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Published On: Jan 30, 2004 08:34 PM
Total entries in this category:
Published On: Jan 30, 2004 08:34 PM
Fri - January 30, 2004
I'm a nut (Rockin to da beat)
Okay, I'm a total nut case. I wrote another song with GarageBand. It's really
short—more of an idea than a song—and it took me like an hour to do.
It starts with this drum pattern that I'm totally addicted to. I mean, at risk
of songing vain, I must have listened to it to least twenty times
today.
One thing that's "better" than the last song is this is 100% my creation. I didn't just drag and drop prefab'd music loops together. (And when it comes to raw note editing, GarageBand takes a back seat to the professional apps. There's no reason why they can't extend their really simple 'n intuitive interface farther. I really hope they pull through on later versions.)
Some day I'm going to have to flesh this out into a real song. The themes just have something really catchy. By the way, a challenge for those with musical ears: try and guess the time signature?
One thing that's "better" than the last song is this is 100% my creation. I didn't just drag and drop prefab'd music loops together. (And when it comes to raw note editing, GarageBand takes a back seat to the professional apps. There's no reason why they can't extend their really simple 'n intuitive interface farther. I really hope they pull through on later versions.)
Some day I'm going to have to flesh this out into a real song. The themes just have something really catchy. By the way, a challenge for those with musical ears: try and guess the time signature?
Posted at 08:34 PM Read More
Tue - November 18, 2003
Interview with a Corpse
Well, I got called in to "interview" for an extra role
as a corpse for "Navy NCIS " today. The funny thing is I was just
watching a show last week, I saw a corpse and thought "Now wouldn't that be a
fun role to do?!" It was between me and another guy—really just a matter
of who had more of the right "look"—and frankly the other person looked
more like a Major in the Navy than I.
But it was nice because the call came out of the blue. I'd registered with Central Casting who does extra work, but I hadn't done any of the "meet and greets" yet with the casting people and usually an actor has to actively call in to a message board and "apply" for various extra roles. So it was a total freebie. I'm going to take it as a really nice and friendly "sign from above" that I'm on the right track. (And I certainly don't expect it to remain this easy!)
Other nice benefits: I was paid for the interview—something around $25—and the 2nd Assistant Director who managed everything was extremely nice, reaffirmed it was all about having the right "look" so I shouldn't be disappointed (I'm not) and told me she would hold onto my headshot and try to bring me in for some other extra work that might guarantee some good overtime. Maybe she was just blowing smoke, but the fact remains that ever since I started working as a professional actor I've consistently been treated with an amazing amount of courtesy and respect. If only non-union actors could see that type of treatment!
But it was nice because the call came out of the blue. I'd registered with Central Casting who does extra work, but I hadn't done any of the "meet and greets" yet with the casting people and usually an actor has to actively call in to a message board and "apply" for various extra roles. So it was a total freebie. I'm going to take it as a really nice and friendly "sign from above" that I'm on the right track. (And I certainly don't expect it to remain this easy!)
Other nice benefits: I was paid for the interview—something around $25—and the 2nd Assistant Director who managed everything was extremely nice, reaffirmed it was all about having the right "look" so I shouldn't be disappointed (I'm not) and told me she would hold onto my headshot and try to bring me in for some other extra work that might guarantee some good overtime. Maybe she was just blowing smoke, but the fact remains that ever since I started working as a professional actor I've consistently been treated with an amazing amount of courtesy and respect. If only non-union actors could see that type of treatment!
Posted at 01:48 PM Read More
Fri - November 14, 2003
Continuing the Theme of Dreams
I had a strange series of dreams last night that kept
coming back to a (slightly comical) theme. There was this plant that had the
unique quality that its leaves were able to detatch and wander around (on two
little feet) looking for food and nutrients that the plant wasn't able to get on
its own. There was just something so cute and comical about these little walking
leaves. (I think they even had little high-pitched chattery voices to complete
the effect.) Many of the dream "threads" involved trying to track down and
collect one of these plants.
While I'm writing about dreams I figured I would insert a dream that I'd had maybe half a year ago. (March 20th to be exact.) I remember waking from it so frightened that I was afraid to go back to sleep lest I return to the same place. After about 5 minutes of know I was unwilling to sleep I got up, went into the living room and typed the dream down into my laptop. In the morning I'd completely forgot about the entire thing (funny thing, memory) and it wasn't until I was going through my "writings" folder on my hard disk that I'd uncovered a file called "Nighhtmare.rtf".
