Self Portrait.... . .. . . . plus also a chicken.

Unlike the rest of the universe, I only recently acquired my first digital camera, so embarassingly enough I'm at this lame, narcissistic place where I take pictures of myself a lot. Pretty much like everyone else did when they were fourteen and got their first digicam.

So you can imagine my delight when posting a self-portrait was mentioned in lecture as a bloggable post. Neat.

And now I get reallllly clever.

In the vein of Jean Mohr, here is a breif series of alternative captions for this picture, and as a really fun experiment, read each, one at a time and look back at the picture and see how the caption effects how you see my picture.

1) Evidence of Fatal Romance

2) My Vacation in Spain

3) The Costs of Homelessness

5) 10 Different Ways to Curl Your Bangs!

6) Insomnia and the Wilderness: The Threat of Being Eaten by Bears

I bet when you read that first one you thought I was pretty deep, huh? Boy were you wrong! But still, It's interesting how, even though I was the one who took the picture of myself, and though I know where I am there, reading each caption lends the picture to a different reality. That picture was taken at my farm on the Bruce Penninsula, not Spain. And I don't curl my bangs.

Also here is a picture of a Klingon chicken at my farm. Post different captions for it, I dare you!!

Fam-Bamily Documented.

Alan Berliner's "Family Album" reminded me of this video I came across on YouTube for a Joanna Newsom song, "Peach Plum Pear" -- which, by the by, is pretty much the loveliest song this side of strawberry shortcakes.
SIDE NOTE: There's a pretty funny story behind this, too. This song does not have an actual, MTV type video, and so this one that I watched was made independantly by some dude/fan. I was going apeshit over it because I loved it so much (the video and the song together), and one night at Call the Office I ran into a freind of my boyfriend's, who had a guest along with him that night. This mystery guest dude was all, "yeah hi I'm an amateur video-maker person. Blah blah blah what music do you like?" So I told him I was mental over this Joanna Newsome song and video and it turned out he was the one who actually made it! Isn't that crazy? I think I made it sound lame.

HERE's THE YOUTUBE LINK: (sorry for yelling)
(seriously though. watch it!)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KcHjAUhtSrk

(Aww I just watched it again and am totally siked to be posting it.)

Anyway, I asked him how he made the video. This is the part that's like... relative.
Turns out he bought a basket full of ancient home video reels at a yard sale. There were hours and hours of silent footage of picnics and other such olden-days shenanigans that really captivated him. He thought it matched the feeling of this particular song, so he projected the film, running at times forwards and at times backwards, on to his fridge and recorded it for this video.
That just took me eighteen hours.

Also interestingly enough, there's one line in this song and I can't figure out if she says, "makes me bolt like a horse," or if it's "makes me bold like a whore." Hmm.

I am an autopsy waiting to happen.

Dear Stan Brakhage,
Hey man. What's up.
So. About that film you made. I never knew that my scalp could be folded over my face in order to more efficiently saw through my skull to retreive my brain from inside my head. My chest cavity can pop open like a tickle trunk with a few quick snaps of my ribs: that's an interesting tidbit, too.
I guess, after I'm dead, I really won't have any need of those gooey globs that previously forced fluids and pumped chunks of biological mass throughout my body, so they can get scooped on out at the leisure of my rubber-gloved coroner. Whomever that may be.
And really, throughout the whole process, it will be quiet, won't it? It will be even more silent than your documentary, because I could hear gasps and squeams around me while watching. It will be more silent than anything I can possibly experience while I'm still alive because I'll be dead and I'll just be a body to be sliced and diced and left to drain, emptied of any resemblance to a living person. I won't be planning my work schedule with my boss, I won't be washing my hair, and I won't be worried about assignments and writing this blog.
I'll be dead and it will be quiet and people can dig their paws right into my intestines and yank 'em the hell out.
And I never really thought of that before.

Love from Cali