Margot’s Other Cat by Arthur Ganson
Joy!
RITALIN
Favourite Things
(Pomplamoose on YouTube) | (Pomplamoose.com)
For every inch of appreciation I can muster for the world around me, I am rewarded with a foot of happiness. So I appreciate for miles and the rewards go on for light years.
This life, it is a gift.
Donut Holes and Fountains– Find the connection.
(By: Charlie Bucket) | (Music by: Ratatat!)
I grew up inside of a shoe. I know this may sound like the premise for a fairytale– but rest assured. This particular shoe had electricity, running water, a cockroach problem, and most importantly a walk up window from which we served donuts and coffee to hungry patrons.
“My little donut-boy, it’s time to wake up.” My mother would whisper into my ear early every morning. She would hand me my toothbrush and say “Smile, I hear today is your lucky day.”
The methodical churning of butter, sugar, flour and sometimes the stray cockroach—it wasn’t exactly what I would consider a lucky day nor was it much of a memorable childhood at that. But it wasn’t that bad, I can think of worse things– like working at Starbucks.
It was an accident really, this idea, “The Donut Hole.” I was in love with a girl. I assure you, it was really quite tragic. She was red haired, blue eyed, and was always yelling on about something. She would come in singing opera, and leave singing The Star Spangled Banner. But while she was in my store, she always sang the same song.
She came to buy a jelly donut—cherry, every morning. I would give her the one I made last– the freshest one. And she sang:
“I am the daughter of a watch maker and my mother is a whore
I can set your time-piece right, I can set men’s souls afire. I can dance and keep my time; I can make any man… mine.
I can build you a fine clock, and spit and cuss and fuss, but I’ll never be on time– not for you, and not for us.
I am the daughter of a watch maker and my mother is a whore,
You can catch me in the evening, and I’ll kiss you all night long. But when the sun starts shining, your watch and I… are gone.”
She was way too young to be singing about any of that, I was certainly too young to be hearing it– but she was a wonder. From the minute she walked in my heart would race, when she sang her song my mind would throb, and when she left my soul would cry. For as much as I didn’t understand of her I knew that I could love her. And I wanted to show her.
I used the finest flour, the sweetest sugar, and the richest butter. I mixed until my hands were sore– and then I mixed some more. With precision I rolled the dough into a loop small enough to fit her dainty hands, and stuck it in the fryer. I added diamonds of glaze, and precious stones made of sprinkles. It was perfect.
When she arrived I got on my hands and knees on the dirty kitchen floor, while the cockroaches scattered, I looked her in the eyes, and bumbled out my marriage proposal:
“I don’t know your name, but I know your song. But let me keep the time for you and let me find your mom a job. Singing girl, spend the mornings with me by the fryer, and I’ll spend the evening in your arms.”
To which she put her hands on her hips and said resolutely, “Hell no!”
“Why!??!??” I pleaded– and she said, “Donut boy, my darling, I could never marry you. Because you stink of donut grease, and your smile is too thin.”
So I told her she smelled bad too (which was a lie, she smelled like lavender soap.) To which she smiled and broke into her stupid song, about her whoreish mother and her stupid dad– who probably crafts a watch that can only keep track of 15 hours in a day.
As she walked out smug and with her usual jelly donut I yelled to her: “Never again will a ring be made from the finest dough, my love is far too sacred!” She turned to me, rolled her eyes, and walked off.
With the batter that had been filled with love I sculpted little balls of sugary hate. I threw them into the fryer and watched them sizzle and pop– never again would a girl break my heart.
And then, while I watched the pastry chunks of my heart bubble and boil… A stuffy business man with nice shoes and a smile that probably sold used cars at one point in time or another– he wanted half a donut. “You’re a stingy idiot!” I said. But he insisted, and demanded, and argued. So I gave him some donut balls. And the rest…
Is cake!
But that girl… with eyes like the sea and hair like the sun– I’ll never forget her, and her stupid song.
I am so lost, confused, and brilliantly motivated.
(Watch on FOX) | (FOX News Photo Essay)
I’ve always aspired to be the center attention. When I was younger that meant being annoying, now it means stepping up to ridiculous challenges. I blame Rob of course. If it wasn’t for his notion– to replace his eye with a video camera, I wouldn’t be here in the first place. But now that I’m here, now that I’ve stepped up to this ridiculous challenge of building a bionic eye– things are getting cool.
There are just two simple things, and they are just two words, and they are always nestled in the back of our minds: Fear, Desire. Floating upside down, underwater, screaming. Your long hair suspended. You dove too deep, you took on too much. You’re drowning.
