The saddest thing about a good day, is knowing tomorrow will be worse.

Saw the kids today. I miss them already. Those kids enjoy having me around more than anyone ever enjoys having me around. Bianca got mad at me when I left. And all I could do was look at her sad face with mine, and wish her a happy new year.

Recently I've been trying to distract myself with some videogames. A few fun gatherings with friends. I've really got to start seriously looking for a job. I've decided that anything will do for now, just something to build up my cash reserves so that I can buy materials for my creative projects. Highest priorities are finalizing my resume and sending it around to school districts, completing the online training for the alternative certification program (henceforth, ACP), and making sure I'll pass the content tests I'll be taking in February.

I finished a poem this month.

what does it mean when it seems that always in dreams i see your face?
what does it signify, what can i try to get you out of my mind?
i've been analyzed, scrutinized, hypnotized, yet i can't seem to remedy this cruel love malady.
isn't it too soon to be doomed to such emotion?
this absolute devotion is driving me mad, i can't take any more.
what is love? what is it for?
will it last? will it fade?
are you the one for whom i was made?
can you see? can you feel?
this love, so desperately real?
it consumes my thoughts, controls my brain.
makes me happy, makes me insane.
makes me weak, makes me strong.
how did i live without you for so long?
again, what does it mean?
it seems, you're the girl of my dreams.

Starts off with a haphazard internal rhyme scheme, then transitions into aabb.

Took pictures of Madelyn and Vineet this last week. I feel like I've failed Madelyn as a photographer this time around. Hopefully next time I'll have a videocamera, and we can just make a video that better captures her talent than my still photography.

Santa is coming..

feel the ice crackling under your feet.
watch flakes of snow falling,
until the ivory ground they meet.
hear the children calling,
with snowballs behind their backs.
as carols are sung and bells are rung,
presents travel in great sacks,
for the stockings so carefully hung.
with houses all aglitter,
run through the fluffy slush.
the wind is sweet and bitter,
during the holiday rush.
as the cold bites at your nose,
hold close those you hold dear.
and give a hearty toast,
to the times of yesteryear.

Wrote that one a while back. I finished perusing my old online posts and compiled all the poems into a Notepad file. I ran out of free unlicensed uses of Word. A lot of bad poems, but they might still hold some useful ideas or rhymes.

I've decided that I will make a children's book. A collection of poems and stories with illustrations. Possibly some cartoons. I want to produce at least 30 poems/stories, illustrate a few, and start trying to find a publisher I can work with. Target audience will be 6-8 age group.

Just watched Avatar. You should watch it. I don't want to ruin anything, so I'll only say that the plot was intriguing and the whole thing was aesthetically pleasing.

Written on August 18, 2004

And so perhaps the world was just a mistake. One incredible blunder of the fates, slowly being corrected by our systematic deaths. Who are we to try to comprehend our purpose? What makes our stubborn minds hold on to the belief that there is a point to it all? Oh how silly we are. We who ponder that divine purpose, and do nothing that could even remotely fulfill it. Slaughter of creatures to stay alive, production of toys to derive some meager entertainment, the endless toil of jobs that accomplish nothing. Society is in an endless conundrum, trying to solve the problems that it creates. Humanity itself has become self-sufficient, in that all people depend on one another. How can we question the purpose of our futures if we do not truly desire progress, but only survival? What drives our constant fixation for a greater meaning in life? If our minds be logical, what logical reason is there? Is each invidual destined to be great, to alleviate the pain of others or create tremendous advances for the whole of the world? How important could any of us really be? Not all of us could possibly be meant for greatness. Such is not the nature of things. At best, there are only a handful of people who will ever amount to anything in every generation. The purpose of all others is to support those prodigies or create competition for them, to ensure their magnificence. So what is your purpose? To go on with your pathetic life, as we all must. Perhaps when an extroardinary being rises from the masses and saves the world from itself, you will have had a hand in securing such an accomplishment. You might have cooked the food he ordered, or drove the bus she rode, maybe even lost money to them in a game of cards. And that insignificant moment in your life, that is the reason for your existence.

And we're back

I've decided to write more. Somebody try to hold me to that.

I started visiting Camille and Bianca at their school lunches. It's fun, and their friends seem to enjoy my visits too. Camille wanted me to read a story to her class, and her teacher said that would be fine. Camille said that I could read any story, so I decided to make one up. The result was Rhyming Man, which I read to the class today. The class liked it, and I was also able to share some old simple poems I've had in memory. A Great Dream and Sleeping by the River. I'm sure these titles mean nothing to you, but I have them in my head, so if you're really curious I can give you a recitation. The teacher said I can come by anytime and read more stories. And she encouraged me to publish a book. That's something I've been intending to do, but think I still need more material before I can come up with a good compilation.

