Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Arrived in my mailbox today. No one could possibly know what this means to me [other than the woman whose passing is the reason I now have these tokens of my childhood with her].

Monday, February 27, 2012

For anyone who wonders what the hell it is I do on any given day in English grad school...

Sometimes, we solve poems. Sometimes, poems solve us.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

A very rough draft of a little project I'm working on...
Things that remind me of happiness:

[summer, where are you?]

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Friday, February 24, 2012

And to end this excellent Friday:


1. Took a morning walk in the sunshine ['round my "neighborhood"]. Found some things...

















2. Re: "the incident at my apartment building:" The green residue is finally gone, and now there are these flowers. I knelt down on the sidewalk to take a picture. Because I couldn't not kneel down on the sidewalk to take a picture.

3. Typed up some more 2nd graders' stories at BDArts.

4. Somehow took this photo without my knowledge. It appeared, like a ghost, in my iPhone camera roll.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Today in SLC: shadows and color.




Tuesday, February 21, 2012

My most recent encounter with weird grocery store fruit. I didn't buy these ones though, but only because they hurt me when I tried to pick them up. I yelled at them.

Monday, February 20, 2012

More from my neighborhood, the Granary District.











I will live here some day. I will live here some day. I will live here some day.
When I tell most people that I love violence, they almost immediately write me off. Which is too bad really. Because we're obviously obsessed with violence in this country and in so many other countries I've visited, so shouldn't we at least try and understand it instead of assuming that everyone interested in violence has some irreparable, sickening flaw?

Here's what "I love violence" doesn't mean to me: It doesn't mean I commit violence, it doesn't mean I enjoy witnessing violence in real life, it doesn't mean I tolerate violence from those around me. Here's what "I love violence" does mean to me: It means I feel compelled by the film, literature, music, art, culture, news, and attitude around me to recognize such a force, it means I have some desire to understand this permeating force in a way that does not simply mean coping but that means understanding, it means that physical violence almost always stands in for something else, signifies something else, represents something else, and it means that I am endlessly curious about the representations of violence, the underlying forces at work, the purpose and the function of something so present in this world.

So, don't judge me for loving American Psycho or Fight Club or Quentin Tarantino. Or this movie:

Sunday, February 19, 2012

And so, I have made a Flickr. I've decided to use it only for photos of my travels [this means no people photos]. The internet offers so many opportunities for organization, categorization, taxonomy. How can I, who constantly needs to label, re-label, organize, re-organize, taxonomize, re-taxonomize, resist succumbing to yet another tool for accomplishing such things? I can't, is the answer. So add Flickr to my list of documentary sites [in addition to my facebook, my twitter, my blog, and picasa]. I'm disgusting. I know.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

If I end up staying in Utah for my PhD, I found my new apartment. There was a flier for a newly constructed apartment building in my mailbox this morning, and it was one of those wonderfully fateful moments where suddenly all my anxieties disappeared. As ridiculous as this sounds, it's like the flier was saying, don't worry, you have somewhere to go. Anyway, the building is in the middle of downtown, it has in-unit washer and dryer, a private balcony, the wood floors are incredible, and best of all, it's not an Artspace property! I mean, I would still look for something near the 9th and 9th area too since that's where my yoga studio, my vet, and my favorite coffee place are. But still, I am relieved to know that I could find a nice place to live that isn't this terrible apartment building that's haunted by so many awful memories and incidences.

Also,

Also also,
My brother is in Africa having what seems to be the most incredible adventure I've ever heard of. And I am so proud of him. And I am so jealous. He was almost killed by a baboon. I want to be almost killed by a baboon! Sigh. I stand firm that the three things that never fail to make me happy are: traveling, yoga, and academic accomplishments. Oh and planning, clearly.
Trip to the vet. Can you spot the Noops in this photo?

Friday, February 17, 2012

The positives:
  • Every day that I leave the gym at 6:30, there's a little bit more light. Last night was glowing.
  • Every Friday I type up stories written by 2nd graders and often encounter glorious sentences, such as the following: "Then Spike goes home and eats his own foot." - TJ, 7 yrs old.
  • Today Groupon had a coupon for a $45 10 class pass at Centered City Yoga. And I bought it.
  • We have Monday off from school.
The negative:
  • I still have no idea where I'm going to be living in six months, and therefore cannot plan for anything past the end of April.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost.
ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost.
ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost.
ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost.
ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost.
ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost.
ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost.
ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost.
ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost.
ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost.
ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost.
ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost. ghost.
[Don't make fun of me but]
Owing this gym bag is one thing that makes me feel more like an adult.
Because when I was a kid, my mom would always come home from work with two things: a briefcase and a gym bag. I would see the gym bag on the stairs near the garage or in the backseat of her car or against the wall at her office and I just assumed that adults had briefcases and gym bags. So now, when I teach on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I always carry my messenger bag [I'm still not fancy enough for a briefcase] and my gym bag. And on these occasions, I think I feel much more like I might be an adult.

Other things that adults do:
  • wear suits
  • talk on car phones
  • take out their contact lenses at night
  • make long distance phone calls
  • put on make up or aftershave [depending on their gender] in the morning
  • book airline tickets
  • use inhalers
As it turns out, I now also do all of these things. Except the suits part. I've never been a suits kind of person. Oh and we don't have car phones anymore. I was clearly a child of the 90's.

Monday, February 13, 2012

I am more excited about this than I've been about anything in a long time. [Look at the project website for specific details, as this post is only regarding my interaction with the project thus far.]

One of the best things about being in the U of Utah's English department is that I get to spend time with and around people whose creative work is in alignment with my academic interests. For instance, a fellow grad student created these posters to hang all over the city. They utilize QR codes to present a series of epistles. This mix of poster [analog], QR code [analog that utilizes technology to present something digitally], and the webpages themselves that appear when one scans the QR code [digital], is exactly what interestes me about the possibilities for writing in an increasingly digital world. That endlessly fascinating tension between the physical and the digital. I intend to write something more formal about this project at some point. For now, I'll just show you the photos I took of the posters I found in the stairwell of the Language & Communications Building on campus.



And! if you hold your QR scanner up to the image of these posters on your computer screen, it will still scan, and you can see exactly how this project functions.

[also, I am a person who still handwrites love letters, crazy letters of confession, to someone I am certain secretly adores me. And though my letters are often more than one page, I am willing to face crippling regret. Because the situation is already out of hand.]