random
Haikus are easy
But sometimes they don't make sense
Refrigerator
-threadless.org
I had the strangest dream last night. I slept violently, up and down between my couch and bed, each time picking up the dream where I had left it.
I remember flying, most of all. I had built a jet pack, and someone had decided to reproduce the design. I remember crash landing on a darkened suburban block. I remember a house and an open field, earlier, where an older man was tending to a giant swing set. I remember an ornate school, like a castle. I was looking for someone. I found someone, and I remember his water glass and David Mamet book. When I crash landed, I was greeted by a stranger. He told me my jet pack design didn't work, and these millions of replicas were a waste. But my own worked -- didn't it? I did crash land. The stranger took me to safety and spoke to me in confidence. I woke up to Bush's "Machinehead" LOUD on the radio in the other room and lied there awhile, enjoying the song, before thinking I'd wake neighbors and scrambling to turn it off.
Bush - Machinehead
This is very, very important. If you don't know why, google is a good place to start. I have mixes to put up still, I haven't forgotten. Most nights, I fall asleep sadly, knowing I've lost the time to post them, again. Emma, China, Sam... I owe you girls. I'll get them up soon, perhaps in a vicious triple-bill. But in the meantime, read up on this. Between it and the madness spurred on by the RIAA, there's a lot to digest...
On a lighter, more beautiful note... George Lois.
But sometimes they don't make sense
Refrigerator
-threadless.org
I had the strangest dream last night. I slept violently, up and down between my couch and bed, each time picking up the dream where I had left it.
I remember flying, most of all. I had built a jet pack, and someone had decided to reproduce the design. I remember crash landing on a darkened suburban block. I remember a house and an open field, earlier, where an older man was tending to a giant swing set. I remember an ornate school, like a castle. I was looking for someone. I found someone, and I remember his water glass and David Mamet book. When I crash landed, I was greeted by a stranger. He told me my jet pack design didn't work, and these millions of replicas were a waste. But my own worked -- didn't it? I did crash land. The stranger took me to safety and spoke to me in confidence. I woke up to Bush's "Machinehead" LOUD on the radio in the other room and lied there awhile, enjoying the song, before thinking I'd wake neighbors and scrambling to turn it off.
Bush - Machinehead
This is very, very important. If you don't know why, google is a good place to start. I have mixes to put up still, I haven't forgotten. Most nights, I fall asleep sadly, knowing I've lost the time to post them, again. Emma, China, Sam... I owe you girls. I'll get them up soon, perhaps in a vicious triple-bill. But in the meantime, read up on this. Between it and the madness spurred on by the RIAA, there's a lot to digest...On a lighter, more beautiful note... George Lois.
<3 ryan at 7:53 AM
3 Comments:
i thought people in my dorky circle were the only ones who referenced folks like george lois. your growing interest in advertising is very interesting. very interesting indeed.
i understand you're busy, but a new post is well overdue!
hear hear!
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