I'm trying to become a teacher. So far, I'm eligible for internship for Mathematics 4-8.. and will be taking content tests for Generalist E-6 and Art E-12 in February. Getting certification via Texas Teachers Alternative Certification Program.

I vaguely remembered some more poems that would be appropriate for Camille's first grade class.. so I was perusing my old Xanga account trying to find them. Made me miss writing. There are some things I had written years ago that I still find entertaining. Which is why I want to resume writing, though I can't say I will have much worthwhile material.. things are pretty dull these days.

If I wrote fortune cookies:
"Your faith in fortune cookies will be your downfall."

Rhyming Man

once upon a time there lived a silly man that rhymed.
and he rhymed, nearly all the time.
he couldn't stop once an idea popped into his head.
rhyming until his face turned red..
then rhyming still more, until he fell into bed.
there was no end to the rhymes he could make,
and he never stopped, for rhyming's sake.
oh! the absurd words that he would say!
every day he found new ways to play.
because the fun of words lasts forever,
and he would never ever stop rhyming, because he liked nothing better.
he loved words more than breath, more than life.
and he would never tell her, but he loved words more than his wife.
you could probably find in his mind every possible rhyme there ever could be.
but he would say with great dismay, that there are still more rhymes to see.
for you could rhyme one word against two:
you could rhyme dismay this way and his ways of saying it were entertaining too.
whether nonsense or profound, the sounds of his rhymes were always a joy to hear.
girls and boys came from near and far, by plane and by car, to see this rhyming superstar.
but one sad day, he finally lost his voice.
don't be mad at him, it wasn't his choice.
because he couldn't rhyme, i started rhyming too.
and you should also start rhyming, because it's so fun to do.

Andrew's Gumbo

stew beef
green onions
yellow onions
zucchini
squash
carrots
red potatoes
tomatoes
white mushrooms
celery
jalapenos
white cooking wine
tomato paste
creole seasoning
onion salt
garlic salt
and some water

Originally I devised this recipe as a soup. But using less water and more ingredients changed the consistency of the mixture, and I decided it was stew. Adding still more substance, I dubbed it gumbo. Realizing its true nature of being a gumbo, I've decided to add shrimp to my existing pot of gumbo tomorrow. If only it were crawfish season.

I have to get a good scanner..

Been shooting in film lately. Last test run with newly acquired used film camera before doing some photos at a wedding. I won't the primary photographer, just extra photo dude trying to build a wedding portfolio. But I would still like to get some good images. Don't want to drive 6 hours, kill two days and a load of $$ for film and processing for nothing.

Anyway, Maisy's birthday party at the pool. 160 VC Kodak film. The prints came out too red. Also, during shooting, there were times when my camera was erratically not working. I hope the camera doesn't break down during crucial moments at the wedding on Saturday. That would suck.

Also, AZ Photo that I go to for film processing and prints in Houston is almost twice as expensive as Precision Camera & Video in Austin. It's ridiculous. If I do photos for my own artistic endeavors, I'll save up the film, and drive to Austin to get the prints done.

So these are the scans of the film prints. Poor quality scans. I have to get a good scanner. This is why I usually don't even bother doing flat scans.

Sometimes I stay awake just because I can

Today I turn in my last paper for the last class I need at UT. Then I will graduate with a silly BA in Studio Art. There will be no celebration. Like many others, I joined the college bandwagon, took on student loans to learn things I no longer remember, and obtain a degree that will seemingly put me no closer to a better future than a roll of toilet paper.

Now I must register to take the national registry certifying exam for EMT-B. After that I'll apply to nursing schools.

Meanwhile, I volunteered to replace Bianca and Camille's daycare and watch them M-F for the rest of summer. Why? Because those kids are seriously fun. We're going to go on trips to the pool, bowling, the zoo, museums, mini golf.. whatever we feel like. Depends on how hot it is. I really don't like this heat. I think the world is getting hotter. Or we'll do art projects and create puppet shows. Kids are fun--they haven't had the joy sucked out of them yet.

Film

So I've been testing out my new (used) film camera recently. I decided to try out some Fuji Pro 800z color film. I intend to use film when I take some pictures at a wedding, so assumed that the lighting situation during that would not allow for my usual 160 ISO film.

So far, I've learned:
- The shutter causes the camera to shut off sometimes when I'm shooting vertical compositions. But it seems to shoot the frame before it shuts off, so I guess it's fine.
- I should not be using these higher speed films for long exposures. Ridiculous grain in exposures longer than about 6 seconds.
- The daylight balanced film causes subjects to look significantly more yellow when used with halogen lighting.
- Several areas were overexposed. I should probably compensate by shooting down a step, at -.5 instead of 0.
- 800 ISO will probably be sufficient for the wedding, but just in case, I got a few rolls of 1600 ISO.