My apologies if the thing isn't totally clear. It's hard to make sense of a dream in a narrative context, and I also don't have the time right now to go through the process of editing it.
Nightmare
A starship is flying toward some known apocalypse on or near some unknown planet. As it hovers along we see the ground is covered by nothing but dry landscapes with the ruins of farm buildings and old rural structures. Everything is covered by the straw-colored grasses like a field during the winter that yet has no snow. The landscape has the look and effect of a Edward Gorey pencil sketch that has been shaped out of straw.
We (the crew of the starship) become increasingly interested in this landscape and go down to investigate. Like a fractal, the closer we come to examine the more detail is revealed to us: within these structures--old decaying wood buildings all of them--there are figures of people, but not people: they are figures of straw shaped like the rough pencil sketches of people. A head is represented by a few oval loops of straw, tied together at a point. An arm is like a few rough pencil strokes.
All the figures are assembled portraying permutations of the same scene: there are doctors and there are patients and they all seem panicked. In some cases the oval faces have oval mouths aping the expressions of eternal silent screams. (Like the famous Picasso nightmare painting.) Everywhere you look it is the same, like a pencil drawing that a obsessive child has drawn again and again and again. Different doctors, different patients, some on beds, some in examining rooms (the equipment also made in rough brush-stoke straw configurations), some in their homes.
The captain and a small crew of the starship are in some old wooden building, looking at one of these nightmare scenes. There is an old wash-basin in the building with some water in it. The captain is angry at the puzzle before him and in a fit of frustration splashes some water on one of the scenes. Suddenly among the colorless landscape of grays and straw-tones, there is some color, exactly like someone applied some watercolors to the pencil-sketch. You can even see the texture of the watercolor paper!
The captain splashes some more water on the scene and the formerly abstract and roughly-defined scene takes more shape. The "pencil lines" are more carefully drawn and the colors are more carefully applied. In essence a small snippet of the scene starts to take shape before our eyes. Specifically we are "uncovering" one single doctor and one single patient. The captain keep splashing water on the scene, excited that he is about to uncover this mystery.
Suddenly I realize his folly, perhaps too late! If he "uncovers" this scene so much that the doctor and patient become real, then whatever medical nightmare (more specifically, whatever fictional "affliction or disease" that has caused this never-ending mayhem of screaming, tortured people will affect us and the entire ships crew will die a mysterious and horrible death. I scream and beg the captain to stop and I watch in horror as he uncovers this deadly riddle, condemning all of us (and maybe ultimately all of humanity) to the same horrible death.
While I'm writing about dreams I figured I would insert a dream that I'd had maybe half a year ago. (March 20th to be exact.) I remember waking from it so frightened that I was afraid to go back to sleep lest I return to the same place. After about 5 minutes of know I was unwilling to sleep I got up, went into the living room and typed the dream down into my laptop. In the morning I'd completely forgot about the entire thing (funny thing, memory) and it wasn't until I was going through my "writings" folder on my hard disk that I'd uncovered a file called "Nighhtmare.rtf".
My apologies if the thing isn't totally clear. It's hard to make sense of a dream in a narrative context, and I also don't have the time right now to go through the process of editing it.
Nightmare
A starship is flying toward some known apocalypse on or near some unknown planet. As it hovers along we see the ground is covered by nothing but dry landscapes with the ruins of farm buildings and old rural structures. Everything is covered by the straw-colored grasses like a field during the winter that yet has no snow. The landscape has the look and effect of a Edward Gorey pencil sketch that has been shaped out of straw.
We (the crew of the starship) become increasingly interested in this landscape and go down to investigate. Like a fractal, the closer we come to examine the more detail is revealed to us: within these structures--old decaying wood buildings all of them--there are figures of people, but not people: they are figures of straw shaped like the rough pencil sketches of people. A head is represented by a few oval loops of straw, tied together at a point. An arm is like a few rough pencil strokes.
All the figures are assembled portraying permutations of the same scene: there are doctors and there are patients and they all seem panicked. In some cases the oval faces have oval mouths aping the expressions of eternal silent screams. (Like the famous Picasso nightmare painting.) Everywhere you look it is the same, like a pencil drawing that a obsessive child has drawn again and again and again. Different doctors, different patients, some on beds, some in examining rooms (the equipment also made in rough brush-stoke straw configurations), some in their homes.
The captain and a small crew of the starship are in some old wooden building, looking at one of these nightmare scenes. There is an old wash-basin in the building with some water in it. The captain is angry at the puzzle before him and in a fit of frustration splashes some water on one of the scenes. Suddenly among the colorless landscape of grays and straw-tones, there is some color, exactly like someone applied some watercolors to the pencil-sketch. You can even see the texture of the watercolor paper!
