Backrest

I had an idea for what I wanted to do for this challenge, and it wasn’t the below. I wanted to take a photo of my computer chair from above, but I couldn’t get a clean vantage point from a ladder, or from my bed. Bedroom is full of stuff.

This was taken from the bed, however. As I was trying to get an above shot I decided to put the camera close to the backrest to try and create a certain feel to the image. It didn’t quite work, but I did get something I thought would work.

As I was editing the photo I played around a bit with contrast and cropping, and decided to try and see what happened if I left only the backrest in, and the below is the result.

I think the  pattern isn’t anything amazing, but I still think it’s appealing. gets across a deceptive view of the backrest’s shape, and I think that’s due to the camera’s positioning.

This is my submission into Leanne Cole‘s “Monochrome Madness” for this week. This one is hosted by Brian of Bushboys World, and he has chosen the theme of “Chair or Chairs”.

This challenge is open to all, and I recommend joining in. If want to, check out more information about it here, and include the tag “monochrome-madness” when you share your photo. If you’d prefer not to join in, then at the least check out Leanne’s photography, and what other people submit.

I hope you enjoy.

Posted in Photography | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Masafumi Takada: Election Plot

One listen.

Jumped in, did it, jumped out. Not sure what I was going for, but I feel it works well for the song. I think it works really well.

Masafumi Takada’s (高田 雅史) “Election Plot” is from Killer7 Original Sound Track, the soundtrack for Killer7.

I hope you enjoy.

The beat echoes with steps and pauses, and it moves steady. It seems to not get closer and it continues to echo on out. A more rigid sound joins in, also echoing, but seemingly disembodied, and it moves in starts and stops, and raises into coldness. Cold and professional, perhaps.

More percussion comes in and suddenly much sound is right there, very present and very aware. Menace comes through these slightly distorted stabs, and it’s all sorts of forceful.

For a moment some of the sound pulls away, as if to let things linger and let things continue to walk on, and feelings drift across the slightly diminished space. Then that start / stop returns, and the sounds change again into something harder and colder. In a sense, more empty. More pressured and forcing, and with a certain intensity, or rather extremity.

Another change and the beat becomes, in a sense, more driven. It seems to be cut up and dropped in, but it’s also quite organically there, and the rhythm and flow of the sounds becomes even more obvious than it was before. The sounds are short and punctual, and some pull away, and things continue on as they wind down before suddenly stopping at the song’s end.

Posted in Music | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1462: Cosplaying as Deep Individuals

Egad! There is no way to get the start started without knowing how the end ends.

And wherefore and all that other stuff, but it surely is the day of days and the rain falls and I feel like a spy with the little nook that I have that I can see out of into the wide, wide world out there. It surely is a concrete place, and the walls and the lights continue on endlessly into whatever world that there is within and without. Thankfully there are two party hats and one serious hat sitting on this desk, and I can choose to use all or neither to make sure that I get that good feel of the feeling good.

But there is only so much silence and there are only so many years and days and perhaps it is all reflected in the banality that is this life we know as life, and in knowing the knowing and doing the doing, there might not be much room for finding the clues. What are the clues, that you may ask about? Why, they’re the clues! They’re there and you see them or you don’t, but you need to make sure that you aren’t going for the throat. You need to make sure that the throat is going for you.

Where am I going with this? Oh, right: So anyway, onward! To the charging definition of the day that finds where I might not find and therefore and where art thou and verily so, and some such nonsense about how I twizzle myself into a shape formerly known as me and now known as you. I am you now, and you best know it… now.

But there are only so many hours and my hair is wet and I don’t like that, because it rained and I feel all jumbled inside and outside I am normal, or whatever passes for normal in a boring world, but my features are just a little too exaggerated or something, so I’m not really normal, but everything is normal except for how we treat others, because we treat others terribly because they aren’t like us, and perhaps we need to stop. Too many people persecuted for just being different. Too many people ostracised. Too many shitty people accepted because reasons.

But now I’m me again and I think about how I will bamboozle and wow an audience under exceptional duress, and if the words come clearly, then perhaps upon windows the sky will continue to drift in semicircular fashions, and then what? Then where will we go from here? Will we go there? Are there even answers that can be found upon the glint of the bay whilst the hill of grass finds the pavement of concrete? Will all looking inward moments really show that we’re just cosplaying as deep individuals? I don’t know, and I don’t dare to know, because if the veil is thrown back, then there’s nothing left to delusionally question!

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:20:21

This was really fun to write. Just went in, banged out the words, done. Silly (except for the part which was quite clear and serious) and just a load of fun to get out.

Written at work.

Posted in Fiction | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Return to Brightness

I can see where this could’ve been better and this is one I’m retaking as soon as I can, but I’m sharing this now. I really like the shade contrast, and how it’s still in the lighted areas. Get this interesting textural pattern, I think.

I hope you enjoy.