Movies

I watched Transformers 2. Fairly entertaining. I would rate it at a 6.5 of 10.

Went to Rudy's after. Half rack of baby back ribs, 1/4th lb of extra moist brisket, small sides of cole slaw, creamed corn, and new potatoes. Approximately $18 worth of food. And ate it all single-handedly. Just kidding. I used both hands.

Went to Din Ho yesterday. Decided to try the duck, to see if it got any better in the last few years. It didn't. That duck sucked. I felt sorry for the duck.

A few minutes ago I saw a flying insect in my room. Killed it with a one-handed clap swipe. This is a no fly zone.

Think I'll start training in the martial arts. Not any specific style in particular, just create my own training regiment mixing stuff I've seen from movies and television. First thing is overall stamina building.

Class and such

I should write in this more. I'll try to write in this more.

I was suspicious after I got my first essay back. My first thoughts were, "there's something wrong here." Then I got my second essay. My suspicions were confirmed. The education system is flawed. I got an A on my first essay, and then another A on my second. That's just ridiculous. I am not an A student. I feel compelled to argue for a lower grade. Oh well. What's done is done.

Here's my third essay. Just finished it. The topic is a fictitious portrait of Venus. We could interpret that and write whatever we wanted. Some people I think are going sci-fi. I decided to put mine within a historical context, set in the late 19th century.



The Lamentable Venus

In the year of 1892, I frivolously decided to visit the coast. I had always found the beaches of France quite breathtaking. The cool, crisp air tingled my senses and made my visits worth the inconvenience of the arduous journey and occasional rain showers. On this particular excursion, I found a most peculiar woman.

I had taken the long trek from Paris to arrive at the country’s northwestern coast, and upon arrival discovered a woman lying upon a large rock, looking towards the sea. She was solemnly majestic in beauty, the sun glimmering off of her nude figure as if in a glow. I was embarrassed to be looking at her, as when the eye fixates on a scene so beautiful, it feels like sin to simply witness it. Yet I was undeniably drawn towards her; by the pulsations of her heart warming my body from afar. I approached nervously, with a great fascination and inexplicable fear for the object of my destination.

When I had come closer to the woman, I realized that she had the aura of despondency and the look of pain in her face. The radiance and exuberance that I had expected to find when I saw her from afar seemed like a silly fantasy now. I could tell from her eyes, that she had been crying for a long time. I wondered if the sea itself had emerged from those woeful eyes. Out of concern, I called out to her. She looked at me with disinterest, not at all startled or concerned that an unfamiliar man had found her naked.

“Why is a creature of such beauty filled with such sorrow?” I asked her. She managed an insincere smile and replied, “Do you follow art, boy?” I answered that I knew very little of the art world, that I was somewhat disinterested with such folly. She sighed and said, “Well then, you wouldn’t understand. For it is Olympia that grieves me so.” But this was one piece even I was familiar with, so I pressed her further and asked “Why do you lament over Manet’s Olympia, a painting nearly twenty-seven years old?” She laughed with a sensation of mixed cynicism and hatred. “So even the dregs of the country know that grotesque name,” she replied. Then she began to ramble to herself, as if in a monologue, forgetting my presence.

“When Manet showed his Olympia and Christ Scourged at the Salon of 1865, it was Olympia that enraged my soul. Christ, the image of the entity that took the world from us, called us demons and condemned our followers, he that most deserves my scorn for reducing the powers of myself and my brethren… he was not as offensive as that monstrosity of Olympia! How dare Manet take a common courtesan and pose her in a way that was clearly reminiscent of one of my images. No, no, not reminiscent. It was a clear derivation from Titian’s Venus of Urbino. Like a direct affront, a mockery of my very existence! Nobody else at the time seemed to notice the reference that Manet was clearly alluding to; there was enough of an uproar due to the prostitute’s simple identity and bold gaze. But I am quite fond of Titian, and even remember when I first saw it in 1538. Oh!—What a sight that was! Thankfully, the fools these days forgot the work of that master. How I dreaded the day that the world would realize that Olympia was not simply a courtesan, but a courtesan posing as Venus! I had hoped that the painting would be lost in insignificance, forgotten with history before the world saw Manet’s diabolical intention. Alas! The atrocity was so widely discussed, criticized and praised, caricatured and copied. It was in the newspapers, journals, cartoons; even the streets of Paris were filled with talk of Olympia! Then the copies, why so many copies? First a small copy in Manet’s Portrait of Emile Zola, a critic who actually defended the value of Olympia! Then Cezanne’s A Modern Olympia in 1870, Fantin-Latour’s copy in 1883, and Gauguin’s copy from just last year! All this time I’ve been suffering. I feel like my throne in the hearts of men has been usurped. Not by a god, not by a demon, not by any of the numerous creatures of great power, but by a mere prostitute. Years from now, what will the world be painting? Venus? Or Olympia? And finally I read it in Geffroy’s writings from 1890, describing Olympia as ‘stretched out on a bed, in the foreground, in the manner of the courtesans in Venetian paintings’. The world has seen the connection. They know that Olympia the prostitute has replaced Venus the goddess. There is nothing here for me now. I cannot love, cannot live in a world where the very idea of Olympia exists. I will depart here and swim to the sea of my origin. There I’ll sink to the depths, and sleep endlessly dreaming of the days when all the world offered me their hearts.”

