Friday, December 26, 2008

forget the year (Bonenkai)


The Japanese New Year (Oshogatsu) is a time for peace and resolution. Origami cranes (a symbol of longevity and happiness) are used in decorations to bring peace and joy to the New Year.
At the end of the year, “forget the year gatherings” (Bonenkai) are held, to provide an opportunity to leave behind the old year’s worries and troubles.

presenting the annual holiday edition:
origami cards and envelopes constructed from the C volume of the 1971 Encyclopaedia Britannica



the cards:



the envelopes:



reading Advanced Origami / Didier Boursin

weather the thaw between storms


in memoriam Emerson : happy hunting
birth unknown | appeared Thanksgiving 2004 | departed Boxing Day 2008

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

balderdash

The instructor has dirty nails, mouse brown hair that isn't interesting enough to be considered styled, wears chinos that are neither new nor old. The radiators under the window swoosh on, a hissing whistle accompanied by creaks, groans, and clangs which awaken some of the nearer students. Slowly the temperature of the room rises, lulling everyone into a semi-somnolent stage where the information is subconsciously processed but never overtly remembered.
The class could be team-taught, or use animated videos, or use actual clips instead of stills, or the teacher could have a young assistant in a bikini, or a soundtrack, or could hand out free samples of candy or soda or pens or cereal or shampoo. The room could be repainted, or cleaned, the windows washed or the trash cans emptied, the plastic seats replaced with upholstery, the ancient and scarred desks replaced, the peeling linoleum torn out, the clock sped up.




reading
inspired by: George Leonard Herter
on the plane: Nick Hornby "How to Be Good" / quite successful despite unavoidable plot weaknesses

weather slushy: snow, sleet, rain, and more rain

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

superstitions

Then the footsteps began. He thought it was the neighbor's cat, pacing endlessly back and forth, scrambling under tables and onto bookcases; they shared a wall, noises of that sort could pass through during the stillness of night. But the patter of feet was attended by scurrying, a scattering, rhythmic climbing sound, and then the smell.
The slightly sweet, rank smell of decay, accompanied by more scurrying. Squirrels had burrowed between the walls, and one had obviously not survived the relocation. The stench permeated everything, everywhere, and was inescapable. The landlord shrugged, said it would eventually go away, but between the constant scattering noises of feet and the fear of electrical wires spontaneously catching fire and the saturating smell of death he felt as caged in his apartment, spartan though it was, as he felt trapped in a diorama of Hades behind the butcher counter at work.



reading Literary History of Persia, the poetry of Attar

weather uncertain