Tuesday, December 2, 2008

now they know...

i know no one reads this....ever. but oh well. my final show of the semester is this Friday. i am doing a performance piece. i hope it works out. i am nervous because i am typing my life story on a typewriter and tacking my pages to a wall while people walk around and look at work. the thing i am nervous about is that i am not censoring myself in my words. i am telling my story and telling it honestly. people may be hurt, yet may not. it just depends on how deep into my life i get during the performance piece.

its almost over. one semester left. i can't wait, yet i know i am going to miss it. i just want to be done. too much stress is upon me right now. i can't wait until March. Brittany and i are taking a road trip on spring break this year. it will be awesome. i need this.

[this is page 8815 of your life, you wrote it.]

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

the edited

I found out today that it is not what is left, but what was removed that reveals.

I had the chance to see Jack Kerouac's typed manuscript ("the scroll") for his novel, On the Road. I think it was an amazing piece of work and feel that the actual scroll itself is far more beautiful than any published version of the novel. The physical pencil lines pointing one line into another direction and the crossed out sections interested me the most. It makes you think, "what did he not want us to read?" It is almost as if hundreds of secrets are revealed. One line I found that was crossed out caught my eye and really clicked with me. It read as follows:

"It made me think that everything was about to arrive--the moment when you know all and everything is decided forever."

I am now obssessed with thinking about this quote.

The scroll was presented with Robert Frank's series, "The American's". His photographs are amazing and imperfections are visible, which adds to the realness of it. There was even a pen mark on one print. My favorite out of the entire series is called, " The Elevator". I love the movement of the people and the gaze of the woman.


I am very happy I was able to experience the exhibit. Thanks Adele.

(I promise I am going to start writing more.)