Making Future Magic: iPad light painting from Dentsu London on Vimeo.
Canon Pixma: Bringing colour to life from Dentsu London on Vimeo.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Howdy, y'all...
It's been a while since I actually posted anything that was similar to a blog; my life's been complicated, putting it mildly. My Mom's at the vaguely neurotic stage of her pregnancy, on-and-off-at-the-same-freaking-time first semi-steady girl is being just that, a "close" friend ended up not being quite so close, a friend who's actually my sister's pissed at me about the existence of said girl (she's a precognate -I'm normally a skeptic but she's very accurate - and it apparently won't end nicely), and I've been grounded for the first time in my life. Emo cat goez to find hiz emo corner.
Lol, in other - much more pleasant - news, I haz made a hat of ozzumness!!!! I've been crocheting for a while, but I've finally made a really cool hat I like wearing. Now I'm gonna try the Doctor Who Scarf.... See ya in fourteen years.
I'll see if I can send some pics of my HoOz later.
As ever,
The Stockton Eccentric
It's been a while since I actually posted anything that was similar to a blog; my life's been complicated, putting it mildly. My Mom's at the vaguely neurotic stage of her pregnancy, on-and-off-at-the-same-freaking-time first semi-steady girl is being just that, a "close" friend ended up not being quite so close, a friend who's actually my sister's pissed at me about the existence of said girl (she's a precognate -I'm normally a skeptic but she's very accurate - and it apparently won't end nicely), and I've been grounded for the first time in my life. Emo cat goez to find hiz emo corner.
Lol, in other - much more pleasant - news, I haz made a hat of ozzumness!!!! I've been crocheting for a while, but I've finally made a really cool hat I like wearing. Now I'm gonna try the Doctor Who Scarf.... See ya in fourteen years.
I'll see if I can send some pics of my HoOz later.
As ever,
The Stockton Eccentric
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Hey everybody;
This is a project I'm working on for spanish class; :P yes I'm going to translate it into spanish before I turn it in.
Hope you like it,
The Stockton Eccentric
This is a project I'm working on for spanish class; :P yes I'm going to translate it into spanish before I turn it in.
Hope you like it,
The Stockton Eccentric
This was a day in October, a bit of a soup-eating, tea-drinking day; enough wind that any rain there was drove sideways, but with so little moisture that you merely had the vague impression that someone was spitting at you from across the universe. Once in a while, it would rain, in a sprinkle of texture like noise in an ancient cathode ray tube television… but mostly it was clouds trying to play chicken, losing on account of intangibility. The trees were dancing in the wind, thrumming with the multitude of miniature collisions of the damp leaves; they resembled a slightly drier version of kelp, spiraling in currents of air, mackintosh-wearing fish ducking under its branches to avoid the rain, ineffectually.
The world was green and grey; the air, the sky, the trees, the wind, the rain, the people, the words, the ideas; everything was one or the other, or both. A Mediterranean world, so used to its adobe and tarmac, brown lawns and chain link fences, the layer of invisible ocher dust that drifted over everything and made it all dingy by association; a rusted eddy, rinsed clean by the wave of the mini monsoon that autumn had brought, brings, will bring until the weather systems are thrown completely of its course by human incompetence. It was strange; it was exhilarating; it was beautiful.
It was chilled, but being the first time in six months that anyone could remember feeling anything but roasted, no one held that against it; they still had the oppressive heat of the summer emerging from their skin, effervescing from their bones. It was good weather for soup, and poetry, and viola, if the person involved happened to enjoy that sort of thing. Otherwise – which was more often the case in that ghetto-celebrating chimera of cultures that someone had decided to call a city – they just bundled into their jackets and stuffed their IPod ear buds into their ears, attempting to ignore the maenad-like beauty that surrounded them.
And then there was me.
