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Alexi Murdoch - Song For You

So today I wrote a song for you
Cause a day can get so long
And I know its hard to make it through
When you say theres something wrong

So Im trying to put it right
Cause I want to love you with my heart
All this trying has made me tight
And I dont know even where to start

Maybe thats a start

Cause you know its a simple game
That you play filling up your head with rain
And you know you are hiding from your pain
In the way, in the way you say your name

And I see you
Hiding your face in your hands
Flying so you wont land
You think no one understands
No one understands

So you hunch your shoulders and you shake your head
And your throat is aching but you swear
No one hurts you, nothing could be sad
Anyway youre not here enough to care

And youre so tired you dont sleep at night
As your heart is trying to mend
You keep it quiet but you think you might
Disappear before the end

And its strange that you cannot find
Any strength to even try
To find a voice to speak your mind
When you do, all you wanna do is cry

Well maybe you should cry

And I see you hiding your face in your hands
Talking bout far-away lands
You think no one understands
Listen to my hands

And all of this life
Moves around you
For all that you claim
Youre standing still
You are moving too
You are moving too
You are moving too
I will move you

Ginny Owens - Own Me

Got a stack of books,
So I could learn how to live;
Many are left half-read,
Covered by the cobwebs on my shelf.
And I got a list of laws,
Growing longer everyday;
If I keep pluggin' away,
Maybe one day I'll perfect myself.
Oh, but all of my labor,
Seems to be in vain;
And all of my laws,
Just cause me more pain;
So I fall before You,
In all of my shame;
Ready and willing to be changed-

Chorus:
Own me
Take all that I am,
And heal me
With the blood of the Lamb.
Mold me
With Your gracious hand;
Break me till I'm only Yours-
Own me

Oh, you call me Daughter,
And you take my blame;
And you run to meet me,
When I cry out Your name,
So I fall before You,
In all of my shame.
Lord, I am willing to be changed

Things.

Trading Cards.

I don't much fancy the idea of doing work at present, having only just left the theater wherein I viewed A Draughtsman's Contract, by Peter Greenaway.

I rarely ever find the idea of studying appealing these past weeks, and so instead return to that archaic activity of blogging. Or rather writing being the pasttime of old, but here is an ethereal electronic audience. I commence.

In class today a gentleman did confess to me that he spends usually six hours a day in journaling. Writing. . . really. . .nothing. (he added, saying
sometimes it really bores him but he still does it.)

Last week in class I had set my things, including my ID down on the desk and he took my idea jokingly. When I pestered him to get it back, he instead gave me his and said we should switch. Today, we did. Two days without my id was actually a kind of scary prospect, I need it to get into places and buy food and a host of other things. The cards are well coded so he doesn't have access to the same things I do. It was also scary because of the delight he took in joking about buying a thousand things with the card or wreaking havoc on whatever.

I chose to buy not only my lunch (which I had actually packed this morning and didn't need to purchase) but lunch for a friend. I ended up seeing him at a film screening and we opted to switch back (he might leave early for spring break and I would be ID-less for well over a week. ) He remarked of the experience that it was a bit scary to use someone else's idea to pay for dinner for himself and 10 friends with a card with someone else's face on it. I decided to now log on to my meal account and see how much he had spent. I was thinking that I was perhaps foolish to have given him my card, because I can't actually just throw away loads of money for food. He had spent the price of one modest meal. Entirely reasonable.

I, yes me, I was the one who had jumped at the chance to spend slightly more than I normally would/perhaps should have, although I kept it low with the thought I might need to make retributions.

An interesting study into my own psyche.

Mac-iversary

The Mac at 25

By Jason Snell (jsnell@macworld.com)

We Celebrate 25 Years of the Mac (and Macworld)

As I write this, I have the very first issue of Macworld sitting in front of me. It's a magazine without a cover date: because it was produced with the cooperation of Apple Computer itself -- back when Apple still called itself Apple Computer -- the first issue was set to debut the same day as the Mac itself. The editors back then didn't know exactly when that day would be, and so went to press without a date on the cover.

As it turned out, the day was January 24, 1984. And so this past week, we celebrated the 25th birthday of both the Mac and Macworld.

In flipping through that first issue, the few familiar things really stick out, since so much has changed in the intervening years. For example: Steve Jobs is on the cover (though he's in a brown pinstriped suit, not in his modern-era black turtleneck and jeans). In front of him are three all-in-one Macs. Of course, they're the originals. But I'm struck by the fact that the iMac -- an all-in-one device designed for mainstream computer users -- continues to be inspired by those very first Macs.

A lot of the ideas introduced in that first issue seem remarkably normal today. The very first feature article, "A Tour of the Mac Desktop" by longtime Macworld contributor Lon Poole, includes an illustration of features I can see on my Mac screen today: a menu bar with an Apple logo in the left corner, a window full of files and folders represented by icons and names, and a desktop area.

