30.4.04
do it tomorrow.
problem is tomorrow always becomes today. so i procrastinate indefinately. but the only reason i do so is because its worked for me so far. ultimately something happens to make it ok for me. dont have housing and the deadline passed? no matter two days later i find someone willing to rent me their apartment for the cheap. (saved about 400 by procrastinating.. somebody up there is keeping track of things.) and so forth and so forth. punctuality is something that im not so great at. sometimes im punctual sometimes not. it really depends on why i should be punctual. if its important things (like possible deportation or missing an airplane flight) then yeah im punctual, otherwise. im on hispanic time. i just procrastinate cause its so easy and it doesnt require effort, and we all know my stance on effort (bare minimum is good enough for most things... if i enjoy it, then ill do a bit more, otherwise, bare minimum) pretty soon im going to have to change that, if i plan to get a job anyway, not many companies seek out the efficient individual with a slightly less than stellar work ethic. but i do get some things done in a timely fashion (just dont give me a 3 month deadline, cause ill put it off till a week before if your lucky) but they have to be due right about then, otherwise i will find something infinately more entertaining to do, and theres always something... hell watching paint dry is more entertaining than work. so is watching the rain. so is watching the dust bunnies cross the vast desert that is the floor beneath my desk... thrilling. i named them. dust bunnie bo and dust bunnie jipo. ah, how they play. theyll be dead soon. no matter. i can always make more. do we realize that we buy things for the express purpose of throwing them away? like trashbags... kleenex... those kitchen towels... confetti. its all just trash the minute we use it. we dont accept that from anything else... but a trashbag we throw out the minute we get one. such a waste. supermarkets give out free bags you know. just use smaller trashcans. and your pretty much set. and yeah... london has questionable dentistry. should i pack a toothbrush or do you think theyll take it away at customs? toothpaste may be considered biological warfare. ill wage war with my mighty dental floss. beware britain, for i bring with me the knowledge of dental hygiene.
28.4.04
and god said....
he said a lot of things actually. some good some not so good. but we dont know that cause all we have is the one book. for all we know god loves puns.
but We HAVe COLOR. ladies and gentlemen behold the creation of color in all its different incarnations and hues. ah. tis a sight. now.... im bored. yeah this page has color, whoopdelaa. i think i hurt someones feelings today without really wanting too (and in a really bad way)... i feel. (hallelujah for that one) i might have to do something about that soon. very soon. empathy is a bitch.
but We HAVe COLOR. ladies and gentlemen behold the creation of color in all its different incarnations and hues. ah. tis a sight. now.... im bored. yeah this page has color, whoopdelaa. i think i hurt someones feelings today without really wanting too (and in a really bad way)... i feel. (hallelujah for that one) i might have to do something about that soon. very soon. empathy is a bitch.
22.4.04
epacheco@gmail.com
...
guess what?
i fucked up on the address last time.
this is the actual address.... anything sent to that address is lost in limbo.
so try resending anything you sent.
guess what?
i fucked up on the address last time.
this is the actual address.... anything sent to that address is lost in limbo.
so try resending anything you sent.
20.4.04
epacheco@gmail.google.com
new email address. im trying this one out. and expect it full of spam by friday. but i can always just make another one. they do give me nearly a gigabyte to store messages on so it wont fill my account like hotmail does. anyway. now you can email me every minute of every day and everysingle time you do something even remotely interesting. you could email me in the morning and tell me how the floor feels under your feet. or how the coffee seems to taste more like coffee today than it did yesterday. or how you saw a cloud which you swear was the same one you saw back when you were 5 and it caused to weep openly for no reason. or how you saw a cute little furry animal today but it didnt let you touch it and now your washing your hands 5 times every hour. or you could email me a detailed explanation of how it is that you wash your hands and why that method is better than the standard method. or you could email me a list of exactly what composes general knowledge. or a fifteen page thesis on why the color red is inherently better than the color blue. or the blueprints for your new and improved mousetrap or somthing or anything. or you could email a simple little one word email "hi." and to paraphrase another movie from times ago with talking animals and a pig, but not charlottes pig, a different pig responding to babe... thatll do pig thatll do.
15.4.04
.
the problem with the future is that it always becomes the present.
nevermind the picture. its just a part of something that i did a little over 8 months ago and just recently refound.
what im thinking right now is how odd it is to start feeling older. certain things that i did less than a year ago are now things that i cant find the time to do. either that or they seem like things that belong back there in the haziness of the past and nowhere near the present. people say that certain things kill them a little on the inside. it might just be true, but its the passage of time that does away with us.