I was and am a plaid and corduroy figurine, too solidly built to be graceful or tossed in the gale; a bearded oval atop a flannel enshrouded rectangle with orthodontia, a stigma in one eye, and an over-large vocabulary. The semester had hit me with the curse of a dry spell in my mental functionality, which is like stealing the pajamas from a child watching their house burn to the ground; my mind is the only thing worth taking from me.
I had been sitting in the front room of our Nordic-Minimalist cookie cutter house, trying desperately to be alive, without success. I had been having dreams that seemed more real than my waking life in between them, to the point that I felt positively oneirataxical; though this has been how I’ve lived for years, it had been excessive for even my subconscious journeys.
I had decided to take a cue from the cats that lounge across our furniture and watch the windows shift in their glow, and live in silence for those few moments of respite from my schedule. In the grey of the sky I could almost feel my eyes fade to the yellow of the hattifnattarna of Finland, and my hands began to metamorphosize into their fronds, swaying to their hum of their apathy. With this attitude of emptiness, I left my cushion on the couch and found a spot next the black cat at the window, the pane shifted aside, a wall of black netting the only thing separating us from being outside.
We watched the rain. We watched the wind. We watched the silence; we watched in silence.
I was fixed into position by my fascination with those sounds, of oxygen, of chlorophyll, of hydrous hydroxide, the interaction of the atmosphere, of my sphere, of the ground and sky and every point of the compass rose…
I had found my slot; the spot that each person everyone was designed to be positioned inside of, an alcove in time and place where someone is home. Perhaps it was a rustle in the sleep of my dreams that makes my perspective of my everything. But time moves, and shifts with the motion of watch-hands and growing leaves and heaving oceans – and fleeing slots.
And I ended.
Not the me that I am, or will be, but the me that belonged precisely where and when it was; the me that is who I could be… And in a wash of confounding sentiment and confusing grammar, it left.
I still hear echoes of that moment, just like I feel the ramifications of the sunset of my mind. I feel it in the precognizant positioning of limbs and curtain of hair in the arms of someone I care for; I hear threads of its fabric in fleeting moments of déjà-vu; I smell it in the crispness between bursts of rain, or the scent of the salt wind blown across the hips of the forested hills. I haven’t forgotten it, but neither have I found it again.
And as I continue to survive, because I can do nothing else, I wait for it to find me even now.
Friday, September 3, 2010
To all you indie nuts out there, DIBS!!!! I have found the perfect woman: She likes Andrew Bird! (Not the only requirement for perfection, but outstanding extra credit)Spanish class got a lot more entertaining -not that it wasn't before- and a tenative ethic pic-nic-ing has been arranged. Happy. Dance. Moment.
In other news: School is driving me up the wall! Pablo Neruda is the poet of the century! Delta administration is corrupt! It's freakin' hard to get people to join the writers' guild! It's a lot less hard to find Novices for the order of the mundial DM in the Mini-cult of Kajir Mellor!
(Wait... was any of that actually news?)
Our media center has expanded; and I say that with the same tone as Alexander probably had writing home to his mother when he said "the Greek empire is a little bit bigger now..." Due to the Embarazadaness of mi Madre, she has been polarized: frequently illogical and hormonal, but relatively docile the rest of the time (belive me, part ii is un-us-u-allll); thuss, pater has had some fun pushing through some items that have been on his agenda for nigh on ten years.
Item A: Big screen tv
Holy Freakin' Toledo!!! Epics of Epicness could be told about this! It's a samsung led 46", hd and 3-d capable... AND IT GOES ONLINE!!!!!
Item B: Blueray player
When cartoons look like reality, y'know you got HD... And it has netflicks too; perfect fir watching the Sainted Physician save the universe once again.
Item C: Orb Subwoofer
My dad is secretly a trunk-buster at heart, and believe me... this subwoofer could pump his heart for him. It's huge, beautiful, and audiophile-satisfactory.
Item D: The black box of awesomeness
I have some concept of what this does, and even less what it is. It's a two foot tall component-of-sexy-media-ness. It turn home-theater fans into technophiles.