The captain splashes some more water on the scene and the formerly abstract and roughly-defined scene takes more shape. The "pencil lines" are more carefully drawn and the colors are more carefully applied. In essence a small snippet of the scene starts to take shape before our eyes. Specifically we are "uncovering" one single doctor and one single patient. The captain keep splashing water on the scene, excited that he is about to uncover this mystery.
Suddenly I realize his folly, perhaps too late! If he "uncovers" this scene so much that the doctor and patient become real, then whatever medical nightmare (more specifically, whatever fictional "affliction or disease" that has caused this never-ending mayhem of screaming, tortured people will affect us and the entire ships crew will die a mysterious and horrible death. I scream and beg the captain to stop and I watch in horror as he uncovers this deadly riddle, condemning all of us (and maybe ultimately all of humanity) to the same horrible death.
Posted at 11:51 AM Read More
Thu - November 13, 2003
Dreams
I've been having so many bizarre dreams lately—I
mean nights filled end-to-end with strange dreams—for the past week now.
Last night there was Quantum Mechanics, Science Fiction (flying fighters through
vivid multicolored cloudscapes trying to bomb cities), strange outdoor worlds
with tribes of feral children and huge trees with mean and angry faces shaped in
the bark, blowing wielding in a very strong
wind-storm...
I've been tossing around the idea of starting a dream journal again. One of my favorite (occasional) pastimes is writing down and talking about dreams. I think of them as whispers from the creative side of my brain. (The side that has been sitting on its hands for the past month while I work on this nasty Statistics paper.)
I actually did some formal dream work a couple years ago when I lived in Manhattan. There was a guy in my apartment complex, Bill Stimson, who had a small weekly dream workshop. It was based on the work of an expert in the field Montague Ullman. The process is a really well-designed one in which a lot of time is spent "teasing out" the details of a dream, plus the background of what was going on in the dreamer's life at the time. Two realizations came from this work.
1. Almost without exception, dreams are restatements of the current issues and events we face in our waking lives. Examining the dreams in this context gives us an understanding of what's really on our minds.
2. There is a part of our brains that "speaks" in the language of pure metaphor. That voice, even when it comes from the least artistic or articulate individuals, rivals in creativity the greatest poets.
Personally my interest in dreams is less psychological/therapeutic and more creative. Many years ago, before I even moved to New York I hosted a last Dungeon & Dragons campaign with some old friends who were still hanging around the hometown. In order to come up with adventures every weekend I kept an active dream journal and used the material from it to spin my tales. I can't express how much of a (creative) success that campaign had been.
So now I'm dogged by these dreams, taunting me because until I finish this masters project I don't get to "play". It's driving me nuts. Speaking of which... it's time to get back to the paper!
I've been tossing around the idea of starting a dream journal again. One of my favorite (occasional) pastimes is writing down and talking about dreams. I think of them as whispers from the creative side of my brain. (The side that has been sitting on its hands for the past month while I work on this nasty Statistics paper.)
I actually did some formal dream work a couple years ago when I lived in Manhattan. There was a guy in my apartment complex, Bill Stimson, who had a small weekly dream workshop. It was based on the work of an expert in the field Montague Ullman. The process is a really well-designed one in which a lot of time is spent "teasing out" the details of a dream, plus the background of what was going on in the dreamer's life at the time. Two realizations came from this work.
1. Almost without exception, dreams are restatements of the current issues and events we face in our waking lives. Examining the dreams in this context gives us an understanding of what's really on our minds.
2. There is a part of our brains that "speaks" in the language of pure metaphor. That voice, even when it comes from the least artistic or articulate individuals, rivals in creativity the greatest poets.
Personally my interest in dreams is less psychological/therapeutic and more creative. Many years ago, before I even moved to New York I hosted a last Dungeon & Dragons campaign with some old friends who were still hanging around the hometown. In order to come up with adventures every weekend I kept an active dream journal and used the material from it to spin my tales. I can't express how much of a (creative) success that campaign had been.
So now I'm dogged by these dreams, taunting me because until I finish this masters project I don't get to "play". It's driving me nuts. Speaking of which... it's time to get back to the paper!
