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candeo1919's Blog
succinct, ambiguous, undressed and unadorned
07/14/11 at 11:06 PM by candeo1919
FUCK!!!! They roasted me alive in workshop tonight. Do I really care what a bunch of undergrads think when they are only taking the class for fun?

I don't want to be obvious.

Obviousness is so cheap and tawdry in the world of art.

The obvious makes me retch.

Fuck it...I'm happier watching Married with Children...
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ugh, late night and I am B-O-R-E-D!!!
07/07/11 at 11:57 PM by candeo1919
Shoot... I had to drink a copious amount of coffee before class tonight just to get through it all and now I think I will buzzed until dawn! i guess I'll cruise the forums and see who is duking it out over John Nolan and Jesse Lacey. You ap.net kids crack me up...
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Snoop Bloggy-blog
05/17/11 at 09:30 AM by candeo1919
Well, I have decided to re-enter the world of online journaling for reals.
if anyone is curious...

www.dizzyglassslipper.blogspot.com
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The return of "The Step"...
04/21/11 at 05:31 PM by candeo1919
What was once old is now new again. It is a constant theme in life. Though I have come to expect it in my ripe old years, I am still pleasantly tickled and taken aback when old fashion gets recycled. I smile to myself at the return of "the step." Ah, you wonderful haircut of the surfer cool-guy circa 1991. I feel like I am in 7th grade all over again. Time to bust out the 'Santa Cruz' stickers, the Vision Steet Wear shirt and that big, yellow Walkman tape cassette player. Who wants to listen to 'Violator'?
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Oh, rats!
04/20/11 at 11:46 AM by candeo1919
Bleh! What a way to return back from vacation... After turning my suitcase, back pack and purse upside down I had to resign myself to the fact that my keys are lost! Where they could be, Lord only knows!

Thankfully the vacation was a decent one. The trip home was long but I had my music to keep me company. The standout musicians that graced my ears along the California coastline:

-Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
-Placebo
-Nerf Herder
-Hot, Hot Heat
-Belle and Sebastian
-Depeche Mode
-Glass Jaw
-Glasseater
-Jawbreaker
-Jets to Brazil
-Bach
-Chopin
-Bauhaus
-Kitchens of Distinction
-Def Leppard
-Grandaddy
-HIM
-Lou Reed
-Northstar
-Person L
-The Ramones
-Mike Ness


Some music stood out, some faded to the backround. San Jose made me a little sad. It is kind of a sad place, with cracked sidewalks and dim streetlights. But it is always nice to see the folks...
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books are wonderful
03/04/11 at 09:23 AM by candeo1919
I just finished reading 'Great Expectations' by Charles Dickens and there is a little hole in my heart that this story has left behind. Now I am haunted by Estella and Pip and Magwitch... gentle Joe Gargery... books are wonderful...
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poetry 3
02/14/11 at 07:55 AM by candeo1919

Dover Beach


The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits;--on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the {AE}gean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

Matthew Arnold

1867



Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!
: )
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poetry 2
02/08/11 at 11:16 AM by candeo1919
Birches

When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground,
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm,
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows--
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

Robert Frost



Which is nicer? Being young or remebering being young?
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poetry
02/01/11 at 10:15 AM by candeo1919
The Garden of Love

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I had never seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And "Thou shalt not" writ over the door;
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore,

And I saw it filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And Priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys & desires.

-William Blake, 1793



I think this is pretty...
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Last Updated: 07/14/11 (1,760 Views)
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