Anyway, have to head out... Please don't drool on your keyboards on the way out!
As ever,
The Stockton Eccentric
In other news: School is driving me up the wall! Pablo Neruda is the poet of the century! Delta administration is corrupt! It's freakin' hard to get people to join the writers' guild! It's a lot less hard to find Novices for the order of the mundial DM in the Mini-cult of Kajir Mellor!
(Wait... was any of that actually news?)
Our media center has expanded; and I say that with the same tone as Alexander probably had writing home to his mother when he said "the Greek empire is a little bit bigger now..." Due to the Embarazadaness of mi Madre, she has been polarized: frequently illogical and hormonal, but relatively docile the rest of the time (belive me, part ii is un-us-u-allll); thuss, pater has had some fun pushing through some items that have been on his agenda for nigh on ten years.
Item A: Big screen tv
Holy Freakin' Toledo!!! Epics of Epicness could be told about this! It's a samsung led 46", hd and 3-d capable... AND IT GOES ONLINE!!!!!
Item B: Blueray player
When cartoons look like reality, y'know you got HD... And it has netflicks too; perfect fir watching the Sainted Physician save the universe once again.
Item C: Orb Subwoofer
My dad is secretly a trunk-buster at heart, and believe me... this subwoofer could pump his heart for him. It's huge, beautiful, and audiophile-satisfactory.
Item D: The black box of awesomeness
I have some concept of what this does, and even less what it is. It's a two foot tall component-of-sexy-media-ness. It turn home-theater fans into technophiles.
Anyway, have to head out... Please don't drool on your keyboards on the way out!
As ever,
The Stockton Eccentric
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
How d'y do, peoples who might ever happen to stumble across this blog in an attempt to find an odd man living in Stockton-on-Tees in Co. Cleveland. Good luck to you, I couldn't find him either.
Fall will/has/is fall/fallen/falling with a resounding thump, and my return to Delta was both enjoyable and hellish. Though I enjoy seeing my friends (roommates would be closer to the amount of time elapsed in each others presence, save we don't ACTUALLY live together), school would be more enjoyable if there was slightly less schooling involved. After a summer of swimming, sleeping, reading at an astounding rate, and winking at pretty girls -this last pastime being unfortunately less frequent than the others, seeing as I live in Stockton and not Galt- a return to the books seems cruel and unusual.
I am in a dilema that faces many gamers who enjoy it enough to be considered Gamers-in-spirit, yet don't have a console or laptop; Alienware or Asus?
Asus has been highly recommended to me, but I made the mistake of touching a Alienware.... I have been seduced by the sexiness of a laptop. I am weak.
Later on... hopefully sooner than my near-summer-long-hiatus... I will be posting awesome pictures (if somewhat illegal) of the construction going on near my house. The bes time to catch 'em is sunset... They've all gone to dinner and the lighting is fantastic.
Gotta Go!
The Stockton Eccentric
Fall will/has/is fall/fallen/falling with a resounding thump, and my return to Delta was both enjoyable and hellish. Though I enjoy seeing my friends (roommates would be closer to the amount of time elapsed in each others presence, save we don't ACTUALLY live together), school would be more enjoyable if there was slightly less schooling involved. After a summer of swimming, sleeping, reading at an astounding rate, and winking at pretty girls -this last pastime being unfortunately less frequent than the others, seeing as I live in Stockton and not Galt- a return to the books seems cruel and unusual.
I am in a dilema that faces many gamers who enjoy it enough to be considered Gamers-in-spirit, yet don't have a console or laptop; Alienware or Asus?
Asus has been highly recommended to me, but I made the mistake of touching a Alienware.... I have been seduced by the sexiness of a laptop. I am weak.
Later on... hopefully sooner than my near-summer-long-hiatus... I will be posting awesome pictures (if somewhat illegal) of the construction going on near my house. The bes time to catch 'em is sunset... They've all gone to dinner and the lighting is fantastic.
