear them at all. Perhaps they would just prefer to be on their hangers all the time! Besides, it was THEY who were too loose and too short and too big around the bust. She wanted to shout out at them, to tell them that she could hear everything they were saying and that she appreciated none of it. What a surprise that would be for them indeed! She was about to throw in the towel, perhaps very literally, when a lovely blue satin frock glided in from the far side of the room with several plain grey dresses at its shoulders.
"What is happening?" it asked in a pleasant voice, like a song.
"Madame Towel wants one of us to clothe this ridiculous thing to the function tonight," said the emerald dress with a snort. "You should really put a wager on it, Mme, perhaps then you'll get some volunteers."
The blue satin frock took her wrist in its gossamer sleeve and seemed to examine her. It raised her arm and twirled her around.
"Why, it's not hideous after all." the dress said, almost to itself. It lifted her other arm and then settled itself over her head in a delicate movement, lacing itself up the back as it went. When her head appeared through the embroidered neck of the dress, she was astonished. A shimmering blue wrap that had accompanied the frock took down her hair from its rubber band and arranged it neatly around her shoulders before arranging itself around her shoulders as well. The dress fit her perfectly. Standing there in the mirror was an elegant young woman where a rough and tumble young girl had stood only a moment ago. Even the chattering dresses fell silent as the blue frock spun her around in front of the mirror and a million shattered bits of light reflected from its sparkles skittered about the room.
It seemed as if no one knew what to say for a moment, until finally a coral-colored dress grumbled, "Some clothes can make anything look good."
The room emptied rather quickly after that, until the last dress rustled out of the room and unhooked the empty hangers from the top of the closet door before firmly shutting it behind it. Only the blue dress, wrap, Mme Towelle, and the terrycloth robe she had been wearing remained. The robe had its cuff poised thoughtfully at its non-existent chin.
"My,my," it said in its country drawl, "That does look awfully nice."
The Bones Have Escaped
Sunday. 10.28.07 1:39 am
I would write a real entry but I'm stealing time on my roommate's boyfriend's computer while they're asleep because my computer has a virus and the fan might be broken and the power cord frayed in half and I haven't gotten a new one yet but the computer ran out of battery power. Also my roommate's computer can't get the internet at the moment for some reason. And the cat is trying to sleep poor dear but she doesn't like the light. She's trying to put her whole head under her leg so the light won't shine in her eyes. Right now there are all these real human bones lying around in the living room because my roommate (Thalweg)'s boyfriend (g-bird) is in medical school. The bones have been sitting in this tackle box in the corner of the room for weeks and I guess they finally escaped. We apparently have a femur and half a pelvis and a coccyx on the coffee table. The rest haven't escaped from the tackle box yet. Good thing we don't have dogs.
And my beloved Rockies... I stayed up til 1 in the morning for what? Well, now it's ten to 2. It's ok, this way we'll just take them all the way to game 7. Right? Right? Those Red Sox are just a bunch of sneering bullies with crass accents anyway. :\
If only we still had Larry Walker.
What I Shall Do Tonight
Friday. 10.26.07 6:02 pm
So I was totally overwhelmed by work the other day and I was making a list of things I had to do.... so... what better way to tackle your work than by wasting time writing a poem?!
Eat! Eat! My stomach grumbles, Think of the meals youâ€™ve missed!
Ah, yes, food, thatâ€™s right, it was seventh on my list
But sleep! Sleep! Please get some sleep! My body weakly cries
It anchors a fuzzy floating feeling with weights hung round my eyes.
Run! Run! My nervous, tapping legs require
The movement vetoed by my lungs who have nothing further to expire
Plan! Plan! I must plan, I must organize my mind.
But Work! Work! I first must work, for Iâ€™m already so behind.
And Love, Love. That sweet thing Love, I have no time for you--
But Love is the one strong clear voice that neglect cannot subdue!
So logically I prioritize, and carefully I craft
But Love sets my weary mind adrift like a little wooden raft
And swept along by lovelorne song, who knows where or when it will alight
And still Iâ€™ve not decided how I shall spend my time tonight.
Thursday. 10.25.07 4:23 pm
Oh man. I'm so miserable today. ughnnnn.... the Rockies were slaughtered. The weather sucks. I'm sick as can be. I feel like my internal organs are going to explode. I must have the worst immune system in history*. I took a midterm... that was probably the highlight of my day. My advisor sent me a half-encouraging, half-snarky email, which bounced back because my email was full, so he had his secretary print it and put it in my box. I have to do two fluid mechanics homeworks tonight in order to make up for last week, and I'm supposed to go with my friend to buy my Halloween costume, which I'll probably never get to wear...
Because I'll probably be dead by then.
Let's exchange "probably" with "hopefully".
*not counting hundreds of millions of people including people with AIDS
I'm back in Providence
Tuesday. 10.23.07 7:31 am
On the way home on the airplane I sat next to a man who seemed to have a lovely wife and horrific grandchildren. He had just finished a grand tour of Europe, including several cruises around the Baltic and the Mediterranean.
He was an electrical engineer (well, he was before he retired, and he's been retired for a while). He graduated from UDubb, and then moved down to Arizona in 1965 because his wife had gotten a job there. She might have been his wife at the time but I'm not sure. She was sitting across the aisle because they both wanted aisle seats. He packed all his stuff in his car and drove down over a weekend, having no idea what he was going to do when he got there. On Monday he went and got an interview, interviewed that day, and went to his first day of work on Tuesday. The rest, as they say, is history.
Sunday. 10.14.07 3:48 pm
Je suis in Paris maintenant. Je travaille.
On the way over I sat next to this pencil-thin girl from Eastern Europe (not really, she and her parents moved to Connecticut when she was a little girl). Then she went to Brown University as an undergraduate (pre-med). She graduated pre-med then took a year off before medical school when she worked in a lab in Chicago. In Chicago she got into the art scene, and she ended up going to school for sculpture and media visual arts. Many of her projects have focused on the similarity between many city systems and the systems of the body. While she was getting her MFA she worked briefly on an art fair that was coming to town. That's when she met Michel, a Parisian student and lover of art and philosophy who was in town for the week visiting and whose friend also worked for the art fair. After meeting her he extended his stay a few days and then went back to Paris. She figured it was a fling, but she couldn't forget about him. He couldn't help but come to visit again and the feeling only grew stronger. She learned that her school offered a semester abroad in Paris and she took it. Turns out the school she went to was really bad, but by that time she was in love with Michel and he with her so it didn't matter. She learned french. As she was finishing her MFA he was asking her to move to Paris and she did. She found it much harder than she thought it was going to be to get a job; they got married almost immediately and then it was much easier. Now she works designing websites and art projects, and she's working on an art project on the Parisian metro and its similarities in appearance and use to a biological system. They've been married for over 6 years now.
Seth, a row behind me, sat in the window too, but next to a sweaty guy who was in the middle of requesting a seatbelt extension when we arrived.
Luckily the flight wasn't full and the fellow moved across the aisle where he snored a great, complicated snore about once every 4 minutes the whole night through.
Qu'est-ce qu'on peut faire?
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