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Feb. 9th, 2005 03:19 pmIs it possible to fall in love with a camera? I'm not particularly photographically skilled, and I have only limited and very functional knowledge of graphic editing, but our new Canon Rebel camera... it's beautiful. I'm considering making it a class rule to refer to it as "The Preciousss." Or Beloved, in tribute to Coville's Unicorn Chronicles--a book which, unrecognized as it was, remained my favorite for most of elementary school. I have a vivid memory of hiding from everyone on the top bunk of my brother's bunk bed during Christmas holidays one year, a long, long time ago, reading that book and eating--I think it was Mike and Ike. It was the pink and white ones.
How very tangential that was. Lately I have been much concerned with my thats and whiches and whos and whoms. I have them quite well sorted out in my head, but if I'm not paying attention my writing will end up still full of thats which should be whichs.
Sometimes I love everything, as if my world is so perfectly arranged and stable and interesting just as it is. Sometimes I wish I could just fade away and be a pair of eyes and ears, to just experience all the people around me without interfering at all. Of course, I used to be nearly just that, and although I certainly lived through it, I didn't particularly care for it. It's very lonely, for one thing. But to be able to fade in and out as the mood suits me would be nice. I think I may have met only one person who doesn't ever make me feel like fading out.
I've been reading Selected Stories of O. Henry. I wish I could write like that, but the short story has always seemed too concise for me to handle. It takes a great deal of delicacy and craft skill to write like that, to include every pertinent detail and nothing more or less, yet not have them seem like details at all, but rather as core threads of the tapestry. Ew, writing as a tapestry? As I scrawled on Archita's essay the other day while editing--"Cliche like OMG!!11". She didn't appreciate it. I've been spending too much time with Cait. Every now and then I have the insane urge to say OMGWTFBBQ!? and sometimes I do say it, but somehow in speech it's far too bulky to have the same melodramatic impact as it does visually.
Shall I compare thee to a summer day? A spring day? A winter day would be the least flattering, but perhaps truly the most pleasant. A winter day is cold outside but sitting in the sunlight that shines through the windows of the journalism office, or a car, or (ahem) a KIA Sportage. It's a crisp contrast, and the cold frosty crackliness of the air makes one grateful for the glass windows and squares of sun. If it wasn't for contrast, we wouldn't know that we are alive.
How very tangential that was. Lately I have been much concerned with my thats and whiches and whos and whoms. I have them quite well sorted out in my head, but if I'm not paying attention my writing will end up still full of thats which should be whichs.
Sometimes I love everything, as if my world is so perfectly arranged and stable and interesting just as it is. Sometimes I wish I could just fade away and be a pair of eyes and ears, to just experience all the people around me without interfering at all. Of course, I used to be nearly just that, and although I certainly lived through it, I didn't particularly care for it. It's very lonely, for one thing. But to be able to fade in and out as the mood suits me would be nice. I think I may have met only one person who doesn't ever make me feel like fading out.
I've been reading Selected Stories of O. Henry. I wish I could write like that, but the short story has always seemed too concise for me to handle. It takes a great deal of delicacy and craft skill to write like that, to include every pertinent detail and nothing more or less, yet not have them seem like details at all, but rather as core threads of the tapestry. Ew, writing as a tapestry? As I scrawled on Archita's essay the other day while editing--"Cliche like OMG!!11". She didn't appreciate it. I've been spending too much time with Cait. Every now and then I have the insane urge to say OMGWTFBBQ!? and sometimes I do say it, but somehow in speech it's far too bulky to have the same melodramatic impact as it does visually.
Shall I compare thee to a summer day? A spring day? A winter day would be the least flattering, but perhaps truly the most pleasant. A winter day is cold outside but sitting in the sunlight that shines through the windows of the journalism office, or a car, or (ahem) a KIA Sportage. It's a crisp contrast, and the cold frosty crackliness of the air makes one grateful for the glass windows and squares of sun. If it wasn't for contrast, we wouldn't know that we are alive.
