The Whole Ball of Wax

27 Apr 2013

Watch this and learn stuff about Chicago! 

If you want. No one’s making you do anything. Yet.

21 Apr 2013

descepter:

How The Face Changes With Shifting A Light Source

Sparkles and Wine

It’s an awesome video that’s sort of a re-imagining of the L’Enfer lighting effect by Henri-Georges Clouzout. It’s crazy to see the differences in lighting positions and the type of tone and emotion it can convey depending on that position.

14 Mar 2013

26 Feb 2013

Sleepyhead (acoustic extended) // Passion Pit

10 Dec 2012

laughingsquid:

Airport Virtual Assistant Hologram at Newark Liberty International Airport

So, if I claim Specter status, will she be able to tell me more about the Citadel?

25 Nov 2012

dysphorism:

superscarymonsters:

trans-par-en-cy:

this took forever but it’s TRANSPARENT now :)

THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU.

this would have taken like 3 years

dysphorism:

superscarymonsters:

trans-par-en-cy:

this took forever but it’s TRANSPARENT now :)

THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU.

this would have taken like 3 years

(Source: trans-par-en-cy)

16 Nov 2012

mariisolaa:

I went to Uncharted Books yesterday with a purpose: I was going to find…erm, well, I actually don’t remember what I wanted to find. And that’s exactly the problem I was having yesterday. Memory of a goldfish… 
Since I couldn’t remember what I wanted, and the books I had picked were difficult to choose from, I started to run my fingers over the bindings. I wasn’t even reading the titles, I just wanted to see if anything felt nice enough to pull off the shelf (I know, that’s a terrible way to choose a book, but I’m not picky about what I read). While doing this I found a hard cover book with soft, pink binding; it felt nice. I took a step back to try to decide whether I wanted to take a closer look and saw a piece of paper coming out of the top. Once I saw that paper it was impossible to leave the book alone so I picked it up and the above envelope is what I found. In case you can’t read it, this is what it says:

A Tantrum for dry times
How I’d like to take all of Buster Keaton’s irresponsilbe boats,tie them in a row of Christmas popcorn-thread, & withflip of my wrist — whip them clear aroundthe tip of Tierra del Fuegoand watch ‘em scatter across the Pacific.
The boat of big men beholdento their pocketwatches:‘saddle up to the bar, slap down %5 for stout and…whoops!Harpo’s snipped yer bloated pockets.’
The don’t change directions now boat:cop to the left, cop at the sterncop at your toes, cops keeping holdof the vote —up that telephone pole boy!
The boat of moustached monkeys‘now for the rambunctious songs.’
The boat of daring leaps:‘no time to count the stars,much less your fingers.’
Boat for pork-pie hats:‘If you don’t have a crank camerascratch up a vaudeville,no vaudeville? — beg an avalanche PARADE,still stuck? dig around the ashtray — perhaps:a poem.
SSsshh.One boat to pop Japan like a pillow balloon,one to turn Australia on its axis,one to sprinkle Phillipines all over sticky south India,one merely to mystify Kowloon wedding photos,and one for tickling the Chinese dumpling seller.
Would that that perturb the neat hear-neo lap-top times.

I tried to write it just as it is on the envelope, I made no changes to the spelling or words. I don’t know what any of it really means, why it was written, who it was written by, or whether it has anything to do with the book but it’s there. And it’s really cool that I found it. Wholeballofwax claims that this will be the book to change my life and the owner at Uncharted said he’s never read anything like it, hopefully he meant it in a good way, so I guess we’ll see. For now, I’m excited to read it and to share this find with you. 
By the way, the book is Landscape Painted with Tea by Milorad Pavic.



I’m telling you Marysol. Life. Changing. Poetry. And stories. Gotta love indie bookstores.

mariisolaa:

I went to Uncharted Books yesterday with a purpose: I was going to find…erm, well, I actually don’t remember what I wanted to find. And that’s exactly the problem I was having yesterday. Memory of a goldfish… 

Since I couldn’t remember what I wanted, and the books I had picked were difficult to choose from, I started to run my fingers over the bindings. I wasn’t even reading the titles, I just wanted to see if anything felt nice enough to pull off the shelf (I know, that’s a terrible way to choose a book, but I’m not picky about what I read). While doing this I found a hard cover book with soft, pink binding; it felt nice. I took a step back to try to decide whether I wanted to take a closer look and saw a piece of paper coming out of the top. Once I saw that paper it was impossible to leave the book alone so I picked it up and the above envelope is what I found. In case you can’t read it, this is what it says:

A Tantrum for dry times

How I’d like to take all of
Buster Keaton’s irresponsilbe boats,
tie them in a row of Christmas popcorn-thread, & with
flip of my wrist — whip them clear around
the tip of Tierra del Fuego
and watch ‘em scatter across the Pacific.