i used to sketch all the time... highschool i did it nearly every damn day in every class... id have notebook upon notebook filled with doodles, little things in the margins, or whole pages dedicated to one subject. however these images always came about to completion in 45 minutes, never more nor less if it wasnt "done" in 45 minutes, then it would never be done. and all those notebooks are now lying in a landfill somewhere, they are gone... just plain gone. so that now the only way i can remember them is through the haze of nostalgia, which has a tendency to over emphasize the positive, and severly downplay the negative, so that what i remember probably in no way resembles what was actually there. but i suppose thats why all our memories are different when concerning a single shared event. but ive stopped the sketching... mostly anyway, occasionally i make one or two sketches, but i feel like the quality of my sketches has declined. im just not as confident in making one anymore, not that i ever really went around showing them off. but now i find myself hiding them even more. on the one hand my technique is faltering, but on the other at times i find myself thinking that my imagination/creativity has outgrown my skill. what i mean by that is that i find myself thinking how i want to make something look a certain way, or move, or this or that, but cant find a way to do it... so its become less about static images and more about moving images. yet pictures still seem like an outlet... theres the one series of pictures that i want to have, but i probably wont ever get them. not because of a lack of time, ability or whatever, but because the actual end result will never compare exactly to the image i have in my head. but thats only because every image in my head is never merely one lonesome image... its an image within an image... so that picture that i want, isnt just a picture. its part of something slightly larger. its less static, more dynamic. like a story that just spins and spins outward from itself to encompass not only the story of the one person but the entire history of everyone they know. but ive had to slowly start to give that up. not voluntarily, but time becomes more and more of a premium as we age. now i have classes, projects, groups, social events, etc. etc. that require my attention and suddenly finding time to do something on my own, without much encouragement or recognition just becomes a lot harder. and i suddenly realize that nearly everything i do here is just something short of a veiled attempt to fit in and find acceptance, and perhaps that is why most everyone in college ends up being so similar to everyone else within their spheres of influence. beyond that though, i think the moment we start to feel aged is when we think of what we have done and are hit with the streams of memories. when there are so many coming back to us that is seems overwhelming that we have experienced so much, that so much has changed in our lifetimes and in ourselves. perhaps that is when we realize that we are older. that we age. that we mature grow and change at all times. its just a constant process up until the time that we decide we have done everything that we are ever going to do at which point we stop. and despite it all. at times we attribute changes to our surroundings, to the people we knew and have left behind, to places that no longer seem as magical as they once were, to interests that are now foolish and better left to younger individuals. but perhaps its we that have changed? is it our experiences that then change the nature of things? is the loss of innocence then our own doing? not that of the world we live in but how we have interacted with it and let it change us? but by that then individuality is not really who a person is, but what the surroundings have made of them? so that when a person seems unique, it is not his individuality that comes through, but his desire to make this place more similar to the surroundings from whence they came.... this would explain why people of a certan ethnicity band together (people from korea are more likely, at least initially, to interact with others from korea upon entering college in america)... i think im completely off topic here... whatever the reason for my rant im not sure quite what it is but i have an inkling of an idea... i forget my point, there probably wasnt one. its all just letters and words and hopefully something meaningful spills out of that. suffice to say i think, that ive been reading a book lately that puts me in a specific frame of mind...
and honestly, i think im coming close to understanding the difference between a good book and an entertaining book... if nothing else is said this day by myself, let it be this...
gabriel garcia marquez, love in the time of cholera, is an incredibly romantic book, yet not in the same way that romance novels are romantic... this is simply romantic (perhaps because i found a character that i can relate to far to easily in this one... but i think everyone can relate to someone) and it puts me in a particular state of mind, very very particular... ill explain later. for now ive gone far enough.
the problem with the future is that it always becomes the present.
nevermind the picture. its just a part of something that i did a little over 8 months ago and just recently refound.
what im thinking right now is how odd it is to start feeling older. certain things that i did less than a year ago are now things that i cant find the time to do. either that or they seem like things that belong back there in the haziness of the past and nowhere near the present. people say that certain things kill them a little on the inside. it might just be true, but its the passage of time that does away with us.