Posted at 09:17 AM Read More
Sat
- November 8, 2003
Extremely Short Notice
I just looked up the programming schedule for ABC and
found out that the episode of "the Practice" that I did last month is on
TOMORROW, November 9th. The title of the episode is "Rape Shield". For those of
you interested in seeing me (remember, this is a very small gig--no lines.) I
play the courtroom clerk seated directly in front of the judge's desk, to the
left. It's not much, but it's my first appearance on a major television network.
(Meaning the first time I'm on anything other than public access cable
programming.)
Posted at 07:08 PM Read More
Fri - October 31, 2003
Happy Halloween Everyone!
Halloween is my favorite holiday of the year, and
oddly enough that's the case for at least two other of my friends. Alley has
made me a sort of modified short-toga thing for my costume as Hermes. I still
have to accessorize it with sandals, helmet / head-piece, caduceus (his wand
with the double-helix of serpents), etc. There's no way I'll be able to get all
that done today, but I plan on improving on the costume and probably having it
ready for "real business" come next
Halloween.
But more important than Halloween, the most important event today was that I joined the Screen Actors Guild of America!!! This, more than anything, really establishes me as a legitimate professional actor. Now I just have to get some work and establish myself as a legitimate professional working actor. This was made possible by the previously mentioned gig on "the Practice" a few weeks ago. I didn't mention this until today because, well, the various actors' unions are notoriously difficult to get into (I've been trying for five years.) and I figured it would prudent to shut up and not say anything until it was official.
So everyone have a safe and memorable Halloween, and have an extra drink for me in celebration of my new SAG membership!
But more important than Halloween, the most important event today was that I joined the Screen Actors Guild of America!!! This, more than anything, really establishes me as a legitimate professional actor. Now I just have to get some work and establish myself as a legitimate professional working actor. This was made possible by the previously mentioned gig on "the Practice" a few weeks ago. I didn't mention this until today because, well, the various actors' unions are notoriously difficult to get into (I've been trying for five years.) and I figured it would prudent to shut up and not say anything until it was official.
So everyone have a safe and memorable Halloween, and have an extra drink for me in celebration of my new SAG membership!
Posted at 02:04 PM Read More
Sun - October 26, 2003
A Dead Ringer for Neal
For the record, #1 favorite book in the world is Cryptonomicon
by Neal Stephenson. I'll spare you the rant, but suffice to say it's an
enjoyable read, if maybe a challenging and long one. (You do NOT polish it off
in an afternoon. You schedule a week or two that you expect to have some free
time.) Well, Stephenson has just released a few weeks ago a
prequel to
that book called Quicksilver
. I've been trying to dent this book for weeks now. I brought it to the Practice
when I was doing the extra work and got about three hours a day of reading.
(After 3 hours my brain couldn't focus any longer. It takes that much
concentration!)
The funniest thing happened this morning. First, some background:
My friend Bryan and I have been writing stories since we were kids. One favorite exercise is to write a chapter of a story and then pass it to the other person. Bryan would pass stories back and forth, writing chapters and seeing which characters would get into and out of precarious situations that the other writer would create. It's fun.
About a year ago Bryan wrote a Chapter One for a new story and sent it to me. To tell you the truth, I think it was really phenomenal, like something of publishing quality. It was really funny and satirical and overall well-written. Back then I had a funny idea in my mind as to where I could go with it, but I never got Chapter Two written. Then Bryan and I fell out of touch for a while.
So yesterday I wrote Chapter Two and sent it to him.
The chapter wasn't as good as it might have been, but I really wanted to get it out. So I spent maybe three our four hours (after I couldn't focus on math stuff anymore) and got it written. While I was writing I noticed that the writing style was richer than my usual style. It had a certain common "turn of a phrase" that held a slightly comic tone at times. Basically, I was aware that my writing at the time was heavily influenced by my recently read Quicksilver.
This morning I got a note from Bryan. He mentioned how much he enjoyed the way I wrote things. Then without skipping a beat he asks me in the e-mail if I've read Quicksilver yet! I don't know if it was his conscious or subconscious mind at work, but Bryan's brain recognized Neal Stephenson's style in my writing straight off! I think that's both remarkable and hilarious!
P.S. No, I don't plan on posting the story on my web site. It's a private exercise between Bryan and me. If he decides it's okay to post then I'll put it up, but we might wait for an opportunity to do some 2nd-draft editing.
Then again, the serial (episodic) nature of the story might make it a perfect thing to put on the web to attract returning visitors. Okay, maybe I'll approach Bryan about the idea, but his decision is final.