With that, the sorrowful, beautiful figure stood. Stupefied, I watched her dive into the sea. Her intoxicating scent disappeared with the wind. For hours I stared into the crashing waves that I saw her visage meld into. Until I had become so dazed, that I was perplexed as to whether the entire episode was a mere illusion. When I finally moved from the spot I stood, I noticed a glimmer of light from nearby the rock where the phantasm had lain. It was a hair, long and golden brown. I picked it up, and took it with me. To this day, it retains its strength and color. Most remarkably, it still smells of the beauty I met that day, a smell I can only describe as “love”.

Battlefield

So I had this idea for a board game. Basically, you have an army that is composed of 5 different types of units: infantry, scout, grenadier, sniper, artillery. Movement and shooting of weapons is dependent upon rolling dice. The infantry can take more shots in one turn, scout can move more, the grenadier throws grenades at short range, the sniper can shoot farther with more accuracy, and the artillery can blow up stuff from long range. Also, there are obstacles in the terrain that you have to fight around.



Battlefield 2-4 players

Square board, grid system, 25x25 squares

There can be up to four teams: red, green, blue, and yellow.
Each team consists of six infantry, two scouts, two grenadiers, one sniper, one artillery.

Each unit has a specified moving restriction, shooting range, and shots fired per turn.
The movement and shooting range varies according to environmental conditions and chance, which is determined by rolling dice. All movement and shooting occurs in the up, down, left, or right directions. Units cannot move or shoot diagonally.
For movement of a unit, dice are rolled according to the unit type. That unit can then move a maximum of spaces equal to the dice roll.
For shooting range of a unit, dice are rolled according to the unit type. That unit can then fire in a straight line, a range equal to the dice roll.
If a unit can fire more than one shot per turn, another dice is rolled to determine the range of each shot fired.
If an enemy is within the hit range of the bullet, they roll a dice. If a 1 or 2 is rolled, the bullet has been luckily dodged. Grenades, sniper bullets, and artillery cannot be dodged.


Infantry.. (I)
Movement: Roll one dice.
Shooting range: Roll one dice. Bullets are stopped by trees and boulders.
Shots fired: Fires three shots.

Scout.. (S)
Movement: Roll two dice.
Shooting range: Roll one dice. Bullets are stopped by trees and boulders.
Shots fired: Fires two shots.

Grenadier.. (G)
Movement: Roll one dice.
Throwing range: Roll one dice. A grenade can be thrown over other units, trees, or boulders. The grenade thrown kills everyone in the space it lands, and the 8 spaces around it.
Careful! If a 1 is rolled, the grenadier is caught in the blast!
Grenades thrown: Throws one grenade.

Sniper.. (X)
Movement: Roll one dice.
Shooting range: Roll three dice. Bullets can go through the branches of one tree, but are stopped by multiple trees or a boulder.
Shots fired: Fires one shot.
Special: An enemy that is within the range of the shot fired, does not have a chance to dodge.

Artillery.. (A)
Movement: Up to two spaces.
Shooting range: Roll three dice. If a tree or small boulder is in the path of the shot fired, the shot has been stopped there, and that tree or boulder is destroyed. If the shot fired hits land, anybody in that space or the 8 spaces around it are killed.
Special: The artillery must be operated by an infantry at all times for movement and shooting. If this infantry is killed, another infantry can come to replace him. The artillery itself can only be destroyed by a grenade or another artillery unit.


Game set-up:
All players roll dice to see who goes first. Highest roll wins. Turn order continues clockwise.
In turn order, all players place one large boulder on the board (4x3 squares). Then one small boulder is placed (2x2 squares). Next, another small boulder. Players then take turns placing trees (1x1 square), until all 24 trees have been placed.
Boulders and trees cannot be placed next to the box indicating a player's starting territory.
Each player starts with their artillery and an infantry on their solid colored square. Scouts are placed outside and next to their color's territory box, next to the edge of the board. All other units are placed within their color's starting box.

Goal:
Have the strongest army remaining after 10 rounds.

