Video Clip 2

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDBiqUWRtMo

Video Clip

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MLnn96n3Lpg

Flash Story Post #2

The Teddy Bear

The Teddy Bear sat on the night stand next to the saddest little girl in the world. She would place the Teddy Bear on top of the night stand and she would wake up with him in her arms. It had become a game they shared. The Teddy Bear would wait until he was sure she was asleep and then he would crawl into the bed and snuggle up in her arms. They hadn’t played they game since her daddy started coming into the room.

The Teddy Bear could not see what daddy was doing but he knew it frightened the girl, so he did not like it. The daddy stopped moving his hand after a while and then walked out of the room, his hands cupped in front of him. As soon as the door closed behind him the saddest little girl in the world began to cry. 

The Teddy Bear stood up and jumped from the nightstand to where the girl cried and he snuggled into her arms. Oh how he wished he wasn’t only allowed to let children see him come alive. He wished he could do something.

Flash Story Post #1

The Saddest Little Girl in the World

This is the story of the saddest little girl in the world. She was crying, her tears creating muddy trails on her cheek and she was sitting in the dirt outside of her parent’s trailer. She wasn’t supposed to sit in the dirt. 

The saddest little girl in the world saw her daddy’s old car pull up to the house and park and she stared at her daddy as he got out of the car. He was filthy like she was, covered in mud. Her daddy walked past her and he looked down at her and she saw that same look he’d given her last night, and the night before. He had looked at her that way from across the dark room, his hands down his underpants. She had stared back at him, and he just kept staring with his hand in his underpants. 

The saddest little girl in the world watched as her daddy opened the front door of the trailer and walked inside to say hello to mommy. She stood up and walked over to the water hose so she could wash away the dirt on her face. 

Pg. 102 - 108 Reading Response

I think that it's very smart to fight what you believe is the right decision on a film. If you have thoughtful insight share it.
That being said, let it go when your boss, the director said "That doesn't work."

The theme of the movie would be how family can be a pain in the ass, but they’re still family. They love us and we love them. Sometimes they do things that annoy us, but later on it’s just a good story. I would show images of the cousins laughing and annoyed with one another. Then, when the youngest boy cousin scares the girl cousins, they’re almost pissed, but they start laughing hysterically. 

BEGINNING: The four oldest cousins are having fun sitting in the living room, leaving out the youngest boy.

MIDDLE: The two girl cousins hear a noise at their window, and a “monster” tries to get through it, making the girls freak out and scream.

END: It turns out the monster was the youngest boy, wearing a disguise; he is very pleased with himself. 

My Place Unvisited

I told myself at the beginning of the year that it wouldn't get too cold in Santa Fe until after Thanksgiving. I would just leave my winter clothing at home until then. However, as I got out of my truck at the base of my mountain and looked up, seeing snow spread out over the landscape, I wished I had a winter coat. I had had dressed in as many layers as I could: a t-shirt, a thing long sleeve t-shirt, a light rain jacket, and my poncho. However, these weren't enough to keep me too warm from the forty degree temperatures. I wished I had a pair of gloves at least, and a hat to shelter my ears.
I climbed on, the first part of the climb was never hard anyways. Besides it was a beautiful morning. Not a cloud in the sky. From where I stood the sun had not yet risen over the mountains, but it cast beautiful shadows across the valley below me. Everything was a little more dead looking than before. The cold air must have kept the animals and birds in hiding.
I climbed past the easy part of the climb and reached one of the many steep inclines halfway up and began to warm up slightly. My blood pumped with the exercise and I felt my fingers regain some feeling. However, halfway up, at the blue bench, I got chilled again. The sweat on my body began to freeze, and my warm clothes did nothing to help me. I sat down on the bench, rubbing my arms up and down my body to try and warm myself and I looked out over the landscape. Why did it look so warm, when I knew how cold it was?
My lips trembled, my teeth chattered, and my ears felt numb. This wasn't my place. My place was warm. Maybe I'll come back after Thanksgiving with a winter coat.

I started my decent.

Clipping Files #3 - Bullying

http://www.qsaltlake.com/2011/11/05/lady-gaga-launches-anti-bullying-born-this-way-foundation/

Letters From Iraq

It’s the summer of 2010. Morgan is a 17 year old girl who is being forced to move 

to an extremely small town in Iowa with her mother and the baby Cate. She has just 

graduated from high school, but will not be going to college for a while. Across the street 

from them lives a young boy by the name of Blaine Loyd. Blain immediately shows an 

interest in Morgan who responds with the cold shoulder. He tries for several weeks to 

get her to go on a date with him but she refuses. Finally, she agrees, but only if he stops 

bugging her. On the date, Morgan finds that Blain is charming, polite and likable. At the 

end of the date she agrees to another one. Soon, Morgan begins to find that she likes 

Blain very much. Blain asks her to go out with him and she agrees.

Four months later, in October, Blain turns 18 and he enlists in the military. He 

says his father served in the military, and he wants to follow in his footsteps. Morgan is 

upset, but Blain promises to write her as many letters as he can. Morgan makes him 

promise something else: to come home alive. Blain promises, and is then shipped off to 

boot camp.

