So. Wow. Yeah, it’s here, the long awaited winter breakin’ d6 update. I was fooling around with s u s p e n s i o n and it straight-up exploded into a “multimedia memory project fascination.” For those familiar with s u s p e n s i o n, you will recognize the platform narrative, but look again to slip within the memories making all of this.
Stylistically it’s definitely me but a lot more relaxed than my fiction or other creative nonfiction—that is, formal mechanics aren’t emphasized so much as imagery and moments… which, well, work to construct a whole, but how about I stop explaining it, eh? I let myself go with the writing of this—allow yourself to do the same while exploring it. The navigation requires your browser to accept popup windows—note that some of the links are actual links and not popups, so be careful what you close out; you might lose the main page.
Speaking of creative nonfiction, and as some of you know, I completed my senior project this past semester for my English major by writing literary nonfiction. This not being the normal research and resource senior paper, many have been curious about what exactly it is that I do at the university, and what makes me deserve a diploma in the spring.
Now that… I can’t answer that, but I will say that creative endeavors aren’t subjects you learn so much as processes for which you prepare yourself. Incidentally, after three years of university, this is what I do—I’ve majored in writing things like s u s p e n s i o n.
In other news, I saw Interpol and Calla last night, and they blew me away. Interpol sounded so… good… which sounds obvious and painfully dull, but there was something technical deadly on making the difference between a great band sounding decent live, and unbelievably mindshocking. –>uh-huh yeah. Many props. My only complaint was there wasn’t much room to dance, but I must have been doing something right:
Woman: Hey you, Dancing Girl! I like your dancing!
Me: Aw, thank you!
Woman: Let me buy you a drink!
Me: Oh, well, that’s okay, I don’t really—
Woman: Hey. @!*% you. Shut up. You’re beautiful.
Then she bought me orange juice, or rather, made her disgruntled male friend give her money to buy me orange juice. It was awkward and hilarious. In other music-related, er, oddities, I try to deny dorkcheesepopcore, I do, really hard, but it’s true—I like My Chemical Romance. This mention isn’t a suggestion so much as a confession and warning. Beware—they’re catchy.
Oh, and about this news item’s title… my friend Bree gave me “Amish Friendship Bread” dough in a bag that I have to stir everyday for ten days, sometimes adding ingredients. On the last day I’m supposed to split up the dough, use some of it to make bread, and give the remaining “starter” dough to other people. So—basically—it’s chainbread. I’m not sure how I feel about it; I’m on day seven, now, and I’m starting to feel phantom pain in my knee, neck, and wrist regions.
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