Play:
During your turn, you can mobilize and attack with up to three units.
Each mobilization has up to five steps:
1. Declare the unit that will be moved.
2. Roll dice to determine maximum number of spaces the unit can move this turn.
3. Move unit desired number of spaces.
4. Roll dice to determine firing range. Repeat for multiple shots.
5. If movement spaces for the unit have not been expended, unit can finish movement.

Getting shot at:
If an infantry or scout shoots a bullet that reaches your unit, roll a dice. If a 1 or 2 is rolled, the bullet has been dodged.
Sniper bullets are instant death.
Grenades and artillery kill all units on the space of impact, and all 8 surrounding squares.

Special shooting circumstances:
The bullets of infantry, scouts, and snipers reach the first available target in the direction fired. You can't shoot through your own units. Units shot by their own side do not have a chance to dodge.
Artillery can be used to destroy trees or small boulders. Unless stopped by a tree or boulder, the artillery kills everything in its firing path.

At the end of 10 rounds of fighting, the game ends. The player with the strongest remaining army wins the game.
Strength of an army varies with each unit.
Infantry: 2 points each
Grenadier: 3 points each
Scout: 1 point each
Sniper: 4 points
Artillery: 5 points + 2 points if still operated by an infantry unit

Back at school..

Currently staying in an apartment in Austin, just to finish my silly bachelor's degree. Why silly? Studio Art. I only needed one class to graduate, an upper division writing component. What did I choose? Venus and Hermes in the 19th century. Seemed useless enough.

First writing assignment: Discuss the importance of the antique world in our world today. At first I was going to say there was no significance at all. But I started thinking, and wrote about the fundamentals of democracy, philosophical thought, and rhetoric. Other people wrote about architecture, tradition of sports, and other such things. My paper got an A. There is something intrinsically flawed with the education system when I get an A. I am not an A student.

Then we did research on various representations of the beings Venus and Hermes. I chose Hermes Trismegistus, an entity that was quite intriguing. The Egyptians worshiped a god named Thoth, a god of wisdom that was the patron of astrology and alchemy. Better known, is the Greek Hermes, god of writing and magic. Both were psychopomps, meaning they guided souls to the afterlife. Anyhow, the Greeks discovered that the Egyptians were worshiping a god similar to their own, and concluded that the two gods were one and the same. Thus, Hermes Trismegistus was formed, meaning Hermes the thrice great. But the funny thing about Hermes Trismegistus, is that the beliefs of Hermeticism and the prophecies foretold by him, point directly towards Christianity. He was actually considered an Egyptian contemporary of Moses. Within Hermeticism was a trinity consisting of God, World, Man. Hermes Trismegistus was said to have foretold 'the ruin of the antique religion, the rise of the new faith, the coming of Christ, the judgment to come, the resurrection of the world, the glory of the blessed and the torments of the damned.' Pretty interesting.

I've been really lazy about meals lately. I bought the materials for my sandwiches: bread, cheese, roast beef, turkey, pastrami. But I don't actually make sandwiches anymore. I place some meat directly into my mouth, then eat a slice of bread. The key is having nothing to wash. I've also taken to eating boiled eggs. Just because there's less to wash than from frying eggs. Yesterday I bought some carrots and tomatoes. For the sake of simplicity, I eat these raw. Just rinse and eat. Every time I eat something, I eat some of my salt & vinegar chips. Food intake for yesterday: 3 boiled eggs, 1 whole carrot, 1 whole tomato, 1 slice of bread, 1 cookie, some tiny pickles, a few slices of roast beef and pastrami, chips.

I went bowling last Saturday. I'm horrible at bowling. I think I was getting better at the end though. How bad you ask? It's not even a matter of score. My gutter ball percentage is about 50%.

Lazy Recipes

Place aluminum foil onto oven pan.
Place chicken thigh onto aluminum foil.
Season with garlic salt.
400 degrees for 30 minutes.

EMT Clinical Rotation

EMS
5/4 Westlake 6am-6pm
5/6 Westlake 6am-6pm

Hosp/ER
5/11 BTH 3pm-11pm
5/14 BTH 7am-3pm

Meat Dudes

So Soc mentioned that Camille eats at Todai for free. I hadn't been there after they remodeled and changed their menu. I ask them if I can take Camille to Todai, and they say sure. I'm thinking she would be good free entertainment while I stuff myself silly. Bianca says "Oh I love Todai!". I look at her and say, "But you're not free." I didn't expect this to happen anytime soon.

Next day, I'm heading over to their house for the usual playing and whatever; I get a call from Soc asking if I'm going that day. I tell her I'm on my way; and she said that if I wanted to go to Todai, she would give me money for Bianca so I could take both kids--if I thought I could handle them both. So we decide I'll take the kids to Todai, but Camille starts saying she doesn't want to go to Todai. She wants to go to China Bear or Chik-fil-a. But we don't want to go to those places, we want to go to Todai. She starts crying. Then she says she wants to go to Katy Mall. Why? She wants to get a grape tapioca drink from Teahouse. This we can accomodate. I decide we'll go to a Teahouse and get her grape tapioca drink, but after we go eat. Then as they're getting changed and ready to head out, I think of an idea to add to the fun. We would go to Dave & Busters and have them pick out prizes to spend my remaining coupon credits.

