Thanks, Thom.

We loved each other so much that sometimes it hurt, even when we were close. I wanted to be her and she wanted to be me. Sex never felt complete, and afterwards we talked carelessly about easy subjects to avoid discussing the ache that bruised us both. So one day, in the kitchen, she cut me and I cut her; gently, slowly, too easily. It was the knife we used for onions and our tears were painful but expectant. We dripped the blood into coffee mugs, then bandaged up and went to bed. We fucked and there were stars but we saw different constellations. The next day the blood was dry and rusty in the mugs. We scraped it diligently onto sheets of paper. We looked at each other silently and lowered our heads to snort each other's dust. Afterwards we both carried a pouch of powdered blood, and when we were low and apart we would retire to a restroom and sniff, sniff, sniff. Oh my darling, we went on and on. Our blood was there always, red and viscous, burnt ochre and blowaway. My blood in your nasal membranes, filtering into your capillaries, finding its inexorable way to your heart. Your blood. My nose. My heart. We belonged to each other and we had made our love tangible, real; something that could be weighed and consumed, taken and enjoyed. It wasn't a surprise when we used the scalpel to shave flesh from each other's upper arms. We dried the flesh, though it was difficult to dessicate it completely. We used the airing cupboard. The powdered flesh was better ; cocaine to blood's speed. Did it end badly? Did we go too far? Was our love replaced or deleted by want or need? In losing ourselves in each other did we lose the essence in ourselves that the other loved? Did time simply bore us with its slow wearing-down? I have no answers to any of those questions. But now, sitting here in the kitchen, I admit I am scared of the knife, that I can't dig deeply enough to draw blood, that I will have nothing in the morning but red, raised scratches on my arm. I don't want her to cut me. Did we kill each other, or are we living happily; but only as happily as you are?

Let there be lamp!

These are a few pictures taken of one of my mock lamp shades that I will be revising for the finial project.

Esbjörn Svensson Trio - Goldhearted Miner

It's official. Thanksgiving is over, we've survived the annual mini-apocalypse that is Black Friday, and in the process of making casual conversation and grinning through forced social interactions probably gained 3 pounds, because everyone knows that a conversation with your mother's second cousin is much less awkward with a mouth full of crackers and not-quite-bite-sized cubed cheese.

With the holiday season in full swing we are all soon to be subject

to the bitterness of the winter season

sales clerks and brawling in the isles

of Target over the last box of matte red christmas tree bulbs.

In spite of all the dull and dreary

the carbon stained slush thats soon to accumulate in the streets

staining the entryway rug,

the bitterness of the cold, likely radiating from the souls of the sales clerks and icy exhalation of those corporate bastards breathing down your neck

whispering 'buy more,'

gusting at 40 miles an hour and penetrating your flimsy fleece jacket,

there is light other than that of the tacky christmas bulbs,

Sears 25% off,

and there is a warmth that will penetrate your mind, body and soul,

even if frozen solid.

Finally Finished

E-X-P-A-N-D as captured by The University of Kansas. This photo can also be seen on The University of Kansas Facebook page under the Campus Word Art Album.

Great Job Team!

Almost Done!

Yesterday, all the groups set up their words around campus. Our word (Expand) was placed in front of strong hall. The 'E' 'X' on the south side of the sidewalk, the 'P' 'A' elevated on the bench that holds the Jayhawk statue and the 'N' 'D' on the north side of the Strong Hall sidewalk. Our placement, and timing was great. Our word was bold and its horizontal orientation paralleled the long windows that stretch across the front of Strong Hall. Also, the sun setting highlighted the white of our words making them stand out even more.

Although the end result seemed flawless, we had out fare share of crisis earlier that day. our photos were actually taken at the Oread Hotel and not in front Strong Hall. After spending all day sunday running back and forth to the Oread dragging our letters onto the elevators and on and off of balconies and rooftops Yvonne and I thought we had all the shots we needed, which was great because my efforts to hold down three foot tall letters in the 40 mph (I assume) gusts on top a roof were failing miserably. Happy with our results we promised to get out of the way of all the KU elite checking in and out of the Hotel. Little did we know some higher power was going to spite us the next day when Yvonne tried to upload the images. MEMORY CARD CORRUPT. WHAT!?...... crisis ensued.

Thankfully we rounded up Ashley to load the letters onto one of the busses and hauled it all back to the Oread. After bothering the deskies to reopen the rooms we needed ( aside from one because it was being occupied by what we speculated to be a couple here on a romantic KU escape due to the scattered rose petals we walked over the day before in our attempt to get out on the balcony). With some of the pictures retaken we rushed back to the design building to retouch and weight down out letters and set them up before the tour. DONE.

Now onto the book...

"What I Learned In School Today" seen above.

From the reading I learned valuable tips on how to focus, utilize close up shots, and how to find "nirvana" in a work whether it be by symmetry or asymmetry.

"X" Marks The Spot

In the process of constructing the prototype for the soon -to- be- six -foot- tall final letter, I managed to make a mess of the limited space I do have. On the plus side, it was only cardboard and I have put together a fairly solid "X."