But really, honestly, just wait a moment. I’m not a harbinger of truth, I’m no fortune teller– but I’ve lived here for awhile and I tried this out. So let me tell you a secret, and just hold on for one more second:
We can breathe under water.
You’re like a fish– you’ve just forgotten, because everyone’s been telling you something else. Those damn liars, what truth do they know?! Make your own truth!
It’s an old lie that someone told someone who told someone else– and nobody took the time to dive in, and take the plunge. Because if they were wrong– can you imagine how different things would be? Can you imagine what it means to not drown in your own spit? Atlantis was never lost; we just forgot what we were capable of. And what we are capable of is magnificent.
I know, I know. You can drown in an inch of water. Your flat mate in college drowned in his own vomit. But, and I don’t really know, but perhaps those who tried and failed, they don’t see the possibilities of breathing under water– they didn’t really believe in it!
You see, I’m not crazy – I’ve just got this thing, this project.
I call it a submarine.
–Excerpted from my personal journal–
I hadn’t thought much about it. I am naive; it’s part of my personality. I say “yeah, we can do that.” without even thinking about it. My brain oozes the ideal of “anything is possible” — you just have to be convincing, or convinced, enough. My e-mail box is a testament to that. So many whirring minds have taken pause with this project and have taken a moment to tell me some story– the man who is building 3D glasses, the futurist who believes in the power of bio fuels, the artists with their own ambitions. They want to do things, they are doing things. I haven’t had the schedule– or frame of mind– to address everyone who’s taken a moment to e-mail me about the EyeBorg Project, but I am so impressed with the amount of movement– this rustle and chorus of thoughts. Who would have thought?
So people continue to impress me, all the time. I’m always impressed.
The other day a long Lincoln town car picked me up and took me to a studio. An itty bitty ear piece was thrust into my ear, a microphone was clasped to my lapel, lights were aimed at my face, and a camera was focused on my bright orange shirt. FOX News wanted to know some more details about the project, and I tried to tell them as much as I could in the three short minutes of air time. Bill Hemmer asked questions and I tried not to blow it. I think I did well. I stayed for a half hour after my three minutes of nationally televised fame and asked a thousand questions about the cameras, and the lights, and the studies. I got a tour of the place by the camera man. So neat!
On Saturday my phone rang at 1:00 A.M. and all of a sudden I was on a late night talk show distributed over Canada. It’s so strange– I’m just chatting, laughing, and telling the story of EyeBorg. But it’s so important to tell it a certain way– with candor, to give credit to the many people involved, to dissuade my ego from taking over. I’m learning; I’m learning a lot.
I am so lost, confused, and brilliantly motivated. I don’t feel up to the task of articulating any more, there’s just such a jumble in my head.
The most charming music video ever made…
(Oren Lavie) | (Learn More)
Isn’t it lovely?
In other news…
I moved to San Francisco two weeks ago. I lived on the floor of a friends apartment, and when the bass from the people below us got on my nerves I put up an ad on Craigslist: “In Search of an Awesome place to live. Location: Awesome” it read.
You’d think with that kind of of ambiguity, and seeing as how the rest of the world doesn’t exactly know my tastes, that the responses probably wouldn’t be all that awesome. But, I’m usually wrong in my presumptions, and the universe decided to make a point.
The warehouse I now call home is 4,700 square feet, green and three blocks south of Market. I live in a room that was built by hand, my walls are three shades of blue, a skylight fills my sleep filled eyes with sunlight every morning. The place is cold, really cold. But the people, all 12 of us who live here, we are warm.
We have a living room that is huge– a giant white screen made from an old vinyl sign is lit by a projector, we watch movies as a family. Our kitchen is kind of gross, but every night someone cooks dinner and we talk about our day- and how delightful or terrible it was.
It’s a beautiful place to live. My room– furnished with mismatched pieces of couch and sofa, my bed– it sags in the middle and lies, like a loner, in the middle of the floor. My space heater that keeps me from freezing. All of these things, stuff that has been loaned to me by others– they bring me a sense of home. I feel at home here.
I haven’t made it out much. I’ve been busy designing things and working on some ideas. I would like to make friends outside of the people that live in my warehouse. So I think I’ll do that. I’ll find a coffeeshop and have some tea. I’ll chat up some strangers. I’ll do that tomorrow.
Get Validated
(Kurt Kuenne) | (Validation)
Kurt Kuenne’s 2007 film “Validated” is a testament to the little things that can make peoples day. Because who doesn’t love a compliment, and who doesn’t love a smile. I assure you this short film will leave you with a bit of a tear in your eye and a smile on your lips. Cheers!