Gotta Go!
The Stockton Eccentric
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Andrew Bird » Cass McCombs from The Voice Project on Vimeo.
All right, so I wasn't going to post today, but there were these two beautiful videos from a peace movement called the Voice Project, who were inspired by the women of Uganda to create a "cover chain," hopefully stretching back around the world to the choirs there.
You see, the army in Uganda abducted children and husbands and forced them to rape, murder and pillage their own cities and families. Those who escaped and deserted into the bush were afraid to return to their families after the atrocities that they had committed; the women, the majority of whom are widows and rape victims living in internal displacement camps, reached out the only way they knew how... through song. They sang in the forest at the tops of their lungs, broadcast on radios, sang through megaphones, left cassettes where they could with one simple message: We forgive you. We love you. Come home.
This brought tears to my eyes, and also to the eyes of the people who started the mission. In the videos on the website, various artists - all of extremely high caliber - are invited to play the episode after their song had been performed. The group that they cover (and they get to choose) becomes the next group invited. The videos are posted, and sponsors, advertisers and donors all help to support the rebuilding of Uganda.
I found out about it through Andrew Bird's website, watched, and became addicted. His vid's up top, and Joe purdie's is below. Awesome.
LLAP
Stockton Eccentric
Joe Purdy » REM from The Voice Project on Vimeo.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Mechanical Anthrophage and Beautiful Music
I donated bloo-ood, I donated bloo-ood, and wasn't scared of the needle!
Okay, I'm actually not as scared of needles I like to claim to be; still, I was able to come through for a good cause and a good friend, so I'm feeling cocky for a good reason. Oh well, even my moments of egotism are tinged with self-analysis.. That's life in my head.
Went over to the SDA Academy where my friend Grace (see the thatothergrace blogspot) was coordinating a blood drive; not for a senior project of anything, it was just because "she's cool like dat." Anyway, I signed up and was sent back to my seat with a double-sided three-foot-long page of redundant bubbles making sure that my blood wouldn't kill someone. I could have told them that. In fact all of the questions could be asked in three questions: Do you have a blood disease? (I do not.) Do you have sex with people who could have HIV? (I'm a virgin.) Do you do drugs? (Except for Feta Cheese, the occasional rocky-road float, and Karen Gillan, I can claim no outstanding detrimental addictions.)
After the life-saving-yet-painfully-bureaucratic questions, they took me up in the van where they took my blood pressure, gave me a needle prick (no doubt to make sure I knew what was coming afterward), determined that I had heavy enough blood, and put me in a padded chair that made me think of straight-jackets. I had quite a bit of juvenile fun opening the window and pleading with my friends to save me from the organ harvesters; depressingly, no rescue attempt ensued.
Then came the main event: the mechanical vampire.
Up till then, I had no idea that while they were sucking necessary fluids from my body they would make me become a biological clock, but they gave me a foam ball to squeeze every five seconds; also, I was apparently so unworthy to touch the said ball that they triple wrapped in paper towels.
After marinating my arm with a suspiciously-barbeque-sauce-appearing iodine mixture, the goatee'd nurse brought out the Apparatus of Torture, Occasional Death and General Blood Sucking and got to work on my inner arm. The phlebotamist assigned to me was nice enough, though in all honesty I would have prefered the attractive female one; he was nice enough to lie to me and say that he would stick the device into my arm on the count of three... What he meant was "in the middle of the count of three."
All the same, I was pumping down and actually relaxed (as much as a medical vampire's victim really can be) chatting with my new-found friend Jared, laying in the booth across from me. It truly is astounding how quickly close bonds can be formed between two people being drained of their fluids together.
Anyway, went home, traded an hour and a half taking my minions to the park and pool for five bucks and computer time, and started surfing. It was then that I found my newest musical oneirataxical-point: Oren Lavie.
