I remember you. If only my fear of authentic journaling had not defeated me ( Read more... )

Spring is here, and the air is growing discernibly warmer. The insects are back in force and birds are chirping even now outside my window ( Read more... )

First, an indirection: I posit that a certain sense of history is conveyed via the use of antiquated media, even when the content itself is of the most contemporary character. Take for example the photorealistic paintings of Rudolf Stingel in his 2007 exhibit at the Whitney: despite being based on digital prints, the vast canvases reveal themselves ( Read more... )

In real life, in which Ms. Kiefer has just passed away, I am not at all happy. Yet in the bubble of college, things at least have the semblance of progressing apace. I confuse and disappoint myself. Walt Whitman and multitudes, I guess. More on this later ( Read more... )

5077 | nye ba zaa
5078 | ti naangmin teung
5079 | bon ben be

"In God's country
what is there
to surpass this?
--from the Myth of the Bagre

and all its attendant expectations are on the cusp of becoming real. I have classes, readings, membership in a few clubs, an on-campus job, a paper lantern, a houseplant, posters in the mail. My sociopolitical assumptions are being mildly contested, my discourse is taking on new and lofty dimensions in response to the level of those around me. I ( Read more... )

Someone broke into my house through the dining room window. Fortunately, we're fine and they only took my old laptop with a broken screen, rather than anything of value. Still, it points out the vulnerability of our position here -- especially since, had I come home a little earlier, they might have taken my Macbook which I dropped off or even been ( Read more... )

Acceptances (only first three are ordered by preference ( Read more... )

"Galatea ( Read more... )

The classroom is idle ( Read more... )