Thus, we went to Todai. Camille mostly ate a lot of noodles, some chicken, and baby corn. Bianca ate a good amount of food, especially the barbecue meat. They had waiters whose sole purpose was to walk around the tables with Churrascaria barbecue meat on skewers, and cut off pieces for you to eat. I would like to mention at this point, that this concept is genius. There should be meat dudes everywhere. Anyway, the food was very satisfying. I think there will be many more food outings to come. At the young age of 8, Bianca gets an excited, ravenous look on her face when she sees the meat walking near her. It's like the look the kids must have had in Lord of the Flies when they were roasting the pig. She said, "I feel sorry for the cows, but this is really good."

Then we went to Dave & Busters, played a few games, and chose a few prizes. Bianca took forever because she couldn't decide. She said she didn't want to waste it on things they could buy in the grocery store. And said that she really wants a stuffed animal, but knows that once she takes it home and plays with it for a day, she won't want it anymore. Very careful consumer. When we return to my car, I realize I don't have my cell phone, and that it must have fallen out of my pocket at some point in D&B, since I used it a few times in there. So I bring us back inside to do a search, to no avail. I think I'll go without a cell phone for a while.

Went to Teahouse. Camille got grape, I got mango, and Bianca got cappuccino. She said she likes to stay awake. They started playing Battleship, but after I finished my drink, I decided we would just go because their game would take forever.

We return to the house, and I continue my Monopoly duel with Bianca. She was winning for a while, but I'm making a comeback. We're playing straight up Monopoly, no house rules. Early on, I was buying everything I could by any means, and ended up having most of my properties mortaged. Essentially, I was depending on Go for most of my income, and unmortaging as my funds would allow. After a long time, Bianca bought up her own monopoly of the reds, and I told her she could buy houses there. She decides to buy one on Disney World (equivalent of Illinois, we're playing the electronic banking version). She can afford to buy a lot more, which would have killed me if she did, but she didn't want to buy more houses. And I decided to not advise her against that decision. Finally, my just-pass-Go strategy allows me to open all my properties, and accumulate a bit of money. I offer a trade of Mediterranean and Park Place (I can only remember the original property names) for her Vermont; essentially getting the light blue monopoly in exchange for giving her the purple and blue monopolies (she turned down the Park Place for Vermont offer). I immediately hotel up, sinking my monetary funds to less than $100. She decides to only build one house each on the purple properties. After I gained enough money to handle another monopoly, I made a trade that gave her the orange monopoly and gave me the magenta monopoly. I hotel up, and she builds a few more houses on purple. At this point I'm in the lead with money, but as we were recording the status of the game and cleaning up, she said she would build on her blue next. If she actually starts building more houses and hotels on her multiple monopolies before my two sets of hotels take her down, I'm going to lose. I'll have to explain to her the best strategies of how to win. The next time, after the current game is over.

Girls

So I'm in HEB with B and C. A woman with four young kids comes by, three boys and the youngest a girl.
She says, "You only have two kids?"
I reply, "Oh no, these are my cousin's kids."
"Oh not even."
"You have four kids?"
"Yeah."
"What did you do that for?"
"Her."

I don't like writing essays.

A person's perspective changes when they are holding a camera. The mind's method of evaluating the environment around them becomes more intricate and complex. Usually, under normal circumstances, thoughts about a person's surroundings will revolve around their path towards the destination they are trying to reach, and possible threats to their safety. As we're driving, we look for signs and landmarks, the relative positions of the cars around us, the weather conditions, and other possible hazards. But a photographer is different. In addition to normal cognitive thought processes, they evaluate every speck of color, every line, shape, form, and the way that light illuminates them, creating highlights and shadows. Relationships between objects and then the relationship they have with the rest of the environment are evaluated. And after the photographer quickly and meticulously scrutinizes everything from where they are, they simulate in their mind what the entire scene would look like from another position--where all the relative angles and apparent sizes of everything are different. When the scene has been analyzed from every possible angle, everything is reconsidered and a general idea of lighting changes and their effects on the scene are formed, as the mind simulates movement of the sun and time of day. This is how people with cameras think and see, because they are always looking for something of interest to capture. There was one instance while I had my camera in which I saw something of great interest.

