discovery

new inspiration for my design project.


(if you want to be more impressed you can go here. because it was done entirely by puppets, except the human eyes)

i feel like exploring alll of the national film board of canada 's stuff. why doesn't america have something this awesome?

Inbox 1/69

Date : Oct 29, 08:45 am
....................................
I love you! I feel so...
Relieved that i will be
able to see you and hold
you tomorrow. Its like
finally coming home
....................................
From : alton lee

magic

so much has happened in one month

should i have written it down?


sometimes internet you scares me. when are you a beautiful place to share pictures and words and my heart, and when are you a replacement for life? an extension of life? an beautiful exaggeration of life that is impossible to be true?

(right now i have a confession internet. i don't want the photographer that we have. i could probably do without the dj too. but the photographer, he is a friend. and his pictures are boring.)

how do i explain this to you? i want magic. other people have magic.

the problem is i go to the taj and there is no magic. people promise its there but i can't find it. then afterwards they tell me that it was there and we saw it and
i want to believe them

but where? where was it?

maybe it was looking through the mirror to see a reflection of a person i know. maybe it was in behind the pillows that were sparkling and twisting in place. maybe it was in the curtains. maybe it was in the free pumpkin foods and the absurd karaoke and the silly stories ---

see i am doing it. i am creating magic for you.

let us be entirely clear:


there was no magic.

dreams

last night i dreamed that target had a bike sale ranging from 2.50 to 10 dollars and someone else got the last one.


i dreamed there was a hand in the morning to pull back my hair and touch my cheekbone.


i dreamed the internet was printed out on light gray paper.

okayokay sorry

i am pretending the internet is a person that i want to impress very very much. i will impress the internet and make my life sound dee-lii-ght--fulll.

dear internet,

the roommate has left now. celebrated her birthday saturday. oriental lilies, hello kitty balloons, some sort of creamy mixed drink, tarot cards? i know, i know internet the tarot cards were a little bit unlike me. i just watched and smiled and went on pretending i wasn't scandalized. alton squeezed my hand pretty much every time he passed me. i think he likes me. well you know how that goes, at this rate i'll be married before the christmas mass.

dear internet,

it's no use pretending. i am not a happy bug. in fact, i am not even a bug. i am not even existing at the moment. i am just thinking about existing, and let me tell you, thinking about exisisting has not lead me to belive that further commitment to existence is a good idea, not in the least. i have an appointment with a human body next week, though, so at this rate i might find myself existing without even realizing i signed the consent form. & those things are full of the awfulest stuff the soul gives up all rights to have own thoughts apart from body. the soul will give at least 46 years notice before vacating the premises. all the other souls assure me that they are not binding. all i have to do is make a deal with physics or nature or even get my body to kill itself, and i can be free. i suspect that it gets much more complicated than that, and all the exceptions are more horrific than the slow catastrophe of aging to death.
what does a body really have, anyways, that is better than now. right now i am able to afford the daily, even momentary passages between earth and sky. with a body, the expenses become enormous. what if i miss the sky? what if i spend my whole life wishing i were a spirit again?
plus, you only get one chance. i'm not ready. i'll probably screw up everything the day i try to live. and the human body-- it's filthy. and not just with dirt, although there is plenty of that to spare. humans are pretty much always corrupted. and stupid. really really stupid. so stupid sometimes that the human body gets carried away with its filth and stupidity and pretends that it doesn't have a soul. and those souls! o, those souls cry every night. you can hear them, even from up here. they hate their human bodies that have betrayed them and yet they love them too-- how horrifying a fate, to be with a body so stupid it cuts itself off from its own life.

no, i can't do this. it's better if i don't. existence would be ... nice. but its much better left up to beautiful people. crafty people. happy people. being the soul of a human being is much to dangerous.


sincerely, kt

two lists

today is a lot of things, like my dirty socks and scuffled brown shoes and curling leather and bacon in my macaroni and an art project that i will never do.

do you know what art project i would really like to do?

it would be a box. a treasure box, actually, that i would build myself and maybe even stain although that is expensive, isn't it? ah but this is art
and on the outside i would cover it. with the lace from my dress that has paint on it and my sparkling fairy stickers and my favorite stationary and the letter i wrote to my grandfather but never sent and chinese calligraphy markings and wax seals and bits of paper and rose petals and the seeds from switzerland i forgot to plant (i'm too wise to plant them now) and everything beautiful that i own

and then you would open the chest, and inside would be dirt. brown clay and mud from the backyard.

wouldn't that be wonderful?