The difference, of course, is that today these concepts are absolutely common. Back in 1984, that first article had to carefully explain the concept of the desktop; its entire first page was devoted to a complicated metaphor about trying to drive a car with a keyboard instead of a steering wheel.

But Apple, of all companies, is not prone to looking back. With the iPhone, especially, we see the company changing the way people use cell phones and other handheld devices. And here, 25 years later, the Mac is more successful than it has ever been. Apple sold more Macs in the last year than it has in a single year ever before, and sales are accelerating.

That's why a lot of the focus of our 25th anniversary coverage centered around what comes next. Followers of a company with such a ruthless dedication to innovation should expect nothing less.
Read our 25th anniversary coverage

As for where Apple goes next, I think we all have a pretty good idea. Apple is going to continue going by the playbook that has served it in good stead since the day it was founded: combining innovative hardware and software in a seamless package. The truth of the matter is, Apple has succeeded by realizing that technology companies fail when they specialize on hardware or software to the exclusion of the other. The best products are those where the hardware and software fuse together to form a single product that's powerful, or lovable, or otherwise just what the user ordered.

We saw that 25 years ago with the original Mac, which was a quantum leap forward in usability for personal computers. We saw it with the iPod in 2001, and again with the iPhone in 2007. Where will Apple go next? The people locked inside a development room somewhere on Apple's Cupertino campus may know for sure, but the rest of us will just have to watch and wait -- and marvel at the next innovation from the company that brought us the original Mac back in 1984.

A Christmas List?

I was thinking of being obnoxious and making rules about Christmas this year, like "You can't buy me anything new. . . you must make me something. . . or buy something at a thrift store. . .or maybe on ebay if you email back and forth with the seller a little." But who am I to say what I can and can't be given, right?

Anyway, there's this girl Shannon Burns and she writes poetry which is delicious, and furthermore she came to visit my Poetry class and she told us about her muse, Mark Leidner, and as it would turn out his writing is simply scrumptious, and I'm hoping for a Christmas full of wonderful cheap Chapbooks under ten dollars, which are just fantastic small editions of not-so-known poetry, like

The Night Of 1,000 Murders by
Mark Leidner
from Factory Hollow


Or maybe something from Ugly Duckling Press.

newmichiganpress.com/nmp/ordering.html

http://upress.kent.edu/
Blog surfing today, I read a rant about the way that we no longer make do. We have such a surplus that we no longer really have to find creative solutions to problems, we can simply go about following the recipe, never having to substitute an ingredient in life. The blogauthor wrote this:

"Make! Do!
A Way of Life
A Manifesto
Get by with what you have - resist the urge to upgrade.
Embrace a Depression mentality.
A good kitchen sink dinner is more praiseworthy than the best ingredients shopped for and assembled by rote.
Make do - but also Make! and Do!
Limit options and it will expand your creativity."

http://kayemess.diaryland.com/071220_15.html

Hmmmm.

Call for Feedback.

Crit 2: Heard.

So, what do you see here? Impression, interpretation, response?

Hmmm.

A lot of me wants to just illustrate this song for my next printmaking project.

Old Coyote waits out there
With his gray-brown hair and his three-mile stare
I walk backwards trhough the air
Devil may care, the devil may care now

Ring around rosey game
Always ends the same way
We all fall down
Get up now, baby, get up now, baby
It's your song, it's your song playing

Vision of Mary in converse shoes
She's putting down roots and stars she shoots out
I am crying on her couch
Talking in tongues when the words won't come out


Ring around rosey game
Always ends the same way
We all fall down
Get up now, baby, get up now, baby
It's your song, it's your song playing

Old Coyote's faking sleep
Not counting sheep on the watch he keeps
We bring springtime into bloom inside these rooms
And outside under the moon

Ring around rosey game
Always ends the same way
We all fall down
Get up now, baby, get up now, baby
It's your song, it's your song playing

Original Post Secret, without the post?

1970: Douglas Huebler asks museum visitors to write down 'one authentic secret'. The resulting 1800 documents are compiled into a book which, by some accounts, makes for very repetitive reading as most secrets are similar.

Douglas Huebler (October 27, 1924 – July 12, 1997) was an American conceptual artist. Huebler was initially aligned with the minimalist movement and was included in the seminal 1966 exhibit at the Jewish Museum in New York titled, "Primary Structures." Shortly thereafter, he made the famous statement, “The world is full of objects, more or less interesting; I do not wish to add any more.” He then started producing works in numerous media often involving documentary photography, maps and text to explore social environments and the effect of passing time on objects. For twenty years, he was dean of the California Institute of Arts.