03 May 2010
02 May 2010
today was a sad day for the history of books. the great northwest bookstore of portland, oregon, housed in a one-hundred-fifty year old church burned to the ground. thousands of books were lost, some dating back as far as the fourteenth century. the fire, caused by an electrical short-circuit, was contained to store and did not spread to the neighboring houses. no one was injured except, of course, the books.
21 April 2010
astrasat code du satellite.
efficacy. (capacity or power to produce a desired effect.)
attain v. obtain. (like acclaimed.)
amorphous. (lacking definite form.)
antithetical. (sharply contrasted in character or purpose.)
cistern. (a receptacle for holding water, especially a tank for catching rainwater.)
cisterna. (a sac or cavity containing fluid, especially lymph or cerebrospinal fluid.)
euphonious. (having a pleasant sound.)
insinuating. (calculated to please or gain favor.)
pretension. (making a claim to or creating an appearance of [often undeserved] importance or distinction.)
exemplar. (something to be imitated; a model/example.)
televangelist. (an evangelist who conducts services on the television.)
moloko vellocet. (milk laced with a drug.)
allegory. (a short moral story, often with animal characters--fable; a visible symbol representing an abstract idea--emblem; an extended metaphor.)
allusion. (passing reference, an indirect mention.)
juxtapose. (place side by side.)
dolorous. (causing, marked by, or exhibiting sorrow, grief, or pain.)
diaphanous. (so thin as to transmit light.)
decollate. (to behead.)
phantasmagoria. (a constantly changing medley of real or imagined images, such as in a dream.)
verbiage. (overabundance of words.)
reconnoitre. (to explore, often with the hope of finding something or someone.)
arboreal/arborical. (of, relating to, or formed by trees.)
xeric. (deficient in moisture.)
dialect. (a regional or social variety of a language distinguished by pronunciation, grammar or vocabulary, especially a variety of speech.)
dialectic. (any formal system of reasoning that arrives at the truth by the exchange of logical arguments.)
bibulous. (marked by the consumption of alcohol.)
20 April 2010
"unbearable," with all three of its names ("unbearable" "a love letter to no one or i don't know you but i love you," "time samples from my life.") was the second books i made, also for abra ancliffe's 2D design class.
"welcome home: an entirely inaccurate map of things i have lost in portland, or."
9 1/2"x9 1/2"
my final assignment for kurt hollomon's class, a map.
a few more errors in this book--mostly due to rushed time, but you probably wouldn't know better if i didn't tell you.
this one remains a favorite, page-wise. among the list of things lost--a bike, a pair of gloves, my ipod shuffle, and on page 6, my dignity.
that was meant to be a joke, but either no one got it, or it wasn't funny.
"as gregor samsa awoke from unsettling dreams one morning, he found himself transformed in his bed into a monstrous vermin."
[vermin: animal species regarded as pests or nuisances, especially those associated with the carrying of disease.]
i woke up in samsa's shoes.
"lucky" holds a special place in my heart, for it will always remain the first book i ever made. this accordion book was assigned to me my first semester at PNCA--abra ancliffe's 2D class. all of the imagery was done with a single hand-cut stamp.
unfortunately, though the entire eleven page book only has approximately 8 and a half words, i still misspelled one. (this is superbly ironic given my obsession with words and spelling. the word i misspelled was "beautiful." i mean, come on.)
"we are the champions."
this third book of mine, "we are the champions," was assigned by ryan pierce during my second term at PNCA. the assignment was called "landscape memory."
my memories wrapped around one of the first houses my family lived in, a run-down sanctuary in small town california.
all of my time in those days was dedicated to imaginary games i played with my brothers.
9 1/2"x12 1/2"
"the contortionist" was my mid-term project for kurt hollomon's word+image class in the fall of 2009. the book was made mostly of mailing supplies--envelopes, stamps, labels, twine--as well as a typewriter and yellow legal pad.
it is the story of "the paper contortionist," a nameless shapeshifter who spends his days traveling the world via postal service.
the character was developed using blind contours i drew of my room mate, danny felts.
the fact that my character, even in real life, was a two dimensional object made it easy to fold him up and send him off wherever i wanted him to go, and it also made for the perfect opportunity to develop an interactive book.
(each airplane can be unfolded to reveal a portrait of the contortionist.)
(a love letter, one of the object the contortionist travels inside of.)
the next line is an intellectualization of what we do naturally.
[i am lost in the past.]
these hands are not my own.
[my body is a foreign object.]
would i speak your language if i lived with you?
this is from a song.
27 February 2010
i have worked your
over my tongue
i have them memorized.
would have blamed beatrice
if she turned up alive in a local bordello
and newton gravity
if apples fell upwards.
what i mean
is that words are turned mysteriously
against those that use them."
says the apple
both of us are object.)
is this your strange
complex way of saying
language is man made?
we knew that.
the question you ask is
what is this
integral human need
for the sense of communication
as to develop not one language
number of words that mean
an infinite number of things.
[the question is]
not whether north is north
but in which direction we are headed
and what we will find when we get there.