Like, I don’t mind. But just so you know, there are tumblr add-ons that allow you to “block” text posts on your dash, so you get to only see the pictures, if that’s what you want to have on you dash. There are also add-ons that allow you to see one type of post at a time, like only pictures, or only texts, or only audio etc.
So you don’t have to unfollow someone you might like for their picture posts, but can’t stand talking all the time about the fanfictions they’re writing and whining and generally being a bore ;)
So I was stuck in my story (fic), kinda stumped and exhausted of dealing with all the angsty, confusing teenage feelings my characters were going through (they have a lot of feelings poor babies). So I decided to draft out a sort of idea for another fic I had that involved a post-apocalyptic world. With dragons. And shotguns loaded with magical bullets. And then I realized that I liked writing it more, because I could use more swear words in it. I really like swear words.
Yeah…I am not aiming for the Nobel Prize of literature here. Or any kind of prize really. Obviously.
So The Dark Knight Rises was fucking awesome. I showed off my über geekiness by freaking out a lot, and figuring out plot points because I knew the comics, and I had to grab Sleepybear by the arm a lot to refrain from squealing my head off.
I just. I love comics okay, and I loved that movie.
How have you managed to hold so many jobs? The art gallery and the boat dock both sound incredible! Also, you've mentioned before that you dislike teaching (I don't remember it's just the teaching or if you dislike children as well). I was just wondering what is the reason for that? There's no problem with it of course. You just seem like the type to me who would enjoy children and teaching. Then again, that may just be because I know you enjoy children's and young adult literature. Sorry!
haha, um, I’m 28?
And a lot of those are like summer jobs. The art gallery was so awesome you have noooo idea. It was amazing. It totally makes up for the fact that the degree I got at my uni (where the gallery was) is pretty much useless because of the way the uni worked.
It’s the children part thing that I don’t like. It felt too much like babysitting. Actually I should have put babysitting on the worst list as well…(will do that). I hate doing discipline and children are noisy. I’m actually good with them. But I don’t like dealing with them that much, especially not in groups. I’ve worked 5 years with teenagers (not on the list because I wasn’t paid), and I MUCH MUCH preferred that (it was pretty awesome in fact - was working with the drama teacher at the local high school putting on plays and such. Lots of fun.) My favourite classes when I was in Korea were the ones with middle-school kids. But I didn’t have many of those. I think I would enjoy teaching adults or like at the university level if I were teaching something that I’m passionate about. It’s not gonna happen though so *shrugs*.
Daydreaming about going back to uni to study Creative Writing. Then thinking that no no no, I can figure it out on my own without spending thousands of dollars again, right? RIGHT? I’ve been out of uni long enough to start romanticizing it again. Ain’t that nice?
i feel so stupid asking this but what does 'fractal ferocity' mean, those two words just don't seem to make sense together but the obviously do somehow, please help? xx
I…actually don’t have the book it is from with me, so I can’t give you the context in which it was used.
But, it’s really irrelevant.
If you want to get technical about it, fractal comes from the French fractal, which comes from the Latin fractus which means broken or fragmented/fragment (or something along those lines). It’s usually used as a noun in mathematics.
A fragmented/broken/splintering/maybe even shattering or/exploding ferocity.
It’s less about what it means, and more about what it evokes. Plus, the alliteration is just delicious :)
my fic has become a monster. It’s about 18,000 words long and FAR from finished. This is officially the longest thing I’ve ever written, even if it’s mostly crap. I’m glad to see that I can actually do it and write something that is longer than a single paragraph. Working out the problems I have with plot through it too. Which is good. But seriously, 18,000 words. I’m impressed with myself, even if it’s not that quality.
that annoying moment when you’re finally, finally, writing and it’s going well, and the words are flowing and you’re on fire and then you realized you forgot to do a very important errand and you need to leave right now if you want to make it to the store in time and why why why.
New hobby: recording podfics. It’s hard, and I really have to work on my accent. But it’s also challenging and fun. And time-consuming. Taking a break now. Recorded for an hour, to realize there was something wrong with it. Have to start all over again. Will write a bit of my fic instead.
So, um, I’m writing a Christmas scene in my story, and now I only want snow and winter and carols and pine needles and little colourful lights and do you think people will notice if I go cut the tree on the street corner and smuggle it into my apartment? Surely, that’s a perfectly normal desire for July. Surely.
you wear a lot of black, smoke cigarettes, drink wine and overuse words like ‘comeuppance’ and ‘serendipitous’?
But seriously, you don’t. You don’t write like me. You write like you. Beside, please do not take me as a model for anything, I’m really not that great or even good, and I’m struggling too much to be any kind of help.
“fractal ferocity" is one of the most beautiful combination of words I have come across so far in my life. I can taste it so vividly. It speaks to me and I don’t know why and I desperately wished I was the one who had written it. But alas, I can only come up with senseless and weak attempts in return.
I don’t know. I can’t ever decide what is a genuine memory and what is something I’ve sorta ‘remembered’ by seeing pictures or having my parents tell me about it. I have flashes of early memories, but I can never really know what age I was, or what came before one thing or another. It’s more a little jumble of feelings and images and sensory memories of early childhood all mixed up together.
Can't we just collect pretty things without it being about whether we're satisfied with our lives/ourselves or not?
Well, yes. I imagine so. But I always like to question things. Why do I like these things? Why these and not other? Why don’t I like the same things I liked a year ago? Nothing really happens in a vacuum.
*shrugs* but then again, sometimes we just do things because we feel like it, not more or less.
“Curation” does imply something far more deliberate than these inspiration blogs, whose very point is to put the viewer into an aesthetic reverie unencumbered by thought or analysis. These sites are not meant (as curation is) to make us more conscious, but less so. That might be O.K., but it also means they have a lot more in common with advertising than they do with curation. After all, advertising trains us to keep our desire always at the ready, nurturing that feeling that something is missing, then redirecting it toward a tangible product. In the end, all that pent-up yearning needs a place to go, and now it has that place online. But products are no longer the point. The feeling is the point. And now we can create that feeling for ourselves, then pass it around like a photo album of the life we think we were meant to have but don’t, the people we think we should be but aren’t.
what about that story about the two teenage boys? will you ever post that one here? because i would love to read that one.
Probably not, because it’s a fanfic :) I’m still working on it, though I haven’t written in a week or so because I was on vacation. Adding to it today though. But yeah. It’s a fanfic, so I will probably not post it here.
Still working on an original story about two girls though (Rose and Georgia). Having problems with it, but I love the characters too much to give up. If it’s not too crappy I will post it here when I’m done.