journal sketch 3/30

vivre le colour, journal sketch 3/30/2012

Writing projects, art projects, photography projects are all good, but sometimes I just need some time to spend with myself and to just let my ideas flow without worrying where I'm going with them. The things I draw, paint, or write during these periods are often the ones that I'm most comfortable with. They're very personal, and they help me communicate with myself :) 

Yesterday I spent about 4 hours, listening to music and watching The Voice while I was working on this. I don't think the music playing in the background really influenced what came out--I think the things that I expressed on the paper yesterday were just the things that I'd been keeping bottled inside for quite some time now. Though I was really tired after I finished, it felt good, like I'd been talking to a trustworthy friend. 

Death of an Orange

Experiment with stop-motion video making :)
This is my first time trying to use the stop-motion technique, and this was literally a trial run- the clip was made in just an hour. I just wanted to get the feel of making a stop-motion film and explore its possibilities. The result (and the process) was satisfactory-more projects to come!

There is another sky- Emily Dickinson

Sky @ KMLA- March 9th 2012

There is Another Sky- Emily Dickinson

There is another sky,

Ever serene and fair,

And there is another sunshine,

Though it be darkness there;

Never mind faded forests, Austin,

Never mind silent fields -

Here is a little forest,

Whose leaf is ever green;

Here is a brighter garden,

Where not a frost has been;

In its unfading flowers

I hear the bright bee hum:

Prithee, my brother,

Into my garden come!

Sky @ KMLA 2, March 9th 2012

Blindness [1]

* Topic: Write an essay about fear. 

1st rough draft- 20 minutes

Thunk, thunk.

The absence of light is something you cannot fight. No option exists of flight; you do not know which way is right. Even the darkness of night is not darkness quite, the lining of the fabric not at all tight. Your eyes project white, yearning for once again bright.

Thunk, thunk.

Every step is a miracle. You cannot see; your eyes are open but you cannot see. Your eyes protest, blinking furiously and shedding tears, they long to be of use to you. But they cannot help you. They apologize for being able to do nothing but give you a picture of black. You don’t know which way to turn. Your eyes cannot help you. You turn your head from side to side, trying to make sense of this world. If it is a world. To you, it looks like nothingness. Blackness destroys your sense of orientation, but it also separates you from the rest of the world. You do not see other people, you do not see any other things. You are completely, and totally, alone.

Thunk, thunk.

That’s the only sound you hear. You tap the ground once again with your cane, thunk thunk. That’s the only sound that tells you you’re still alive. That’s the only sound that tells you you’re still on the ground. Thunk, thunk. You begin to concentrate on the smallest details of the sound. You sense the motion of that sound. You feel the cane’s slight shiver as it comes into contact with the ground; your hand also vibrates and you feel a tingle up your arms.

Thunk, thunk.

Yes, there is ground in front of you. You can walk. You can take a step. Trust your cane. You raise your right foot, toes first, and you feel it. Your toes skim the cold concrete floor just so, just on the surface so that you will not fall even if there’s nothing there. It’s still your left leg that holds you upright; you cannot risk leaning on your right leg in case there is nothing there. In your head, you know the ground is there. Thunk, thunk—the cane told you. But when you’re alone, you lose trust. Even in yourself, you lose trust. Trust makes you unafraid, trust makes you sure of yourself. In total darkness, in complete solitutde, you lose trust.

Pat, squeak.

The rubber soles of your tennis shoes gleefully squeaks as it makes contact with the ground. The ground is hard, solid, and stable. You will not fall. You shift your weight to your right leg. You plant it firmly on the ground, easing on your left leg. One step. Complete.

Pat, squeak.

Pat, squeak, pat, squeak.

Thunk, thunk.

Thunk, thunk.

Slowly you let the darkness envelop you. You fall gently into the soft velvety fabric of pitch black, letting it caress you and cover every part of your body. Several steps. Hardest steps. Slowly you see that the world is not pitch black. You see colors, again. You see the red of the fear you went through, you see the purple of the sound your shoe makes. You see the gray stubs of concrete, even the small brittles on its surface. Your eyes cannot see, but your senses can see.

Light is not bright; darkness is true sight.

Live, Laugh, Love

Vivre le colour- experience the color.