The funniest thing happened this morning. First, some background:
My friend Bryan and I have been writing stories since we were kids. One favorite exercise is to write a chapter of a story and then pass it to the other person. Bryan would pass stories back and forth, writing chapters and seeing which characters would get into and out of precarious situations that the other writer would create. It's fun.
About a year ago Bryan wrote a Chapter One for a new story and sent it to me. To tell you the truth, I think it was really phenomenal, like something of publishing quality. It was really funny and satirical and overall well-written. Back then I had a funny idea in my mind as to where I could go with it, but I never got Chapter Two written. Then Bryan and I fell out of touch for a while.
So yesterday I wrote Chapter Two and sent it to him.
The chapter wasn't as good as it might have been, but I really wanted to get it out. So I spent maybe three our four hours (after I couldn't focus on math stuff anymore) and got it written. While I was writing I noticed that the writing style was richer than my usual style. It had a certain common "turn of a phrase" that held a slightly comic tone at times. Basically, I was aware that my writing at the time was heavily influenced by my recently read Quicksilver.
This morning I got a note from Bryan. He mentioned how much he enjoyed the way I wrote things. Then without skipping a beat he asks me in the e-mail if I've read Quicksilver yet! I don't know if it was his conscious or subconscious mind at work, but Bryan's brain recognized Neal Stephenson's style in my writing straight off! I think that's both remarkable and hilarious!
P.S. No, I don't plan on posting the story on my web site. It's a private exercise between Bryan and me. If he decides it's okay to post then I'll put it up, but we might wait for an opportunity to do some 2nd-draft editing.
Then again, the serial (episodic) nature of the story might make it a perfect thing to put on the web to attract returning visitors. Okay, maybe I'll approach Bryan about the idea, but his decision is final.
Posted at 01:28 PM Read More
Sat
- October 25, 2003
Archeological Dig
Today is filled with distractions, so I'd going to
have to make sure tomorrow is a productive one in terms of the
paper.
I hung out at the Apple store last night and kept Lee Beth company. It was a jungle of people for the first two hours and then it suddenly went dead, employees far outnumbering customers. I don't know, somehow I wish there had been more of a feeling of festivity. Maybe if there's been some music playing, decorations put up, maybe even some cheap snacks. I think we should be doing something to shake people up and get the world excited about computers again. Everyone's too damned stoic and serious!
Needless to say I was up until 3am getting Panther installed on my Powermac. The laptop is going to have to wait until I know I can safely get TeX running under Panther. (TeX is the mathematical typesetting application that I'm using to write the master's paper. Right now it is a make-or-break sort of thing.)
This morning I'm been trying to get TeX to work (with snags). I've also been digging through my archives of old short stories. My friend Bryan Lutkins (with whom I co-wrote a number of incomplete stories a long long time ago) and I have been talking about some of the lost tales, which prompted me to dig through some of my old computer archives.
There's also a folder that I'd unearthed back in Colorado that had a lot of computer printouts (can you say "dot matrix printer" or "tractor-feed paper"?) of some old writings, some dating back to 1986! I hadn't taken the time until now to look through that file, but the hunt for some of the Murray-Bryan stories motivated me. Wow! I feel strangely disconnected from this earlier incarnation of myself, as though I'm reading someone else's writings. In fact, much of this stuff I don't even remember writing. I look at the choices of character names to see if they are the sorts of things I would use, see if the topics or images feel familiar. It's weird saying, "Hmm. I think I'm about 80% sure I wrote this."
I miss writing fiction. Most of my output is nonfiction these days, or the occasional attempt at a short play or (rare) screenplay. But good solid sci-fi/fantasy novels, that the era that I used to dream in. A lot of this old writing is transparently influenced by Raiders of the Lost Ark and Star Trek and Dungeons & Dragons and Neuromancer.
Part of me is sad I haven't written like I used to. Hey, when your a teenager you've got more time than you know what to do with, right? The way I see it, as long as I'm writing something things aren't too bad. Between this journal, the master's paper, a couple web articles I'm wanting to get pumped out, marketing materials for my business, daily e-mails, I'm sure I type hundreds of pages of material every year. It's hard to justify adding some indulgent fiction to the list. Sigh.
I hung out at the Apple store last night and kept Lee Beth company. It was a jungle of people for the first two hours and then it suddenly went dead, employees far outnumbering customers. I don't know, somehow I wish there had been more of a feeling of festivity. Maybe if there's been some music playing, decorations put up, maybe even some cheap snacks. I think we should be doing something to shake people up and get the world excited about computers again. Everyone's too damned stoic and serious!