Posted in Photography | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Poem About Sweating

Yeah look, this is rough.
I’ve wanted to write more bad poetry for a while and decided it was time to force myself.
Was it a good idea? Probably not. Can definitely do better than this. However, it gets the imagery across well enough.

I hope you enjoy.

Openings ready to keep things close
They start releasing
Heat flows through with steady movement
Sticks close to the vents
As clear treacle oozes

Sheets slowly soak
Widening the waste
Heat holds, trapped between layers
Until it thins enough
Escaping its space

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1461: My Wave is Still Going

Alright here we go.

I have no idea how I’m still going as much as I am. It has been years since I last had this kind of drive, and I am still moving forward. I am still charging on and being productive, but I am struggling. But I am writing.

The last essay I did didn’t do as well as I;d hoped here, but it has done well elsewhere, and I’m off to edit the next one. I’ve four that need editing, but I think I can do it. I think I can charged through them and get them done and all that stuff that sounds good. But, of course, I need to keep going.

Maybe I’m just getting enough sleep. I don’t know, but it’s possible. It’s possible that that’s the case. But I didn’t over the weekend, and so everything was a struggle and I cut my finger on a blade of grass whilst pulling it out, and these things happen, but you keep going. You keep moving forward, because there’s only so much time in the world and there’s only so much time to get things done, so you work to get those things done.

The more I write, the less interested in “good” I am, though of course I want the work to be good. However, I feel the itch to explore. I feel the desire top work things out and see what lies within the writing, and maybe my writing will become less rigid for it. I guess it’s like photography. I’m not trying to do “good” so much as I am trying to “experiment” and learn and grow, and see what is “true”, or if there is any truth within me.

But I’m driven and I’m still going., but I need to keep going. I need to remind myself of this. The only way I get things done is by getting them done. Obvious, right? But it’s true. Sitting down and doing nothing leads to nothing. I also need to know when I’m running on fumes and stop letting myself burn out, because that’s not helpful at all to anyone and just slows the processes down. I need to remember that. I need to keep that in mind. Not doing so leads to issues.

But of course it can be difficult to recognise burnout when it’s so easy to see as procrastination.

Sow what am I saying here? I guess it’s that I’m surprised that my wave is still going. I’m not taking it for granted, either; there are going to (hopefully) be three things that go up on Culture Eater this week, but they only happen if I get them edited. Which I will, and it will be glorious, and I’ll finally rule everything for all time, and… yeah.

Maybe this is some sort of applicable advice also. To be productive, but to also know when to not be productive so you can remain productive. It’s good to work and also rest.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:48:13

Decent speed. Bit of drag and repetition, but I think this bit of rambling is actually okay.

Written at work.

Posted in Life | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Change Through Decay

Some more photos of this boat, and I’d share the colour versions but they’re being saved for something, so here are the monochrome ones.

I focused on specific parts of the frame to try and draw out more detail and give some focus. It’s clear that it’s all from the same thing, but I think there’s enough variance to keep the images interesting.

This is my submission into the three hundred-and-thirty-eighth Lens-Artists Photo Challenge. The theme for this one is “Pick a Word“.

I chose “Rust”.

The host of the Lens-Artists challenges cycles weekly between the following people:

Tina

Patti

Ann-Christine aka Leya

John Steiner

Sofia Alves

Anne Sandler

Egídio

Ritva

This one is curated by John. The next one is curated by Anne.

I recommend joining the community and participating in the challenges. They’re pretty straightforward, allow room for interpretation, and provide a good way to think about photography in general. If not, however, then at the very least you should check out what others submit to the challenges.

I hope you enjoy.

Posted in Photography | Tagged , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

One Thousand Word Challenge 212: We are in a Chicken Simulation

Well, here we are. After years and years of research into the irrefutable, I’ve finally done it. I’ve finally cracked the code, pulled back the veil, lifted the sheet of deception from over our eyes, and now I know, and what I know I am going to reveal to you all, and you may be shocked. Prepare yourself.

For some, you may reject this knowing, and to be fair, that’s fair. Sometimes we would much prefer to bury our head in the sand rather than face the truth. However, it remains important that this information is brought to light, because we have an obligation to know, all of us.

I’ve learned a lot about chicken over the years. Through research I’ve been able to determine that chickens will be the dominant species in the future. I’ve also discovered that their beak P.S.I is comparable to the bite P.S.I of a great white shark, and the power known as a Chicken Bawkade. More recently than those, however, through lengthier research I was able to provide information about how chicken is the abyss. Well, those all pale in comparison to what I have realised and learned through this gathering of the data and seeing what the data tells me.

So… chicken. Chicken is a thing, and chicken exists, but perhaps chickens as we know them do not exist in the way that we know them. Perhaps what we see in these vast, poultry-based organisms… is a lie.

Think about it: They’re so powerful, yet so unassuming. So precise, yet so goofy. Regal, yet poorly, and everywhere. They are everywhere all the time and we don’t even think about it because we eat them. But of course we eat them, because what else is there to do? And so their spread throughout every cultural space is a given, because there are so many of them and they do all these things and peck and bawk, and sometimes scream at the grand horror of existence. But there’s only one way they could have become so all over the place.

