Audio blogging is a new poss these days so one day You will return to epinw to see a little icon and, upon depressing it, you will see the Quicktime logo and then you'll hear a recorded message from Yours Truly.
Oh, why am'nt I doing this now. All-purpose because.
Was invited last night to a party and drove by the address left on voicemail by one of the partyplanning brothers. Saw some crack house action next to the house and there were few and far between cars on the block so moved along. Last night was a night of meandering and classic rock star loss of time. Watched some short movies by kine-kook Maya Deren this AM and read an online response to my online response to a post by one of my grappling classmates on the concept of manipulating models. As the sole journalist in the class of 15 I have no qualms about flexing my imagistic muscle of a differing take. Everyone needs a little art direction from time to time and that's that. Did a gig for a politico and his family and he, in front of his wife, said If X leaves me I'd like to marry you. I was perplexed. Flattered yet perplexed.
A few of my blogly brethren have been persecuted for blogging, losing jobs and being told to omit posts as they were deemed too interpersonal for public perusing. epinw is heavily edited and contains barely at times a semblance of the whole gigantic big picture, people are never named and I sure as shootin' don't post with any incrimination.
I have been too distracted by my new musical acquisitions to begin grad school reading so perhaps I should put the newbies away: Kill Bill s/t, Lost in Translation s/t, Beth Orton's Pass in Time, the nouvelle Pink and Love is Hell Pt. 1 by good ol' poet Ryan Adams.
Visions of sugarplums and endless digital video editing hours are dancing, moshing in my head.
Pre-holiday Love.