"the atheist"

"Evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins explains why God is a delusion, religion is a virus, and America has slipped back into the Dark Ages."

This is the one-line enticement to a delightful (though rather short) article/interview on Salon. Highly recommended. (Look for it under the "News and Politics" heading)

hmmm. blue.

at the palazzo pitti, last spring...

this may be my least favorite time of day; when it has grown blue enough outside that it seems dark inside, but one is reluctant to turn on the incandescents for not wanting to relinquish the daylight part of the day...

i am happy that we've gotten back round to the Daylight Savings™ portion of the show, though. so it happens later. that's nice.

universal.

There can be no inappropriate response to abstraction. Therein lies the beauty and in fact the utility of abstraction; it is by default the realm of those things which are empirically inpossible to quantify (even if only for the time being), else there would be no need to bother with abstraction in the first place.

(film at eleven.)

monday 4:27 am

Leah came over tonight and we finished up the Wide Right site tonight! All except for the News page, but she'll be doing that any minute I'm sure. Yay! So nice to finish things.

What happened?! I was so in the mood to write when I started this entry. The moment has passed, apparently. Okay- how about leaving some comments, dear blog-readers? Give me something to read.

box of water

pi and coffee; they live in a box of water

I just spent about half an hour reading some of my dreams from the past month or so. My subconscious brain comes up with some weird shit; much of it way more interesting and strange than things I could expect from ye old waking brain. This, of course, is the main reason why I have become diligent in typing out as much as i can remember (with details, mind) as soon as i awake. (i usually just type it up and save it, and sometimes don't read them until days or weeks later.) I am hoping that in this way i will tap into the strange-brain resource. If i can ever make images that remotely compare, I will be free.
(not sure exactly what that means...it sounds very new age-- but that's what came out. it must make sense.)

jesus

You know that Tom Waits song? "Jesus goin' be here, goin' be here soon..."
Well, Kevin was just singing it and then he said- I hope he's going to be here soon, 'cause I have some questions!
Then i dictated a letter to Jesus; as follows:

Dear Jesus,

WTF?

xo,
Liz

the weather

It really is amazing what a nice sunny, balmy spring day can do for one's mood. I am finally making some headway with the verylonglist of work.
Death has apparently become a favored image for my subconscious-- another vivid dream this moring, and I remembered this one. It involved some friends and I getting a ride home late at night in the snow from a rather elderly woman, during the course of which she hit two people when she drove around a bend. I looked out through the windshield and watched as the glistening red pool ate up the snow, too quickly. They were knocked unconscious by the hit, and were definitely going to die. One of the friends called 911, we told the woman not to move or worry. Then we booked it to avoid getting involved in what would likely be an endless night at the police station.
Not very nice.

In other news... dunno.
Oh, well I did begin The Artist's Way again last week. (If you've heard of it but never done it, it's easy to make fun I suppose, but it is an amazing tool when transformation is required. Metamorphosis. Essential reminders.)
That is all.

lost details

the following is an excerpt from a recent attempt to recall my dreams upon waking (having hit snooze way too many times)

“oh they are about to dissipate-
there was this place- people everywhere- relatives? everything was different, like we had spirit selves or something. i remember vague shapes i was trying to catch up with, and ask why they did the things they did.
hmmm...
there was a secret, and there were powers.
there was a shmoo-shape which may have been all of us- our spiritual power interpreted, possibly sent ahead to do things we could not do...”

a persistent mood.

anyway. stream of thoughts-
a gutter running down the streets of confused and pathetic--
oh, not the gutter where the "dirty" thoughts are; just a normal gutter where stuff winds up after it rains- candy wrappers, cigarette butts, news pages and the like. just regular. (and rather less interesting)

not feeling like a stream at all, nor a gutter- in fact, more like a subway- crowded to the point of unpleasantness, the low-level fear of pickpocketry, so you pull your bag round in front; you're trying to read a book so you can have that small amount of personal space like it's a little wall, but having no good spot to hold onto the bar, and someone's backpack keeps bumping into you and you scour the train for anyone about to get out of his seat at every single stop until, when you finally see one, you realize you're only two stops from home and feel cheated.
like that.

no little birds will ever come sing to you and cheer you up; the tiny brown mouse and her children, all of whom wear clothing and speak (and speak english, to boot!) will never come out from behind some great heirloom piece of furniture, burnished with age and love, because you don't have any furniture like that. not even close. (but you tell yourself that it's because such little mouse families simply do not exist.)


well, one has to tell oneself something.

fizzy water

my design for the 6 Spades card in the gigposters deck

non sequitor*.

yesterday was good. went outside. got things done. finished a poster. wrote about the dream i had in which i was a student at a school of war. brilliant, fiery battles by night. i sniped with a bow, arrows with fiery tips. it was just a school; no one got killed and no serious injuries. (<------- look i'm explaining; making sure you don't mistakenly think i actually like war in real life)

today i am tired. blank. it is a symptom of larger things. possibly posttextual.
ha! (i just had to use that word. one of those postmodern words that has no inherent or at least obvious meaning...)

back to all lowercase, it seems. i am listening to the astralwerks™ sampler from sxsw™. it's got that song that target™ uses in their commercials, among other things. and, apparently the 80s are back. . >>>>thanks<<<< (implying sarcasm)

a supernova has the energy of 10 billion "normal" stars. then it dies. remember that.