Needless to say I was up until 3am getting Panther installed on my Powermac. The laptop is going to have to wait until I know I can safely get TeX running under Panther. (TeX is the mathematical typesetting application that I'm using to write the master's paper. Right now it is a make-or-break sort of thing.)
This morning I'm been trying to get TeX to work (with snags). I've also been digging through my archives of old short stories. My friend Bryan Lutkins (with whom I co-wrote a number of incomplete stories a long long time ago) and I have been talking about some of the lost tales, which prompted me to dig through some of my old computer archives.
There's also a folder that I'd unearthed back in Colorado that had a lot of computer printouts (can you say "dot matrix printer" or "tractor-feed paper"?) of some old writings, some dating back to 1986! I hadn't taken the time until now to look through that file, but the hunt for some of the Murray-Bryan stories motivated me. Wow! I feel strangely disconnected from this earlier incarnation of myself, as though I'm reading someone else's writings. In fact, much of this stuff I don't even remember writing. I look at the choices of character names to see if they are the sorts of things I would use, see if the topics or images feel familiar. It's weird saying, "Hmm. I think I'm about 80% sure I wrote this."
I miss writing fiction. Most of my output is nonfiction these days, or the occasional attempt at a short play or (rare) screenplay. But good solid sci-fi/fantasy novels, that the era that I used to dream in. A lot of this old writing is transparently influenced by Raiders of the Lost Ark and Star Trek and Dungeons & Dragons and Neuromancer.
Part of me is sad I haven't written like I used to. Hey, when your a teenager you've got more time than you know what to do with, right? The way I see it, as long as I'm writing something things aren't too bad. Between this journal, the master's paper, a couple web articles I'm wanting to get pumped out, marketing materials for my business, daily e-mails, I'm sure I type hundreds of pages of material every year. It's hard to justify adding some indulgent fiction to the list. Sigh.
Posted at 01:14 PM Read More
Wed - October 8, 2003
Extra work on "The Practice"
Life has been... interesting. Unfortunately, I can't
really mention much publicly which is part of why the blog has been so empty for
the last few days. One thing I can mention: I got a very small gig as an extra
on "The
Practice " and so I've been at the Manhattan Beach "Raleigh
Studios" for the past few days.
I'm very excited because I've finally coaxed my dear friend Bob to come out an visit me in Los Angeles. I feel awful because for the first two days of his visit I'll be shooting at The Practice so he'll be fending for himself (and playing a bit with my other friend Alley), but we are still certain to have a wonderful time.
Speaking of which, I've got to get off the computer and return to cleaning this apartment!
I'm very excited because I've finally coaxed my dear friend Bob to come out an visit me in Los Angeles. I feel awful because for the first two days of his visit I'll be shooting at The Practice so he'll be fending for himself (and playing a bit with my other friend Alley), but we are still certain to have a wonderful time.
Speaking of which, I've got to get off the computer and return to cleaning this apartment!
Posted at 09:55 AM Read More
Sun - September 14, 2003
The End of Summer
Can I just say how much I love the coming END of
summer? Sometimes I think I belong in Seattle. I'm sorry, but most of Summertime
is spend huddling in a dark, air-conditioned apartment. If it's over 85 degrees,
I really feel no inclination to venture out. (Besides, with skin so light, I'm
either mega-dosing on sunscreen or darting between
shadows.)
The temperature is just finally beginning to break. We now have the occasional morning that starts with fog (I loovvvvveee fog). And at nighttime I now throw open the windows and pull cool night air into the apartment with a box fan.
It's morning now, and the view out my livingroom window is really pretty. For the next 8 months I'm really going enjoy living in Los Angeles.
The temperature is just finally beginning to break. We now have the occasional morning that starts with fog (I loovvvvveee fog). And at nighttime I now throw open the windows and pull cool night air into the apartment with a box fan.
It's morning now, and the view out my livingroom window is really pretty. For the next 8 months I'm really going enjoy living in Los Angeles.
While I'm at it, I've also got a really pretty picture
of a Bird of Paradise that I took in a nearby park a few weeks ago. (I was
trying to get some sunlight to even out the horrible farmer's tan of mine.)
Amarie made a cool comment about the picture: she said she loves it especially
because "the bird's in a cage".
Posted at 09:48 PM Read More
Wed - August 27, 2003
Dogs in the Basement
I envy my roommate, Hans . Today begins the World Film Festival in
Montreal. This is the first festival showing his movie Dogs in the Basement .
On the other hand, I get the apartment to myself for a week!
Posted at 09:27 PM Read More