I was walking out of the ART building around midday, and saw an intriguing design of lights that shone through the vestibule from the sunlight outside. I went through the inner door to stand within the vestibule, which was composed of glass panels on opposing sides with glass doors, and brick walls on the other two sides. The metallic frames that encased the glass panels were forming shadows on the floor tiles, with the areas between the shadows brightly illuminated by the sun. And looking into the glass towards the interior of the building, the reflection of the rest of the vestibule and the world outside could be seen meshed translucently in front of the image of the inner building. There were reflections within the reflections, and highlights on top of highlights. Merging the image within the reflection and the image through the reflection created a scene that was altogether more fascinating than either image would be separately.

I later realized that the situation I was physically in, was a visual metaphor for life. I now take the vestibule between the walls of glass to represent the present, where we all stand. Looking towards the future, or the outside, inevitably we must consider reflections or experiences of the past behind us. The past and future are intrinsically linked, and we are always standing in the nexus. The concept that was most significant in this realization, was that the reflection was entirely different from the image beyond the glass. In other words, though the past may significantly affect our thoughts of the future at present, we can look through the past and work to arrive at a future that is different. The work in that situation would be simply opening the door, but initiating change in life would be more difficult. I learned that despite my mistakes and past situation, I could still look towards and strive for any future without restriction.

Acting upon this new mindset, I began to delve into career paths that were completely unrelated to everything I had done before. Finally I arrived upon a path I have decided to pursue--emergency medical care. I'm currently taking a class to become an EMT-B, and intend to enter paramedic school next. Ideally, I will be spending my life saving lives, and working on photography in between. I have prepared for further photographic study by changing the fundamental ways I think and see, which changes everything.


.. probably too long. I hope there's not a short word limit.

Essay topic

I have to reapply to UT. And I actually have to write an essay. Argh.

Personal interaction with objects, images and spaces can be so powerful as to change the way one thinks about particular issues or topics. For your intended area of study (architecture, art history, design, studio art, visual art studies/art education), describe an experience where instruction in that area or your personal interaction with an object, image or space effected this type of change in your thinking. What did you do to act upon your new thinking and what have you done to prepare yourself for further study in this area?

Silhouettes

"Bob, the boss would like to speak with you in his office."

What? Me? I've never even spoken with the boss before. The day I was hired by the company, his secretary simply shoved a box of projects into my hands as she welcomed me with a dull tone. I soon learned that the boss was an eccentric and anti-social. Most of the other architects in our firm had never seen him either. There were several whispered rumors of why he was never seen. Some said he was a cripple or had a hideous deformity that he wanted to hide. Others say he uses his office as a brothel, and that various women were secretly transported via hidden passages. Ridiculous theories. I had always entertained the idea that he was just sitting in his office wearing pajamas, drinking beers, and watching television. If I had an office, that's what I would do.

When everyone overheard that I was summoned, they all looked at me with varying expressions. There were faces of jealousy, pity, and surprise. They thought I was being promoted, getting fired, or were as confused and perplexed as I was. Just to give them a show, I raised both arms in triumph. I rolled my chair out away from my desk, stood up, and jumped onto my chair. I did two full spins before I violently fell down towards my desk, and broke my lamp. I regained my composure, and gave a short speech. "I have been chosen. It has been a pleasure working with all of you." Again, my arms were raised in triumph as I walked towards the elevator. I kicked the up button, and turned to face my peers, who were all staring bewildered. When I heard the elevator arrive, I bowed graciously and stepped inside. That should give them an interesting story to tell.

Inside the elevator was a mother with her son, young kid about the age of three. Our firm shares the building with several businesses, among them include various clothing retailers. Seemed like the kid hadn't experienced many elevators before. While we ascended, the boy bent his knees to steady himself. When the elevator stopped, he was somewhat disoriented, but looked up at his mother and smiled. As the doors opened and he found himself in an entirely new place, he exclaimed with excitement, "How did we get here?" The two walked out of the elevator. With a frantic voice I shouted, "Why did you get off!? That place is Hell!" I heard the kid crying and the mother screaming profanity as the doors closed. They must have been Catholic.

I reached the top floor, where the boss keeps his office. Nice view, if you like to see things from 60 stories up. But I'm afraid of heights and am very pessimistic. I avoided the very large windows, for fear of tripping into a window, shattering it to pieces, and subsequently falling towards a bloody death. The secretary was at her desk, on a business call. I sat down in a chair and picked up a magazine to read as I waited. Just as I flip to the first page, a pen comes flying at my head. I look up, and the secretary signals for me to knock at the door behind her. Though a bit annoyed by the projectile throwing secretary, I decided it would be best to not take vengeance. I knocked at the door, and heard a voice inside tell me to come in.

With great nervousness, I opened the door and walked inside. There, a muscular man with an intimidating stature stood with arms folded in front of a large desk. When I met his gaze, he smiled. "So, do you feel like you've accomplished enough in your life?" he asked. With little thought, I replied, "No. I don't feel like I've accomplished anything at all. My life thus far has been meaningless." He walked up to me and shook my hand. "Bob, if you're ready, we can change your life."

