Logic, of a sort.

my toaster oven is confused. The upside down stop makes it go.

Graffiti Mantra

excellent to say in times of stress.

Think Before You Speak

I really like this campaign. A pet peeve of mine, admirably expressed.

Interesting things I learned while studying:

A lateral line is a gland on the side of a fish that measures pressure.
At rest humans give off about the same amount of warmth as a hundred watt bulb.
So dancing, I'm probably about half a kettle.
So two people dancing could probably give off enough heat to make a cup of tea. If they didn't sweat... and danced really close... with the tea inbetween them... and didn't spill it.

Dance of Dignity and Disinterest

I get annoyed with palpable disinterest. I have slighter and smaller objections to forthright rudeness. "I don't like you, please stop talking to me." hurts my feelings, yes, but at least I know where I stand. The dance of one word answers frustrates me and makes my blood boil. Because it puts me in a bind. As I see it, my options are:
a) civilly ask the person outright what the hell is going on. Unfortunately, this makes me sound a little paranoid and needy.
b) get mad at the person and call them out for being so cowardly rude. Unfortunately, this makes me seem somewhat psycho.
c) ignore the person, dismiss them from my mind and never contact them again. Unfortunately this means I may be unwarrantably discarding a valuable friendship.
Surely there is an better option: d)?
Another thought occurs to me which is try c) and if they never contact me again, they weren't a friend to begin with and so their loss from my life is no loss.
I must walk this thought into my brain more firmly.

Slight of Hand

Some sad sob story I am,
Soaked and used by some slick sam.
The trouble is I fall for scoundrels,
I applaud their every trick,
even when I'm left with the linty end of the lollipop stick.
Like magicians, I watch in wonder
As they hold the queen of hearts
Vanishing the cards that were on the table,
'Till the reality of the world seems unstable,
I admire them with a beating heart.

nuit blanche

A sleepless night of wandering about looking at artwork. Some of my favorite things weren't the installments but the people going by. Mimes on bicycles, ghosts dancing on street corners, a brigade of clowns in crinolines, and zombies with blood on their faces that had wandered from their latest kill.
Here's the ghost:




and a few other pictures:






(everyone who went through this doorway vanished. It was very odd...)

The man in the black jacket had arrived from Manitoba that day, with no idea of what nuit blanche was, or that it was happening, so he was wandering in wonder in a city filled with art work. What a beautiful coincidence.