May 2002 Archives

Back to my own machine again. It's a little like moving into an empty house. (After the moving van lost all your books and pictures.) Rattling around here. I know I'll settle in, but at the moment I'm oddly lonely without all my digital stuff.

Group action works! The Verisign google-bombing has had some effect after three weeks. All the links put in by outraged web loggers have brought the story into the top 25 listings for Verisign on Google. Verisign. Verisign. Verisign. (Just doing my bit.)

Looking for something to read? Try this anthology... I've downloaded it, but clearly it's better read on paper than on screen.

I'm finding so many new writers with voices I trust and enjoy on line. Web logs mean I don't miss my lapsed magazine subscriptions. I tell myself I'll save the money for books, and the morning paper - which is still better fun in print than online, even if my wireless laptop connection lets me drink coffee and check the headlines in bed.

(Blogger gets buggy if I try to post more than a tiny screenful at once - so I've had to break the following entry into three mini-posts.)

Dug in the garden after dinner until it was too dark to see what I was doing. Now my hands are creased with dirt, nails lined with soil. But I planted most of what I gathered from the plant swap on Saturday, and it will get rained on tomorrow and have a few days to settle in before the hot weather comes back.

Then I wandered around on the web for a while. Wound up at the gallery of examples of DeCSS - the code for disabling the encryption of DVDs. The examples explore the boundary between the "executable code" which was determined to be illegal in a court decision, and descriptions of that code - in many media and genres (t-shirts, animations, squaredance calls) - which fall under first amendment protection. My favorite of these examples was an anonymous epic in haiku stanzas. I skimmed the code, and enjoyed the verse.

From there I was moved to read some Coleridge. (Since the big crash, I tell everyone to back up their data, and a friend today compared me to the ancient mariner.) And then for fun I found some A.E. Housman, in order to read the lines surrounding the old favorites:

...malt does more than Milton can
to justify God's ways to man.

(And if I'd had beer and not coffee after dinner, I'd be asleep by now...)

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Hard drive crashed and gone. CD drive ditto. Borrowed computers, like borrowed clothes, don't quite fit.

So much work in progress... all lost. I'll reconstruct what I can and give up on the rest. Let it go.

It's been five days. I'll have my own machine back by sometime close to the end of next week. I hope. In the meantime, I have gotten a new notebook to sketch and scribble in.

I wasn't at this party, but...

What is it about explaining your life, your choices in a culture that doesn't recognize you?

As picnic season approaches, here's a great recycling project - from, of all places, the New York Times. Plastic bottles become glasses, with a sharp knife, scissors, and imagination. The more unusual the bottle, the cooler the glass. The bottom half of the bottle becomes a tumbler, the top, a goblet. Students at Design Academy Eindhoven in the Netherlands created a great collection of them for a show of student work at the International Furniture Fair in Milan.

Internet activism: the Verisign vs. Leslie Harpold outrage. I've been following the story on Textism and in other logs. Verisign seems completely in the wrong here, since they sold Hoopla.com, Leslie's domain name, right out from under her. It had not expired - they just sold it anyway. Hope that Google-bombing Verisign has some effect.

Went around the corner to see "Mayfly: Hello Love, Goodbye -- I'm Dead!" at the Dance Alloy. To have work that good going on right in our back pocket... mmm.

A great day. I had time to work and play with my own video in the morning, and then ate lunch in the back yard with laughing children, then a birthday/Cinco de Mayo party, and then Mayflies, and then home.

Ben has just started his own journal on line. He says he needs to do more writing for school: dreams, poems, and stories. If his teacher doesn't want to follow it on line, he can print it up for her every so often. I know I'm going to have fun reading it.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." I've seen that sentence attributed to Gustav Holst and also to H. L. Mencken. So I guess it's worth quoting badly, too. I find that unless I get into a project and begin messing around, I don't make any work, let alone good work. And I don't learn anything new. All this by way of saying that I've switched templates for this page twice in the past 48 hours and have come back to the version I started with.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." I've seen that sentence attributed to Gustav Holst and also to H. L. Mencken. So I guess it's worth quoting badly, too. I find that unless I get into a project and begin messing around, I don't make any work, let alone good work. And I don't learn anything new. All this by way of saying that I've switched templates for this page twice in the past 48 hours and have come back to the version I started with.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." I've seen that sentence attributed to Gustav Holst and also to H. L. Mencken. So I guess it's worth quoting badly, too. I find that unless I get into a project and begin messing around, I don't make any work, let alone good work. And I don't learn anything new. All this by way of saying that I've switched templates for this page twice in the past 48 hours and have come back to the version I started with.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." I've seen that sentence attributed to Gustav Holst and also to H. L. Mencken. So I guess it's worth quoting badly, too. I find that unless I get into a project and begin messing around, I don't make any work, let alone good work. And I don't learn anything new. All this by way of saying that I've switched templates for this page twice in the past 48 hours and have come back to the version I started with.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." I've seen that sentence attributed to Gustav Holst and also to H. L. Mencken. So I guess it's worth quoting badly, too. I find that unless I get into a project and begin messing around, I don't make any work, let alone good work. And I don't learn anything new. All this by way of saying that I've switched templates for this page twice in the past 48 hours and have come back to the version I started with.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." I've seen that sentence attributed to Gustav Holst and also to H. L. Mencken. So I guess it's worth quoting badly, too. I find that unless I get into a project and begin messing around, I don't make any work, let alone good work. And I don't learn anything new. All this by way of saying that I've switched templates for this page twice in the past 48 hours and have come back to the version I started with.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." I've seen that sentence attributed to Gustav Holst and also to H. L. Mencken. So I guess it's worth quoting badly, too. I find that unless I get into a project and begin messing around, I don't make any work, let alone good work. And I don't learn anything new. All this by way of saying that I've switched templates for this page twice in the past 48 hours and have come back to the version I started with.

"Mrs. Kim has dinner-party diners sign the white cloth that sets the table. She embroiders the signatures into the cloth as documentary art of her evening's entertainment, using the cloth again for her next party." Don't miss this William Hamilton story in today's N.Y. Times...

Here we are. It's May. The month of permission. May I? May 1. A good time for exploration, chance-taking, and new ideas. I have more projects than hours, of course, and more daydreams than resources, but dreams have a way of taking shape unexpectedly. Look at this for one. . .

here:

near:

my work elsewhere:

my work for sale:

beside myself:

a mini blog made of my recent bookmarks (via del.icio.us)

monthly archives:

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