I took this photograph last week and felt an animation would suit it nicely. Click the image for the full size animation (warning: 1.4 mb)
Sundry
Google Reader Mashup
While combing through some new stuff on Google Reader, I inadvertently created some form of post-modern web experience. Lost at E Minor posted an MP3 of Dead Can Dance’s “The Carnival is Over”. I listened to the song while continuing on to Is Nice That’s link to SWEET GIFS. The following image was featured:
The coincidental pairing seemed oddly perfect.
On Cover Bands
Thought for the day: someone should form a cover band of The Shins called The Shinguards.
The Anniversary of Bike Dust
Two years ago today, I was on a plane home from Portland, Oregon after finishing a 2-month bicycle trip across the country with my dad. We averaged 70 miles a day, ran into more than a couple tornadoes, met Americans of all shapes and sizes, sampled the best food the Midwest has to offer, nearly got hypothermia, witnessed the poverty of the Native American population, camped on rivers and cringed in motels (many of which rent “by the hour”), pushed through headwinds, celebrated tailwinds, drank beer, ate 6,000 calories a day and – most importantly (and no less cheesy) – really discovered what life is about.
Really, not a day goes by that I am somehow not reminded of this trip. It was life-changing, because it showed me that there’s more than daily routine and day jobs and living the 9-5, five-and-two (weekdays versus weekends) grind. It was the longest two months of my life, and there were times when I would question the sanity of what we were doing, especially when we were hiding from tornado in a campground bathroom or huddling under a tarp as rain and lighting poured down on either side. But it was the spirit of adventure and the love of taking it all in, one slow breath at a time.
Duplicity
I received an email yesterday from “Griz Greetings” — an electronic postcard sent by my younger brother, who goes to University of Montana Missoula. Pictured above is a screenshot from that email. I did a double-take, and quickly went to my own website where I knew I had the photo posted.
What’s remarkable about this is that the place where this photo was taken was a four-mile hike in and I believe it’s an understatement to say that mountains are big; that two people would take a photograph of nearly the same thing from nearly the same place is pretty amazing. I sent an email back to my brother chalking it up to a “great minds think alike” scenario. Although it’s also safe to say I am in no way a “great” mind. I’m fine with “rather decent” mind. Or even a “trys hard” mind.
Mystery Key
The other day while standing outside of a restaurant after brunch, I found this key on the ground. There’s something exciting about finding a key; the mystery of never knowing what it opens or if it was lost on purpose. Maybe it opens a door that contains all of the world’s secrets, laid out in a clear and concise manner.
If there’s even the slightest possibility that that’s true, I’ll be carrying this key around with me for the rest of life, trying it on every locked door. Check back here in about 80 years and I’ll let you know how it went.
When Life Hands You Lemons
Sometimes, the moments when you really appreciate humanity come unexpectedly. Take, for example, this cell phone text conversation that took place at 1 a.m. last night…
Text [Unknown Number]: Hey who is this?
Me: Garrett
Text: Oh well this is your neighbor Sarah*. you smoke right?
Me: Not so much as of late
Sarah: Alright well do you have a gram?
Me: I sure don’t, sorry.
Sarah: Shit man, alright. Thanks anyway.
Now, without going into too much detail, this is hilarious, mainly because Sarah is my neighbor’s 15-year old daughter who I used to babysit. Not to mention the fact that she somehow has my cell phone number (without knowing who it belongs to) and upon discovering that it was mine, immediately assumed I was a drug dealer and still lived at home.
Sometimes I do truly miss the countryside.
* Names changed to protect the somewhat-innocent.
Recapping the Fourth
Although I’m a bit late to the game here, I’m playing catch up after some hectic days. I spent the Fourth of July over in Capitol Hill BBQing, fleeing thunderstorms, and waiting impatiently among the tourists to get onto the Capitol Lawn for the fireworks.
On the way home, I fell behind the group to take pictures. After a couple interactions with police regarding taking pictures near Union Station, I gave up and finished making my way to my friends’ house. The neighborhood was alive with explosions and personally-bought fireworks, the smell of sulfuric smoke everywhere. A burst of color above and a bright sparkle in adjacent parking lots. Two men came streaking by me, smelling of fireworks, quickly followed by two cops hot on their tails.
It was the closest I could imagine an apocalypse in the District, except without their air of death and despair. None of that bummer stuff — only the celebration of blowing shit to holy hell and then doing it again.
Flickr page here.
How to Kill an Animal Cracker
I came into work today to find my office littered with animal crackers – dotting the walls and grazing on my keyboard, courtesy of the other graphics folks. After a nibble proved that they weren’t stale, I began to work my way around, devouring the creatures one by one. After the massacre, I realized that there is a certain way that I eat animal crackers, perhaps left over from the farm days. I always bite the head off first, then go for the body. Mercy before pleasure.
My co-worker disagreed, “No way. You eat the legs off first. That way they can’t run away, and you get the taste of fear added to the mix. Win-win!”
Without even considering the notion of cookies experiencing fear, our conversation does bring up the interesting concept of how one’s consumption of an animal cracker relates to their overall social stability. I like to think I lean more towards the “sane” side of the spectrum.
Then again, I am writing a blog post about how to properly kill cookies shaped like animals.