*not from where i'm standing.

crack'd

I don't like the 'unfinished' quality of all my work.
the tendency it is having-- remaining unfinished.
It makes me want to eat paint.

voicemail

Well, as ever- problems with technology. Small ones, at least.
You know the beep beep beep, stuttering dial tone that lets you know there is new voicemail? Well, sometimes it just isn't there, even though you have accumulated seven new voicemails since thursday.
That is what happened. George (from the Mailboxes place to which we shipped the giant box of art) left a message two days ago informing us of its arrival. Whoo hoo!

talk of a trip

Well the other night Kat, Anders and I planted the seed of a possible second trip. We were lamenting that it has been a year already gone since we traveled to Prague, Rome and Florence. While in Italy, Kat and I had talked of doing some trip abroad every 2 years, but by the time we were en route back to Brooklyn, the thought of waiting two whole years seemed a torturous reality. Yet here we find ourselves, halfway through it. Tempus fugit and all that.
So- we began discussing the possibility of a smaller, less expensive trip (maybe in the fall); talk of round-trip to London with some days in Glasgow; maybe a five-day trip... And why not? Hell, I don't owe taxes this year- that alone makes a huge difference in the fiscal what-not! I have already begun researching.

Oh, and incidentally, we are still waiting for the GIANT box of art we shipped back from Austin to arrive. It was insured, but not enough- only $500! About 30 "Collection of Surmiseed Grotesques" books are in there, along with 8 hand-made blank books, my whole run (less the four that sold) of the "Winter" art prints (silk-screened), a portfolio and box full of digital posters, plus posters we received as gifts and trades!! Bugger. It will be funny if all was lost and I don't even wind up with a single "Winter" print for my own damn archives. (did I say funny?) I should have put the trades and a couple of those into a tube and shipped separately. Live. Learn. Shout Swears.

(maybe it's just taking a long time...)

(i hope...)

quick (drunk) list

Things that are good:
(some music and movie crap)
- Bright Eyes (yes, in spite of the unbelievability and overextension of the hype-)
- Death Cab for Cutie
- Andrew Bird (awesome and unexpected, point and counterpoint)
- Cillian Murphy
- I (heart) Huckabees- this movie received lukewarm reviews at best , but anyone who can appreciate an existential comedy, this is funny shit-- (Ignore the critics- they are jaded; even more than we are. 'I hate to break it to you, but Jesus is mad at you,' as a dinner line in a movie-- hysterical, and welcome. I don't care. More importantly, I laughed out loud. (Those who didn't, well, maybe they just didn't get it.)

etc. blah blah blah.
oh- and pomegranate juice!

All hoodies $20 less or up!

sketches from a couple nights ago

Today I uploaded a bunch of things on eBaY™. Now that the holidays are over, and perhaps due to anticipated tax refunds, folks seem to be bidding on things again. Hope all of it sells. Too much stuff in the apartment, and that's certainly a good way to get rid of shit and make some cash. (brilliant, i just wrote an ad.)

Yesterday I was interviewed by Paul Grushkin via telephone for ClassicPosters.com; that was cool. Don't know when it will go up, but I do hope I don't come off sounding like an ass... (ha ha!) I really have to get my page on there sorted so things are for sale there. One of these days...

iggy

Someday I will have a Netherland Dwarf bunny named Caligula. I will call him "iggy" for short.

hey, loser!

beautiful paper things in a window

Let's talk about how awful television commercials have gotten. How everyone is busy trying to make some one else feel lousy in order that they might feel better about themselves. About how results are more important than how they are achieved. Let us discuss the myriad ways in which bullshit is more effective than sincerity!

Nah.

Well I began my first entry from around 5 this morning in brief contemplation over my typing a rant elsewhere than here. I stand by my decision; I am a believer in the power of *editing*. No sense in filling up the wires (and wireless) with b-roll, especially vulnerable b-roll. ::shudder:: (Unless you are a Network™ exec beating the dead and rotting corpse of the "reality television" horse, that is.)

In other news, today we finally had a true and genuine springtime in New York kind of day-- brilliant! My iPod™ and I hit the pavement for some errand-running, which is far more entertaining when you've got your own bande sonore personnelle playing straight into your brain. I could have kept walking for hours, save that I had a meeting to get back to and the weight of the groceries and sundry other what-not began wearing on me.

Ahhh! So much to do, always. So easily put off with modern conveniences such as television and the computer. The two great eyes. Tangents along which to travel which will likely lead one no closer to any goal, great or small (save that of killing time). Alas. As I am on one such tangent now, and no nearer any goal at this moment, perhaps I'd better cut short and attempt something more constructive.

b l o g .

short pajamas

Q: Why did the baby cross the road?

A: Because it was stapled to the chicken.

This joke always makes me laugh. I think it's the matter-of-fact-ness of it; the "of course!" that pops into one's head after hearing the answer. "Well, of course! Why else would it have crossed the road? Indeed, how else could it have possibly done so?"


Or maybe that's just me.

fifth day, dark

I just sat typing away in a text document a wee rant for the day- it is a new day, the fifth of April begins in darkness here, where I sleep at all the wrong times of day and night. But you were wondering, perhaps, why I was typing away at a text document rather than here, in the warm, unnatural glow of bloglight? (or maybe you weren't)

Well, it was personal.

Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!!!!

I'll continue this at a later time. I've become distracted.

monsoon

Today rained and rained and rained. Felt like a Sunday, really.
(Well and now it is, technically, but I 'm talking about Saturday)

I've done nothing of use, either, save digitizing! (for le iPod)
:: digitize ::
:: digitize ::
:: digitize ::

Had some new ideas for the re-vamp of the web site as well. But haven't begun the work yet. Decided to scrap the entire vector drawing I did the other day. It looked pretty cool, but the idea seemed too quaint. We'll see. I may re-vamp it in black and white or something. What-not. It will happen as it will, and when. Like getting paid in the freelance world. * e r r a t i c *