The Piecemeal Man (abmann) wrote,
The Piecemeal Man

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Sap-bearing fruit.

What to say? There are words forming phrases in my thinkmeats - "meat space cogitation" for one - which isn't all together a bright thing. For the record I love "thinkmeats" and damn_robots for telling it to me. I do not, however, hold love for "there are" as a way to start a sentence. "There are" is one of those nebulous creations of independently poor minds, yet I've just (on a technicality) used the phrase to begin a sentence again.

Generality is bane, if not anathema, to myself the writer but a great tool of me, the artist. I cannot reconcile the two. In my last piece, which has recieved excellent reviews from you, heartful readers, as well as others who's journals may yet grace my friends list. Words on art are anathema to "writer" and a cheap trick for "artist."

Writer says, "words are tool of the deeply (blank)ical mind - be it philosophical, theoretical, poetical, etc. No fanciful purveyor graphical (not a good [blank]ical by any means) arts are not grounded. Their roots are fragmented much as their mind, akin to schizophrenia.

Artist retorts, "But it looks fucking cool!" followed by a rather long string of curses and generally irate words that fall flat on writer's ears.

You see, waht I'm trying to say is that combining the two kills writer. The words lose so much meaning such that they really only add visual element to something already predominately visual. The words become "there are words" rather than
"these words are" - the more specific delineator of presence and meaning.

In the war of writer and artist, writer cannot win. These words are especially sad given the trend away from memory to writen word society. If words no longer hold sway, eoither we all become artists or become dumb (this is exaggeration, although thecoweyed may agree). We may regress large brow and painting figures with charcoal because artist is winning. Then only remains "there are people" rather than "these people are."

    On to the norm :)

My day has ended rightly. Work was long, but eventually things worked out. I dive into I/O psych (aka usability - but I prefer to keep some semblance of my degree in the name). I purchased The Design of Everyday Things at Borders much to my dismay, as I have a membership card to B&N. Plus, B&N actually knew that this book is about science (if not social) whereas Borders though it part of Art/Photography. The hell? Regardless, the last copy in either store - if not the city - is in my grubby hand along with a copy of The Evolution of Useful Things by Henry Petroski. The former a systematic decent into the psychology of design with emphasis on modern technolog and the latter about how cool things like paperclips came about (the answer is "frustration").

These shall prove excellent resources and fun reads - perchance tax deductable since I bought them more for work than myself. The purchase of said tools was followed closely by dinner at >a href="">Atlanta Bread</a> on University Ave. Free wireless - I forgot my blasted iBook - and a Loaf of Chili. The Chili was ok and the Bread moderately spongey, but the live music? Excellent. Also the cute goth chick that took my order was hitting on me, or one assumes so with the smile she gave me. As well this was followed closely by two UW students winking at me when they sat down near me. While biased do to women, my impression of Atlanta Bread is good - and I owe much gratitude to assfingers for telling me about their Loaf of Chili[this link has php and may not work](so much gratitude that I may lose my membership to grayeisgod :)).

I returned, fed the cats and am now degating reading books or sitting on LJ in the silence and watching the stream - what I used to call sitting in MSN ChatChicago as I watched the sexual innuendo and strange comraderie go by. We shall see. Suffice it to say, I am content and weirdly contemplative among other more base emotions.

Lets find some links for this entry shall we? If I don't, I may have to change the name from "Infonography."

Whispering Nightmare

What sort of Nightmare are you?
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and I stole the quiz from kirstygold


Sometimes you just gotta get those images out of your head. Less art - becaues it took like 15 minutes to make. Seems to "easy" to be artistic. Kinda weird image that I couldn't get out of my head.

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