The boat of big men beholden
to their pocketwatches:
‘saddle up to the bar, slap down %5 for stout and…whoops!
Harpo’s snipped yer bloated pockets.’

The don’t change directions now boat:
cop to the left, cop at the stern
cop at your toes, cops keeping hold
of the vote —
up that telephone pole boy!

The boat of moustached monkeys
‘now for the rambunctious songs.’

The boat of daring leaps:
‘no time to count the stars,
much less your fingers.’

Boat for pork-pie hats:
‘If you don’t have a crank camera
scratch up a vaudeville,
no vaudeville? — beg an avalanche
PARADE,
still stuck? dig around the
ashtray — perhaps:
a poem.

SSsshh.
One boat to pop Japan like a pillow balloon,
one to turn Australia on its axis,
one to sprinkle Phillipines all over sticky south India,
one merely to mystify Kowloon wedding photos,
and one for tickling the Chinese dumpling seller.

Would that that perturb the neat
hear-neo lap-top times.

I tried to write it just as it is on the envelope, I made no changes to the spelling or words. I don’t know what any of it really means, why it was written, who it was written by, or whether it has anything to do with the book but it’s there. And it’s really cool that I found it. Wholeballofwax claims that this will be the book to change my life and the owner at Uncharted said he’s never read anything like it, hopefully he meant it in a good way, so I guess we’ll see. For now, I’m excited to read it and to share this find with you. 

By the way, the book is Landscape Painted with Tea by Milorad Pavic.

I’m telling you Marysol. Life. Changing. Poetry. And stories. Gotta love indie bookstores.

21 Sep 2012

Island Flying Dream

This is a dream I had a long while ago that I just didn’t take the time to write out:

I’m walking on an island. There’s lush, green grass covering the ground and natural stone steps are scattered.

The edges of the island seem to end suddenly; it’s a tall cliff, completely surrounded by water.

I’m somehow familiar with my surroundings, yet I know this place isn’t real. There are people walking around with backpacks and books. I know it’s a college campus. I can see buildings that reflect the sky on every which side.

There are people throwing Frisbees, playing softball, and eating brown-bag lunches, everyone is legitimately happy and having a great time. I look up to the sky and see power lines (I estimate in my head) 500+ feet in the air. I can’t see the poles they’re connected to. They’re simply suspended in the air, hidden among clouds.

Then, I see something that doesn’t make sense to me. Like, at all. There are Xbox 360s with little helicopter propellers attached to the top of them flying around. There are probably over fifty. In place of it’s large front facing power button, there’s a large red eye that looks somewhat like Hal from 2001: Space Odyssey

I see one flying a little low and coming in my direction. I anticipate it’s speed and jump up to grab it as it flies overhead. I grip hard to make sure I don’t fall, and the helicopter Xbox start to fly straight up at an incredible speed. I start to freak out a little. My fingers angled to the top of the flying game system pull down harder and it flies up harder. I figure this out, so I stop pulling down as hard. The box-chopper (that’s what I’ll call it I guess) slows, stops ascending, and simply hovers in place.

I’m now about twenty feet above the power lines that I had previously guessed to be 500 sum feet in the air, but I’m not freaked out any more. The clouds part a bit and I still can’t see where the power lines are connected to, but I can see the entire cliff that is this island. And it’s beautiful. The only thing I can think of (in-dream) is, “Fuck yea. I’m flying”

I ease my grip on the box-chopper and it begins to descend. I’ve somehow figured how to feel-out the necessary grip control to fly this weird ass thing and I’m zooming all over the island with it. I pass just over a group of people walking to one of the reflective classroom buildings and the air from the propellers blows their hair in all directions. 

I go over the edge of the cliff and point the box-chopper straight down. I look at the vertical rock face zoom past me like a treadmill. Just about ten feet above the water below, I swing the box-chopper back up, stop, and continue to fly next to the cliff sides, circling the island. 

It was at this point in the dream where it was no longer my first person perspective. I now was a cinematic camera following me as I flew around the island. The camera zooms into the red eye of the box-chopper and it turns into a screen showing video playback. It’s the feed from the Xbox I’m using to fly. A few security guards come over to the monitor, look at the video, and then look to one another, confused as to why that camera is where it is. 

The dream ends. I’ve kind of really wanted an Xbox-helicopter since experience. Oh my subconscious, how I love you so.

4 Jul 2012