21 April 2005

blogging,lunchtime, and strange submissions.

lunch hour. and Rebecca said something about going to my blog. then she mumbled something like "i'm in your blog....i'm eating my lunch" and i said "i didn't blog about you eating lunch!!"
and then i realized she was talking about real life.
eating lunch in real life.
right now. as we were talking.

the other day as i was trying to demonstrate something on another laptop, i grabbed Michael's cellphone and started rubbing it on the desk whilst staring at the screen, thinking it was a mouse.

i've obviously very ill.

moving on, of course... i found out later on today about Gerald Wallace Goode, an elderly gentleman who has been submitting cut up polaroids and strange tidbits of writing to Brick for 20 years. just these strange little prose pieces with sentences like "a paramount rule for us writers is to avoid being a hack and i might have broken that rule by allowing myself to get carried away by a bunch of stones stacked together as they are in that remote section of land". In issue 73 the fair editors gave this gentleman a colour insert with a collection of his strange obscure blurry polaroids of barber shopfronts and distant buildings. the polaroids look like fragments of glass that have been finely polished and washed up by the ocean, with strange remnants of other worlds inside them.

as we opened up Mister Goode's submissions file to rifle through it for a moment Rebecca suddenly exclaimed. "he's gotten a computer! oh my god! have you seen this? he's gotten a computer! his last submission is from a computer!" it seems for the past 19 years his submissions have been from an old manual typewriter, and somehow this very old man has made the leap.

it's at this juncture that i feel the need to quote Brick quoting Rainer Maria Rilke (dear Dear Blessed (thumpa thumpa) Rilke):

"Works of art are of an infinite loneliness and with nothing to be so little appreciated as with criticism. Only love can grasp and hold and fairly judge them".

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