i used to sketch all the time... highschool i did it nearly every damn day in every class... id have notebook upon notebook filled with doodles, little things in the margins, or whole pages dedicated to one subject. however these images always came about to completion in 45 minutes, never more nor less if it wasnt "done" in 45 minutes, then it would never be done. and all those notebooks are now lying in a landfill somewhere, they are gone... just plain gone. so that now the only way i can remember them is through the haze of nostalgia, which has a tendency to over emphasize the positive, and severly downplay the negative, so that what i remember probably in no way resembles what was actually there. but i suppose thats why all our memories are different when concerning a single shared event. but ive stopped the sketching... mostly anyway, occasionally i make one or two sketches, but i feel like the quality of my sketches has declined. im just not as confident in making one anymore, not that i ever really went around showing them off. but now i find myself hiding them even more. on the one hand my technique is faltering, but on the other at times i find myself thinking that my imagination/creativity has outgrown my skill. what i mean by that is that i find myself thinking how i want to make something look a certain way, or move, or this or that, but cant find a way to do it... so its become less about static images and more about moving images. yet pictures still seem like an outlet... theres the one series of pictures that i want to have, but i probably wont ever get them. not because of a lack of time, ability or whatever, but because the actual end result will never compare exactly to the image i have in my head. but thats only because every image in my head is never merely one lonesome image... its an image within an image... so that picture that i want, isnt just a picture. its part of something slightly larger. its less static, more dynamic. like a story that just spins and spins outward from itself to encompass not only the story of the one person but the entire history of everyone they know. but ive had to slowly start to give that up. not voluntarily, but time becomes more and more of a premium as we age. now i have classes, projects, groups, social events, etc. etc. that require my attention and suddenly finding time to do something on my own, without much encouragement or recognition just becomes a lot harder. and i suddenly realize that nearly everything i do here is just something short of a veiled attempt to fit in and find acceptance, and perhaps that is why most everyone in college ends up being so similar to everyone else within their spheres of influence. beyond that though, i think the moment we start to feel aged is when we think of what we have done and are hit with the streams of memories. when there are so many coming back to us that is seems overwhelming that we have experienced so much, that so much has changed in our lifetimes and in ourselves. perhaps that is when we realize that we are older. that we age. that we mature grow and change at all times. its just a constant process up until the time that we decide we have done everything that we are ever going to do at which point we stop. and despite it all. at times we attribute changes to our surroundings, to the people we knew and have left behind, to places that no longer seem as magical as they once were, to interests that are now foolish and better left to younger individuals. but perhaps its we that have changed? is it our experiences that then change the nature of things? is the loss of innocence then our own doing? not that of the world we live in but how we have interacted with it and let it change us? but by that then individuality is not really who a person is, but what the surroundings have made of them? so that when a person seems unique, it is not his individuality that comes through, but his desire to make this place more similar to the surroundings from whence they came.... this would explain why people of a certan ethnicity band together (people from korea are more likely, at least initially, to interact with others from korea upon entering college in america)... i think im completely off topic here... whatever the reason for my rant im not sure quite what it is but i have an inkling of an idea... i forget my point, there probably wasnt one. its all just letters and words and hopefully something meaningful spills out of that. suffice to say i think, that ive been reading a book lately that puts me in a specific frame of mind...
and honestly, i think im coming close to understanding the difference between a good book and an entertaining book... if nothing else is said this day by myself, let it be this...
gabriel garcia marquez, love in the time of cholera, is an incredibly romantic book, yet not in the same way that romance novels are romantic... this is simply romantic (perhaps because i found a character that i can relate to far to easily in this one... but i think everyone can relate to someone) and it puts me in a particular state of mind, very very particular... ill explain later. for now ive gone far enough.
1.4.04
oi.
so i have a test. and i know i have one. in the morning. 10.30am to be precise.
and what am i doing awake at 4.30am?
not studying, though perhaps i should (but i feel cocky) no... im aiding a friend in something.
so i spend some time fixing and modifying a picture to get that result. (there are 3 other pictures but you can see those at her sight i think it was time well spent... though it did leave me hungry. mind you i had to remove a chair leg that was in that dogs head, a table leg, a cigarette butt (filthy habbit, stupid nicotine making me feel good) and a plastic wrapper (people littering everywhere nowadays even by a dogs food bowl)... then brighten the picture, followed by that coloring (which isnt as hard as it seemed when i figured id do it for the sheer experience of trying) theres only one thing in the picture that irritates me (and if you cant figure it out, im not one to tell... but its not the foot even though it would have been nice to remove it, but that would take way more time)...
so yeah... my priorities seem to be becoming friends before most anything else... oh well, caffeine will get me through tomorrow...
i also have been mulling over an idea i want to get started, pictures of cities at night as viewed from a car going 75 on the highway... with the lights streaking and everything a little blurry... they actually look pretty nifty that way.
and what am i doing awake at 4.30am?
not studying, though perhaps i should (but i feel cocky) no... im aiding a friend in something.
so i spend some time fixing and modifying a picture to get that result. (there are 3 other pictures but you can see those at her sight i think it was time well spent... though it did leave me hungry. mind you i had to remove a chair leg that was in that dogs head, a table leg, a cigarette butt (filthy habbit, stupid nicotine making me feel good) and a plastic wrapper (people littering everywhere nowadays even by a dogs food bowl)... then brighten the picture, followed by that coloring (which isnt as hard as it seemed when i figured id do it for the sheer experience of trying) theres only one thing in the picture that irritates me (and if you cant figure it out, im not one to tell... but its not the foot even though it would have been nice to remove it, but that would take way more time)...
so yeah... my priorities seem to be becoming friends before most anything else... oh well, caffeine will get me through tomorrow...
i also have been mulling over an idea i want to get started, pictures of cities at night as viewed from a car going 75 on the highway... with the lights streaking and everything a little blurry... they actually look pretty nifty that way.