Sure, we could believe that it is due to their being convenient and easy to work with; sure, it could be because they know how to huddle in deepened, darkened spaces. But maybe, just maybe, there is a higher plane of existence beyond what we perceive as reality… and maybe the humble chicken has already won the war and the fight.

But perhaps there was no war, and that is always the way it has been. Perhaps it is that chickens have set up a simulation for us to protect us from ourselves, or something. I do not know the reasoning, for I am not a chicken, but what I do know is that we are in a simulation created by chickens. We exist in a world where it is them and not us who set the rules and the ways that we can move about.

I discovered this by carefully examining my research and questioning its being so exact and irrefutable, because that shouldn’t happen in science. Something that is irrefutable cannot be learned from, and can do little to provide because it’s now set in stone. Done. It no longer has any worth or value that it can provide beyond itself… which I know isn’t exactly the case but you get the idea.

So I looked and I tried to work out what it was that was missing, if there was indeed anything missing at all, because it didn’t seem like there was. Everything was just too perfect and too what I needed to find out, so I did some more snooping. I went to where I thought I could and I started speaking to chickens, trying to work out why they were so fine and perfect and powerful.

This did not help much as I do not understand the speech of the fowl. So I kept on looking, trying to find something that would help me understand all of this. It was troubling, but I had to keep searching. I knew something would eventually have to come up.

Nothing came up.

But I kept looking anyway, trying to see where this was all going wrong. Trying to work out what it was that I was not seeing, but then I saw it. I saw the faintest glimmer on a dark night.

I was very much away from people, away from everything, despondent upon a hill on a clear sky, and I saw a chicken fade, and it was gone. Why the chicken was there, I do not know. I don’t even know if it knew I was there, for I was so saddened by this state of failure that I was undetectable in my sadness. But it was there, and then it wasn’t, but all of a sudden it was once more.

I watched the chicken leave and I felt an ominous crack within the fabric of reality, and it patched itself almost faster than it appeared, but it was just long enough to see the feathers and hear the bawking, and then it all came clear to me. Then all the dots connected, and I realised.

In those brief moments I saw chickens conducting and guiding, and pecking in code. I heard them communicate with each other, and it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

I decided to head home to get some sleep as it had been a while, but the image, so clear and so striking in its brief existence would not leave me. I could not shake it, and eventually I started noticing oddities that could only be if we were being deceived by chicken. I realised that chicken was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, and I noticed how unassuming everyone was about that.

And now you know too, for it is the only way for everything to make sense; that we are in a chicken simulation, and that is all we’ll ever know.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 16:44:23

Not a bad speed.

This is another idea I had sitting for a while. Been meaning to to jump on it shortly after the abyss one was finished. Forced myself to do it just now. Could be better; could be worse, but it was fun to write, and might just be the last bit of silly chicken stuff I do. Unless something new comes to me, I’m fine with doing no more of this chicken fiction.

Written at home.

Posted in Fiction | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

King Crimson: No Warning

One listen.

I feel I did better with this one than I did with “Sartori in Tangier”. I was able to be a bit more loose and relaxed, and I’m not sure why. As such, I think this bit of writing represents the song quite well.

King Crimson’s “No Warning” is from Three of a Perfect Pair.

I hope you enjoy.

Harsh, ominous sound. A pulse and something akin to lightning, but the pulse continues, and changes lengths and intensity. Percussion crashes in and mechanical procession leads the way. It presses down and it stresses and perhaps attempts to induce panic.

Minimal and abstract, yet utterly, so utterly clear. Unease as a brick to the face, and it’s stressed and despairing and urging, urging to move. Building, trying to make itself more obvious and continually pushing, even when pulling back. Pulling back into scattered spirals of soundless terror.

Muffled roaring as vague menace here and there and sounds continue to seemingly deconstruct, or fall apart. Something mournful among it all; something sad and searching, but unable to find what it looks for, and all has become just one cold stretch as the song ends.

Posted in Music | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

King Crimson: Sartori in Tangier

One listen.

I don’t think I had much of anything for this one. I like what I wrote, but I also feel it drags.

King Crimson’s “Sartori in Tangier” is from Beat.

I hope you enjoy.

A sort of rest and rumble, looking through a gap, waking up, coming into dawn, and finding some sort of peace, but it doesn’t last and suddenly a tension and urgency comes in.

This keeps pressure on, and chaos and uncertainty. A sense of the lost and closing in. Restlessness on purpose. Eventually a space clears, however, and in this space is calm. It’s not relaxed, but it is calm, and dreamy, and steady remains the beat, unchanging almost, but it’s not pressing in; it’s just keeping the expansion anchored.

Sounds float along and carry with them their space and their relief, but soon it’s back to the tension. A return to the pressing and pushing, and the stress and drive, and it continues on with a menacing glee until it suddenly stops and the song ends.

Posted in Music | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment