"Map it to a sphere! Do it!"
Ah, terrain generation. Good times. I look at his project and think: "Goodness. I'm struggling with sorting algorithms and now he's programming pure awesomeness into his virtual world.
*sigh*
I wish I was a programmer.
I'm reading a fantastic book on feminist theory (or freedom from gender roles) and how it can be compatible with Christianity. I don't believe the husband should lead. I think, ideally in my life, I'd like to share leadership and function as a team with my wife. I think a healthy dose of idealism is important.
*sigh*
I wish I was an arts student.
I've been having more fun writing short stories and working on my novel than I've ever had on any one day at uni. I get a kick out of a well-structured, beautifully flowing piece of prose. I admire those who produce wonderful creative bodies of work. I enjoy getting lost in an environment I've constructed and conveying a message or simply an entertaining tit bit to whoever will read it.
*sigh*
I wish I was a writer.
I love the feeling of accomplishment I get when I manage to jog further than I thought I could. I have fun upping my weights (I'm no power lifter) every now and again. I'm not narcissistic. I'm not vain, but I like to look at my physical being and see something I've had an effect on.
*sigh*
I wish I was a regular gym goer.
I had a fantastic day at the galleries the other day. I relaxed in the sculpture garden. I saw an amazing exhibit on different styles of furniture and the balance between aesthetic beauty and functionality and when they meet in creative ways. Seeing my sister produce beautiful/provocative works of art for her course in Fine Arts makes me so jealous.
*sigh*
I wish I was an artist.
Well...
I came up with a novel construct in one of my algorithm classes yesterday that I'm quite proud of. I guess I'm not a bad programmer.
I had a great conversation on the merit of different political systems and the state of social attitudes this afternoon. Hmmm... In many ways I am a student of the arts.
My book is coming along quite well, with some very positive feedback so far. At least I'm finding an outlet for my writing.
I've been maintaining nightly jogging sessions for many weeks now. I can run further than I would have ever thought, even compared to back when I was a little lighter than I am now. I'm not unfit, certainly.
I gave my sister an idea for a work I'd like her to start on. She's taken too long, so I'll begin without her. I don't want to disclose the details. It's quite special, I'm sure. Here goes my attempt at constructing and conveying meaning from a collection of symbols. I'm about to try ART (Heh heh... I love teasing my sis with words exactly like these)!
Things are actually quite good.
I'm smiling,
TheSovietChairman
P.S. My girlfriend? She never leaves anything wanting (except for more time with her).
Showing posts with label sister. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sister. Show all posts
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
Monday, 16 February 2009
Home is where the lasagna is and The world today
She has established herself psychologically as a Bendigo girl. Her home is where her base is. She works in Bendigo, she goes to the gym, the library, the fruttivendolo and the bank in Bendigo. She likes the way she can smile at people wandering down the street, unlike in the city. I'm so proud of her. The self-professed "city girl" is thriving in this semi-rural community.
Me, on the other hand? My home is where someone cares for me. It's my mate's couch, my room in college, my girlfriend's new house, a spare mattress below an air-conditioner and even the family house on the odd occasion. I love to be distracted from what needs to be done. This has to change, of course. I'm taking responsibility. I'm seeking assistance where I ought and making my own way where appropriate. I've organised successful events (never to the same degree as my sweetheart, who hosts a killer dinner party) and taken appropriate steps to help others.
Still I find I'm more comfortable on the move. This blog and my email account is enough home for me, as long as another soul is sharing my experience and I'm sharing theirs. This is in stark contrast the her mannerisms; her need to hold her own. This might be a reason why we function as well as we do. She likes to do things her way, exercise control, and I like to be part of a strong story, share someone's plight without making it my own. I like to be as fertilizer to the plant, or a stake in the ground to gently assist. I don't want to be a graft. I don't have an appealing enough bouquet or fruit to offer. Maybe when I do, I'll offer my own splash of colour, but until then I'll just make sure that hers shines bright.
I suppose, in a way, my home is fairly fixed. If home is where the heart is, then mine doesn't like to leave Bendigo unless strictly necessary.
I'm very self-absorbed... Hmmm... Let me try and bear witness of the world around for a change. Even then I can only offer what I see. I don't give much weight to news reports. Maybe I'll start close and work outwards. It's a start.
My sister is about to start her course in Fine Arts. She loves to paint. she has just started a series about the plight of a vampire bat and his attempt to eat various pieces of fruit. He seems to be unable to do anything but try to swallow each piece whole, with little success. She has started to include interactions with a cat she literally dreamed up, whose whiskers are enormous and droop to the floor. Another series of hers is a recreation of a famous artist's work by using snippets from magazines and other art pieces. It really is something. But then again, so is everything. They're very good though. I can hear her response to that statement now: "Are they? Are they really? I'm so glad you think that they're good. Yes, this artwork has now attained a whole other status because my brother says it's 'good'." Dripping with sarcasm, of course. She's a funny one. "Am I? Am I really?"
My other, younger sister is in high school and the only one among us that enjoys sport to any real extent. She's talented with her school work and I hope she continues to do well. She has a fantastic sense of humour. At my mother's birthday party she had us in hysterics, merely by holding her face a certain way when holding a birthday card. It was the kind of reaction that performers would study years to perfect. I'd like to meet some of her friends though, because like all young'uns, she's very easily influenced, unlike the older one. She - the older one - might be influenced by an artist, but almost never by a person who's alive. Or at least no one she'll ever want to meet. Artists are usually best held at arm's length, I find. They tend to reek of broken dreams and vodka. Luckily, my sis is too young for much of either. One I spoke to who left the art world, tells tales of going from exhibition launch to gallery opening, wherever free grog was on offer. My sister of course says he's an idiot. I've not met many people who aren't in her eyes, though. She'll make a fabulous artist. I hope she does. I've got a bet running with an ex-girlfriend of mine, saying she will.
Well, that's my sisters covered. I'll venture more next time.
I hope everyone is coping. I hope everyone is more than coping. I'm in a good place, but I feel a little flighty.
*squeeze*
TheSovietChairman
P.S. I'd like to send out a greeting to a friend of mine from Wooster in the States. She's a colourful character, with emotional depth and a love of horses. She's a very special person, whom I miss a lot. She defines herself by her homosexuality and how very left of centre she is. I suppose I'm often defined by how lecherous I am, so I guess both of us are defined by our love of women. Thanks for seeking me out and spending time with me. I'll miss bringing every old friend from high school or wherever to meet you. I hope you'll come online more often, so we can chat. How is your brother? How is uni? How is your girlfriend? I miss you a lot, so please drop me a line. I might be being a bit presumptuous in assuming you'll read this, but what are the chances that my reader in Wooster is anyone but you?
P.P.S. I've forgotten your blog address. Please give it to me.
P.P.P.S. C- misses you too.
Me, on the other hand? My home is where someone cares for me. It's my mate's couch, my room in college, my girlfriend's new house, a spare mattress below an air-conditioner and even the family house on the odd occasion. I love to be distracted from what needs to be done. This has to change, of course. I'm taking responsibility. I'm seeking assistance where I ought and making my own way where appropriate. I've organised successful events (never to the same degree as my sweetheart, who hosts a killer dinner party) and taken appropriate steps to help others.
Still I find I'm more comfortable on the move. This blog and my email account is enough home for me, as long as another soul is sharing my experience and I'm sharing theirs. This is in stark contrast the her mannerisms; her need to hold her own. This might be a reason why we function as well as we do. She likes to do things her way, exercise control, and I like to be part of a strong story, share someone's plight without making it my own. I like to be as fertilizer to the plant, or a stake in the ground to gently assist. I don't want to be a graft. I don't have an appealing enough bouquet or fruit to offer. Maybe when I do, I'll offer my own splash of colour, but until then I'll just make sure that hers shines bright.
I suppose, in a way, my home is fairly fixed. If home is where the heart is, then mine doesn't like to leave Bendigo unless strictly necessary.
I'm very self-absorbed... Hmmm... Let me try and bear witness of the world around for a change. Even then I can only offer what I see. I don't give much weight to news reports. Maybe I'll start close and work outwards. It's a start.
My sister is about to start her course in Fine Arts. She loves to paint. she has just started a series about the plight of a vampire bat and his attempt to eat various pieces of fruit. He seems to be unable to do anything but try to swallow each piece whole, with little success. She has started to include interactions with a cat she literally dreamed up, whose whiskers are enormous and droop to the floor. Another series of hers is a recreation of a famous artist's work by using snippets from magazines and other art pieces. It really is something. But then again, so is everything. They're very good though. I can hear her response to that statement now: "Are they? Are they really? I'm so glad you think that they're good. Yes, this artwork has now attained a whole other status because my brother says it's 'good'." Dripping with sarcasm, of course. She's a funny one. "Am I? Am I really?"
My other, younger sister is in high school and the only one among us that enjoys sport to any real extent. She's talented with her school work and I hope she continues to do well. She has a fantastic sense of humour. At my mother's birthday party she had us in hysterics, merely by holding her face a certain way when holding a birthday card. It was the kind of reaction that performers would study years to perfect. I'd like to meet some of her friends though, because like all young'uns, she's very easily influenced, unlike the older one. She - the older one - might be influenced by an artist, but almost never by a person who's alive. Or at least no one she'll ever want to meet. Artists are usually best held at arm's length, I find. They tend to reek of broken dreams and vodka. Luckily, my sis is too young for much of either. One I spoke to who left the art world, tells tales of going from exhibition launch to gallery opening, wherever free grog was on offer. My sister of course says he's an idiot. I've not met many people who aren't in her eyes, though. She'll make a fabulous artist. I hope she does. I've got a bet running with an ex-girlfriend of mine, saying she will.
Well, that's my sisters covered. I'll venture more next time.
I hope everyone is coping. I hope everyone is more than coping. I'm in a good place, but I feel a little flighty.
*squeeze*
TheSovietChairman
P.S. I'd like to send out a greeting to a friend of mine from Wooster in the States. She's a colourful character, with emotional depth and a love of horses. She's a very special person, whom I miss a lot. She defines herself by her homosexuality and how very left of centre she is. I suppose I'm often defined by how lecherous I am, so I guess both of us are defined by our love of women. Thanks for seeking me out and spending time with me. I'll miss bringing every old friend from high school or wherever to meet you. I hope you'll come online more often, so we can chat. How is your brother? How is uni? How is your girlfriend? I miss you a lot, so please drop me a line. I might be being a bit presumptuous in assuming you'll read this, but what are the chances that my reader in Wooster is anyone but you?
P.P.S. I've forgotten your blog address. Please give it to me.
P.P.P.S. C- misses you too.
Friday, 23 January 2009
Attention spam
I had a long walk with my sister last night. I had just been having a "vigorous exchange of conflicting views" with my father and I needed to cool off. We got onto the topic of how much of ourselves we share with others. I share a lot usually, but I try to tread carefully if it concerns someone other than myself. My sister doesn't share as much. In fact, she barely shares anything for fear of criticism.
It seems my efforts to talk about what's been happening in my life to encourage interaction, and maybe foster some sharing in return, have had the opposite effect to their intention.
It seems to her that my thoughts rarely stray into the realm of other people, unless they directly effect myself in a notable way. Or at least this was how my discussion was interpreted. I don't see my sister often, so it's often necessary to catch up on quite a lot that has happened, but my offering of information has made her more timid. She suggested that in comparison to mine, her issues seemed trivial. Hmmm...
I must try to make my life sound less interesting.
In all seriousness, I must try to strike a balance between gently nudging for information and leading by example. My short attention span adds to the problems when I cut her off mid-sentence.
Catch ya!
TheSovietChairman
It seems my efforts to talk about what's been happening in my life to encourage interaction, and maybe foster some sharing in return, have had the opposite effect to their intention.
It seems to her that my thoughts rarely stray into the realm of other people, unless they directly effect myself in a notable way. Or at least this was how my discussion was interpreted. I don't see my sister often, so it's often necessary to catch up on quite a lot that has happened, but my offering of information has made her more timid. She suggested that in comparison to mine, her issues seemed trivial. Hmmm...
I must try to make my life sound less interesting.
In all seriousness, I must try to strike a balance between gently nudging for information and leading by example. My short attention span adds to the problems when I cut her off mid-sentence.
Catch ya!
TheSovietChairman
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