THE PITCH: BUY THIS REALITY TELEVISION SHOW.
Special thanks to: Allie D. for holding the camera– especially when her hand hurt, Jenna N. for letting me swipe a camera and mike for a day, Ratatat for the SWEET TUNES, and the people of Boston for being so chatty.
THE PITCH:
This show mates “The Apprentice” and “Survivor” Five graduating students haven’t a clue as to what they want to do post graduation. $20,000 per, and personalized training. Questing for an ideal.
DETAILS ARE BORING:
“Follow your passion.” That’s the sage advice that adults and leaders give us as we try and find our way through the maze that is life. “Follow your dreams, follow your aspirations, follow your gut.” With that staggering lack of detail it’s no wonder that some students aim for practicality. The finance major, accountant, business major– money is quantifiable. Passion… well not so much. And that’s the quandary that many graduating students find themselves in. This ever pressing question of: What do I want to do with the rest of my life?
For some graduating students practicality is the only answer. As tuition increases and with the job market shrinking as of late, practicality usurps passion and the pursuit of dollars has become the objective. But even if you were a business major in college, the plan isn’t particularly laid out for you. What kind of business? Do you want to be an entrepreneur, day trader, work for the man? And with today’s market mishaps, being in business might not be the safest of choices!
Graduates are finishing school and entering a universe of opportunities– we are embarking on a journey of experience. Very few of us are satisfied by the prospects of working one job for the rest of our life, and with the whole concept of pensions and the elusive “retirement” getting rarer and rarer to find, there really isn’t much incentive to do so. We want our ideal, we want that job that excites, inspires, and motivates. A job that fills our own inner desires– that job that speaks to our gut, our aspirations, our (dare I say it) passions.
But what of these passions? Where are they? What do they look like, taste like, how can I turn my love for building things into something I can live off of? How are other people doing it? Where, why,who, and how how how how?!
Give confused graduates from five different university’s some money and the support they need to go on the adventures of their lifetimes. Allow them mentorship and guidance, and follow them as they fulfill the goals and dreams that they have outlined for themselves. Put emphasis on you can do anything, the world is smaller than you imagined, and experience is the only way to learn.
Two weeks of journey per episode, each student picks a destination and a goal. The goal can be practical or impractical– it just has to help answer the question: Is this something I want to do for the rest of my life? Break the pre-concieved notions about a place, job, or subject. Take the rhetoric about “careers” out of the classroom and watch it manifest in reality.
Perfection: Saturn V
(Koyaanisqatsi) | (William Orbit)
My love affair with all things space related continues. I found this footage and tacked on some music that I felt was appropriate. Please, immerse yourself in all the greatness that is human endeavoring.
My Hero
I became familiar with the work of legendary photographer James Nachtwey when I stumbled upon the movie “War Photographer.” This incredible man has given his life to informing people about the realities of war. Risking his own life, and witnessing atrocities of a scope and scale that I can’t even begin to fathom– he is truly an individual who believes in serving a greater good. For as little as my endorsement means to a man of such character– he is a hero to me.
I’ve discovered TED– an annual conference that believes in bringing “Ideas worth spreading” into the public’s eye. If any single group exemplifies the idea of “changing the world” it is these individuals– the smartest, the brightest, the most capable people who all share one thing in common: a vision or idea that can change the world. I aspire to be of this ilk, if not in this lifetime– then the next.
C’était un rendez vous
(Purchase Film) | (Claude Lelouch)
Claude Lelouch (born 30 October 1937) is a French film director, writer, cinematographer, actor and producer. In his 1964 film C’était un rendez vous he drives a Ferrari 275 GTB through the morning streets of Paris.
A gyro stabilized camera captures his 8 minute trek from city block to city block as he speeds in excess of 140km/h. This piece touches my creative soul. The ending is astounding.
Balloon Project Launch Video
Going through some documents today I stumbled across some onboard video footage from launch. Might as well make a movie out of it!
Balloon Project: The Movie
Music By: Andy McKee
The Balloon Launch is just one short week away. I’m extremely excited and very scared. Yesterday I gave a presentation about the project to a panel of judges for the CSU Undergraduate Research Competition. I’m not sure if I won, I think I did a pretty ok job though. Below is a short video I made to show the judges how all of the systems of the project work. I hope you enjoy it.
For those of you who are new to the Balloon Project, feel free to peruse the formal write up.
This is the first formal post in iAmKosta.org. I hope you enjoyed it. Expect more to come and visit often!
