in airplanes, assorted rental cars, and a big blue van that's cheating death
I visited: Spokane, Seattle, Portland, the Oregon coast, Vancouver, Chicago (twice), Thunder Bay, several "Up North"s, Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Detroit, NYC, Danbury, CT, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, San Jose, San Francisco, Santa Cruz, Lincoln (like six times), Clive, IA, Kansas City, Oklahoma City, Dallas, and Austin
squinting into austin springtime with fear of sunburn occasionally rising to the surface of my consciousness increasing demands on all five senses are sufficient to overwhelm the always otherwise picking apart i do, of things
instead i find a challenge in sorting through the music (see: humanity) pouring out over every doorstep on sixth street and attempting to identify the who where why of my fellow wanderers each conversation is as if with some strange species from an alternate universe and i soak it up with no mental filter (crazy, mister, you are just crazy) this strange mecca, or non-mecca a cartoon version of its own self filled with two dimensional people mouths moving jerkily weighing nothing
trudging through the tundra after my ill advised toosoon northern migration should feel familiar
but the approach to the same old door is as surreal as the rest of it for its filled-out-ness its picked-apart-ness its understand-able-ness
reminds me of the time i cried after airplane wheels touched ground in america when i realized that i could understand all the words echoing off terminal walls plastered in ads in english
the most dangerous time is the collision of reality and its exceptions for the way you relearn what it feels like to understand and what pieces you remember and forget
i want to remember fireworks on a river, reflected on glass buildings behind a band with a too-appropriate name twinkling and roaring and the odyssey toward it, droves of locals, tour hard musicians, hipsters with cash
i want to remember crazy pachyderm rv breakfast and the strange non-allure of hare krishna despite the beauty of the prophet
i want to remember opening the door to my mother's kitchen to see nine of my musical comrades camped out on the living room floor as if it wasn't an oxymoron
i wouldn't mind forgetting the large and sweaty flannel shirted fan of echo and the bunnymen although, i would remember how he laughed and how the people around me laughed when i told him he shouldn't sing along and he knew it was true
somehow i managed to avoid sunburn but the rest of it, a pile of stones to be turned over picked apart is going to take awhile to work back into this place i so far call "reality"
posted by renee 11:01 PM
Thursday, March 12, 2009
i cannot believe it took me this long to play with garage band. today, which should have been productive in other ways, instead consisted solely of jumping headfirst into pandora's box.
alarming. i may never come back.
were i to unleash the furious fury of my uninhibited whole heart's love
i have no doubt you would run so i'll lock it away keep it out of the sun keep you safe
i doubt i can sustain it it's trouble to contain it it's bursting it's too much it's too much it's too much
my eyeballs are lead pressure pressure it's a good thing i love regression so incredibly much, or i would be probably crying. i need sleep so bad. but man. had the opportunity to spread the joy of my knowledge of H-lookup and format painter to some first-years. and then, upon the discovery of first order positive serial correlation in the relationship between GDP and stock market valuation? a tiny little trick, E-5 kind of tiny, i DEMOLISHED it. math rules so hard.
posted by renee 10:48 PM
something that was in my notes from regression today, which accidentally made a poem:
heteroskedasticity
How do you find it? ----With your eyeballs --------In the mysterious dimension “z”
it is annoying that this publishing software does not understand that maybe i INTENTIONALLY put several spaces in a row for poetic effect in the absence of the option of tabs. thus, dashes where i'd prefer empty space.
