Tom Franklin, in comments to the previous post, says gossipping isn’t so much about sport as it is power. He writes about it in his blog. Talked about it with Liz Lawley yesterday while lifting weights. (No one was hurt, we’re getting better at multi-tasking). She rationalized that gossip has a couple of functions: Checks to see if others think the way you do Provides a way of showing what …
(Originally a post in response to comments below) Hypothetical- over beers, the table starts trashing administrator flavor of the minute. Reality–this is work culture. Even if I am indifferent to administrator flava, the conversation usually starts to put me into a mindset that the place I work must be bad…which I have to actively counter in my head. Can you imagine in the middle of this trash talk – which …
‘Hypothetically- (hell, hypothetically, it happens all the time) people talk shit. Bitch about x or y, drop innuendo about who is doing whom, gossip because talking trash is a thrill. And I don’t. Generally, don’t trash other folk, don’t want to discuss other people’s relationships. For lack of a better description- makes me feel icky. So this happens around me, and I don’t interject. Generally, don’t participate. I don’t complain …
Got to love it when the mind works while asleep.When last left, the Metropolis sketches had yielded highly unsatisfactory results. Tried variations on the theme. Still, had a strong notion that this was the wrong direction.This last one cooked overnight, dreaming of bauhaus, and kandinsky and klee. Not exactly of the style, but definitely informed by it. More cooking to go, but the base is solid. Feels like I’m on …
Summer Projects: 4\n\nThis is one…the redesign (or perhaps just the design) of the What the Tech?! website.\n\nSteve is working on site architecture, me, interface/graphic design. The starting point, conceptually, is Fritz Lang’s “Metropolis”, last of the German Expressionist Cinema offerings (the first being “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari”). The film has some interesting themes: the mechanization of man as worker, and the literal mechanization of man in terms of the man-machine, …
Somebody give this guy a job. Okay. I don’t know him. For some reason, I bookmarked the site a few months ago (probably doing research on some design-related stuff). But Tony Stephens has well laid out site, an interesting blog that says lots (or links to lots) about solid design practices. Example from his blog:”Keep and Show your design process” – an admonition to document the design process. It riffs …
[ An Audio version of this post. Music by my brother, John Oyzon and narration by me.] Tonight was the annual Cobblestone picnic- a school that Aidan goes to. (Connor starts next year). At the picnic, it’s all about the kids. I watch them take off on their own trajectories. Toddle after the baby. Sit quietly for the most part and observe the goings on. No desire to engage in conversation …
ENTRY # 37 comments Brendyn, bwa5099@it.rit.edu, http://www.rit.edu/~bwa5099/blog/, , 24.61.47.194, 1057470901, 2004-05-16 20:41:17, layers in adobe photoshop? did you do that? its cool looking… Elouise, ero@it.rit.edu, 24.24.41.238, 1057495404, 2004-05-16 20:41:17, Yup, composite image of three parts: the grass, shack and kids (not mine).
No musical soundtrack at the moment- just the sounds of my boys running like maniacs, spending the last of the day’s energy before being ordered to bed. I can hear them upstairs. Aidan, “Bwaaaah!” THUD. Giggles. Connor, “Bwaaaah haaa!” THUD. More giggles. They alternate bwaa-ing and thudding. I have noooo idea what they’re doing–but it sounds fun, and since there is no sound of breaking (yet), I sit here instead. …
Everyone is the protagonist of their own story. Late night. The soundtrack is jazz horn. Alto sax. Reverb. Thoughtful. Blue light from a monitor in a dim room lights her face. Actually, in my head I’ve got a pretty constant stream of personal soundtrack as I go about my day to day. Most people are bit players, some are the character actors (mostly 1 dimensional fly throughs), and then there …