Okay, so when I first sat up and took notice of this awesome Israeli singer was his song "A Dance 'Round the Memory Tree" for one of the Narnia soundtracks... and yes, I put the song on repeat and played it for 48 hours straight, but I'm done with that (for now)... but after being able to find little else by him in the american system, ended up giving up in frustration. However, youtube was nice enough to catch my eye with his featured music video (the utterly brilliant "Her Morning Elegance") and re-send me to his website in search of more music.
"the road stretches on from unknown destinations/
across open streams/
through fields of carnations/
it enters a city, a building/
it stretches ahead/
it stops at his feet/
the feet of his bed//
"he's aware of a small inclination/
a dream in a dream/
he pays no attention/
oranges hover and faces all over he knows/
is how the dream goes//
"caught within a dream within a dream
a man within a man
caught within a thought within a thought
an ocean so deep
he will drown in his sleep"
Okay, I'm actually not as scared of needles I like to claim to be; still, I was able to come through for a good cause and a good friend, so I'm feeling cocky for a good reason. Oh well, even my moments of egotism are tinged with self-analysis.. That's life in my head.
Went over to the SDA Academy where my friend Grace (see the thatothergrace blogspot) was coordinating a blood drive; not for a senior project of anything, it was just because "she's cool like dat." Anyway, I signed up and was sent back to my seat with a double-sided three-foot-long page of redundant bubbles making sure that my blood wouldn't kill someone. I could have told them that. In fact all of the questions could be asked in three questions: Do you have a blood disease? (I do not.) Do you have sex with people who could have HIV? (I'm a virgin.) Do you do drugs? (Except for Feta Cheese, the occasional rocky-road float, and Karen Gillan, I can claim no outstanding detrimental addictions.)
After the life-saving-yet-painfully-bureaucratic questions, they took me up in the van where they took my blood pressure, gave me a needle prick (no doubt to make sure I knew what was coming afterward), determined that I had heavy enough blood, and put me in a padded chair that made me think of straight-jackets. I had quite a bit of juvenile fun opening the window and pleading with my friends to save me from the organ harvesters; depressingly, no rescue attempt ensued.
Then came the main event: the mechanical vampire.
Up till then, I had no idea that while they were sucking necessary fluids from my body they would make me become a biological clock, but they gave me a foam ball to squeeze every five seconds; also, I was apparently so unworthy to touch the said ball that they triple wrapped in paper towels.
After marinating my arm with a suspiciously-barbeque-sauce-appearing iodine mixture, the goatee'd nurse brought out the Apparatus of Torture, Occasional Death and General Blood Sucking and got to work on my inner arm. The phlebotamist assigned to me was nice enough, though in all honesty I would have prefered the attractive female one; he was nice enough to lie to me and say that he would stick the device into my arm on the count of three... What he meant was "in the middle of the count of three."
All the same, I was pumping down and actually relaxed (as much as a medical vampire's victim really can be) chatting with my new-found friend Jared, laying in the booth across from me. It truly is astounding how quickly close bonds can be formed between two people being drained of their fluids together.
Anyway, went home, traded an hour and a half taking my minions to the park and pool for five bucks and computer time, and started surfing. It was then that I found my newest musical oneirataxical-point: Oren Lavie.
Okay, so when I first sat up and took notice of this awesome Israeli singer was his song "A Dance 'Round the Memory Tree" for one of the Narnia soundtracks... and yes, I put the song on repeat and played it for 48 hours straight, but I'm done with that (for now)... but after being able to find little else by him in the american system, ended up giving up in frustration. However, youtube was nice enough to catch my eye with his featured music video (the utterly brilliant "Her Morning Elegance") and re-send me to his website in search of more music.