.. to be continued.

23

So I turned 23 on February 20th. Spent the day with my cousin's family, and the next night with some friends.

I thought it would be mostly like any other day, as I have been visiting my cousin's family 2-5 times a week.. for the last 7 months or so. Figured the kids would say "Happy birthday!" once and we would just play as usual. But the day was filled with cheers, songs, and acrobatic performances that were dedicated to me for my birthday. It was really cute. So it was Bianca, Camille, and the neighbor's kid. Which is one of those indicators that I visit too much. For dinner, I barbecued the steak I brought, and Edward cooked some vegetables and egg drop soup.. which we ate with some champagne. Soc got a chocolate cake with strawberries, and also melted chocolate to cover strawberries, pretzels, and marshmallows. They stuck two candles in the cake and sang the birthday song. As I inhaled, two of the kids blew out the candles. That was probably for the best, since I couldn't think of a good wish. They also got me a Rubiks cube and Etch-A-Sketch, both of which are very awesome. That was probably the best birthday yet.

I often ask Bianca and Camille if they're tired of me yet. They always say no. I told Bianca I could either get a job, or continue to visit them when I can. I let her decide. When summer comes, I'll be in Austin. After that, I'll be working full time and taking paramedic classes. I'm going to miss those kids.

Camille: I wanna dance like a maniac.

Andrew: Bye Camille!
Camille: Bye? You've been here for like 2 hours.
Andrew: Really? 2 hours? I think I've been here for four days. (And it had actually been 6 hours that day.)

Let's see, in other news:
-I found out that I can take the paramedic class directly after the EMT-B class and that the EMT-I class isn't necessary. So I could potentially be working as a paramedic by this time next year.
- I've updated my modelmayhem account and will be trying to use models from that network for my creative ideas. Working with just people I know (or randomly find in person) is too slow, as most of my people are in a different city or keep claiming they're too busy.
-I'll probably move to California once I have some money together. I'm guessing it will be 2-3 years.
-I thought up a new art project. Freeze small flowers in a thin layer of water, repeat several times to create a block of ice with flowers throughout. Then carve into sculptures.
-Photography business will begin as soon as I finish editing past shoots. Class has gotten busy, so progress is a bit slow.

Pictures

Getting better at editing.

Old Writing

Looking for something in my old Xanga account. A link to a video I made for class a while back. I wonder where it is. Anyway, came across this entry and thought it would be good to repost it for later.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Watched over little cousins. Arrived at their house around 8:15am. When I got in, Camille came down from the stairs without a word and gave me a hug. Cute kid. Four years old. Generally shy around a lot of people. She's fun when there's less people though, gets a bit hyper. Like a monkey. Bianca and Camille gave me a tour of their house. Showed me the humongous blue bear I gave to Bianca a few years ago. I asked if they knew where they got it from, and she didn't remember. It was for her birthday when she was turning three; she's six now. I thought it was funny then because the bear was about as large as she was. Makes me wonder, if I don't see them for a while, would they forget me completely? How many memories have already faded? Not just with them, but everybody that I have known. I remember experiences with people that have probably forgotten my existence. I suppose that's one of the reasons I'm interested in photography. I can remember some images from the past, in clips and hazy vignettes. But it isn't complete, and some of the others don't remember it as well. The pictures help me piece everything together, and show people how I saw it. So then the memories will never be completely gone, there will always at least be that one frame, that one instant. Images of people, images of the world. Maybe in three years Camille will forget everything from this time. How she hugged me when she awoke, spun around as I carried her and danced, or how she said goodbye with so much sadness that it was hard for me to leave. Bianca is older, so her memories from now will last longer. Yet it worries me still. I'm beginning to discover an urgency for portrait photography. If only for my own sake. With growth and death, a person doesn't look the same after great expanses of time. I suppose it's morbid, but I want to get good pictures of everyone I know while I have the chance. In the way in which I see them. I don't necessarily have to be the photographer, but some people don't have pictures of themselves that adequately portray my vision of them. Kids grow fast, so they're the highest priority, right under those that are close to death. But in any case, there are some people that I would like to do a photographic study on. A documentation of sorts, with pictures at least every few months. More of a scientific approach in observing the visual growth, and also the development of emotions that can be evoked from the images after the years. Sometimes I regret being the one behind the camera. Years from now they'll have the picture and know they were there, but there's no visual trace of the photographer. I want to start getting more pictures of myself with people, but I don't trust many people for the task. I suppose there will always be that problem. Of course the picture isn't the person or experience, but it's something. And if I can pursue all these ends through photography, not all will be forgotten. I will leave what memories I can and share my vision--a fool's idealistic world of happiness and beauty.