"the road stretches on from unknown destinations/
across open streams/
through fields of carnations/
it enters a city, a building/
it stretches ahead/
it stops at his feet/
the feet of his bed//
"he's aware of a small inclination/
a dream in a dream/
he pays no attention/
oranges hover and faces all over he knows/
is how the dream goes//
"caught within a dream within a dream
a man within a man
caught within a thought within a thought
an ocean so deep
he will drown in his sleep"
The amazingness continues... but I have no time.
Adios, todos and LLAP
The Stockton Eccentric
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Who I am
Hello, young and perhaps-not-quite-so-very-young. I, due to the great wonders that cyber-stalkers can perform on one's daily life, do not plan to release my true identity. My gmail identity says that I am Sebastian Corlath; to borrow from an "earworm," "That's not my name." I have the great fun of being someone who lives in Stockton and actually has higher than a sixth grade vocabulary. This is a rare occurance in this lovely city, especially among my demographic, and nearly automatically ostracizes me from many among my generation.
I am an obsessive person; that's not a comment about my mental health, but merely about the fact that I can almost never stand being "sorta-into" something, be it music, genres, people, or alternate dimensions of peanut-butter.
Right now, some of my obsessions are:
Steampunk, Doctor Who, Vlogbrothers, Central-European Gypsy/Klezmer Rock, playing Hauntingly minor waltzes om my Ukulele, watching Macgyver, West Wing reruns, Leverage, or Chuck, the work of Neil Gaiman, the thought-echoing music of Andrew Bird, writing a manga/comic with my peep-in-crime Natalia, Mythology, parquor, Kaki King, Mork and Mindy, Electron Microscopy, Scottish Actors, ShakespearE, X-men, Daytrotter.com, and my Inability to kiss my elbow. Not that I'd generally want to, I just that the fact that I can't frustrates me.
I'm not the most good-looking guy, especially by today's standards; for some reason, I've never been able to achieve the anorexic fe-man (finding what my female friends say is nice clothing is also fairly impossible when you have extra-large shoulders, a medium waist, and no abs to speak of). My Greek genes have made facial hair growth at near-freakish speeds a normal thing - five a clock shadow? Please. It's eleven... - and I look like my Dad's not-so-mini me.
I'm addicted to music, and am only rarely without Uke, guitar, or I-pod. That's when I sing from my mental functions' sheer desperation.
Anyway, that's my Polaroid (wait, they phased out film, so that doesn't work... Gosh, that makes me feel old)... I hope I remember to post more stuff in the future.
LLAP
The Stockton Eccentric
I am an obsessive person; that's not a comment about my mental health, but merely about the fact that I can almost never stand being "sorta-into" something, be it music, genres, people, or alternate dimensions of peanut-butter.
Right now, some of my obsessions are:
Steampunk, Doctor Who, Vlogbrothers, Central-European Gypsy/Klezmer Rock, playing Hauntingly minor waltzes om my Ukulele, watching Macgyver, West Wing reruns, Leverage, or Chuck, the work of Neil Gaiman, the thought-echoing music of Andrew Bird, writing a manga/comic with my peep-in-crime Natalia, Mythology, parquor, Kaki King, Mork and Mindy, Electron Microscopy, Scottish Actors, ShakespearE, X-men, Daytrotter.com, and my Inability to kiss my elbow. Not that I'd generally want to, I just that the fact that I can't frustrates me.
I'm not the most good-looking guy, especially by today's standards; for some reason, I've never been able to achieve the anorexic fe-man (finding what my female friends say is nice clothing is also fairly impossible when you have extra-large shoulders, a medium waist, and no abs to speak of). My Greek genes have made facial hair growth at near-freakish speeds a normal thing - five a clock shadow? Please. It's eleven... - and I look like my Dad's not-so-mini me.
I'm addicted to music, and am only rarely without Uke, guitar, or I-pod. That's when I sing from my mental functions' sheer desperation.
Anyway, that's my Polaroid (wait, they phased out film, so that doesn't work... Gosh, that makes me feel old)... I hope I remember to post more stuff in the future.
LLAP
The Stockton Eccentric
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