A few months later Blain is fighting in Afghanistan, but he still sends letters to 

Morgan. He can’t tell her much about where he is, but he lets her know he’s fine. He 

also tells her that he thinks he’s in love with her. When Blain comes home for his Military 

Leave, he tells Morgan that he plans to marry her as soon as his service is completed.

In August of 2011, Morgan gets a call from Blain’s mother. She tells Morgan that 

Blain was killed in action. His helicopter went down and he was killed, along with 37 

other U.S. soldiers. Blain is shipped home, and buried in the local cemetery. Morgan 

places the letters of his in the hole with him, saying one last goodbye. 

TAKE OUT - CONCEPT WORKSHEET

TITLE FOR CONCEPT: “Take Out”

PROJECT VENUE / FORMAT: I would show this film at a film festival and share it over YouTube. Because it is a short film, it would better serve itself at film festivals rather than on TV. YouTube would allow it to spread across the globe, and it would be involving enough to keep audience members engaged through the short running time. 

RUNNING TIME: Approximately 14 - 18 minutes.

Beginning: Approximately 3 - 4 minutes

Middle: Approximately 8 - 9 minutes

Climax: Approximately 2 - 3 minutes

End: Approximately  1 - 2 minutes

TYPE OF CONTENT: A live action film with a realistic situation and characters. 

VISUAL LOOKS OF CONCEPT: Mainly dark, to express the dark feelings the characters feel towards each other. Normal clothing, normal house. 

STORY STATEMENT: A business man who suspects his wife of cheating on him follows her car after she leaves her work. She’s supposed to be going to a yoga class, but the husband follows her to a man’s house and his suspicions are confirmed. When she gets home that night he confronts her about her adultery. She tries to deny the accusations at first, but once she realizes she is caught she admits that she has been having an affair. The man, very angry, asks her why if she wasn’t happy with her life why she didn’t just leave instead of having an affair. The wife defends herself, saying she hadn’t wanted to cheat on him, she just needed to feel loved, and she says he never makes her feel special. After a severe argument, the man finally realizes that, although his wife did cheat on him, he ultimately drove her to. The woman decides to leave the house, and they part ways, not angry at each other any more. 

NARRATIVE OUTLINE: A man named WESTON HAYES is sitting inside his car across the street from an office building, eating take out chinese food. He checks his watch repeatedly and continues to look at the entrance to the building. After a few moments his wife, JANET HAYES, walks out of the office building. He’s been waiting for her, and when she gets in her car down the street and drives away, he follows her at a distance. She leads him past a street titled Freemont St., and he is curious as to why they are passing the street. After a while of following her she leads him down a neighborhood street titled Bleeker St. She parks outside of a very nice looking two story house, and Weston watches as Janet walks up to the front door. A man opens it, kisses her and she walks inside. Weston is very angry.

A few hours later Janet comes home with Chinese Food, and she is wearing yoga attire. Trying to think of exactly how to approach the situation, Weston merely says that he already had Chinese early that day, and asks her how her yoga class went. She says it went well, and with that information he corners her. He reminds her that the yoga class she takes is on Freemont and asks what she was doing on Bleeker street. She suddenly realizes that he knows, but still pretends to be indifferent, saying she wasn’t on Bleeker street. He tells her that he saw her with that man at his house, and knows that she is cheating on him. He’s been wondering for a while, he saw many signs. Why was she gone at the late night yoga class for many hours every wednesday and why, when she came home, did she smell like cologne that wasn’t his. 

He asks her what the guy’s name is, and knowing she can’t escape, she admits that his name is James and that he’s a pharmacist, and then she begins to turn the tables on him. She begins attacking everything she can about Weston, saying that he’s numb and irrational and jealous and that he loves his job more than he loves her; she uses all of these problems to say that Weston played a part in her adultery. Weston is outraged and he breaks some plates in anger. He accuses her of being ungrateful, saying that all he’s ever tried to do for her was give her the life she wanted. Janet says she never wanted this life. She never wanted to feel alone and unloved. Weston resorts back to his earlier argument, saying that he gives and gives to her and all she ever does is beg for more and when she can’t get more she goes off and screws James. She slaps him and he tells her to leave the house.

As Janet packs her clothes, she breaks down, telling Weston that she didn’t want to cheat on him, but she felt like she had to, so she could feel like somebody on the earth though she was special. She says all she ever wanted from Weston was for him to come home before his dinner got cold, and that she wanted him to talk to her instead of watching the news, and that she wanted him to kiss her goodnight instead of coming home after she’s asleep.

These words sting against Weston’s ego, but they finally reach him. He realizes that he pushed Janet to cheat on him. He apologizes for everything and says that they’ll try to work on the marriage with counseling. Janet apologizes too, because she can’t stay with him, because she can’t live the life she’s been living anymore. Weston says he loves her still, and she says she doesn’t love him anymore. Weston understands and Janet leaves the next morning. 

WHAT CAN AN AUDIENCE SHARE WITH THIS?: I think this story can perfectly share both aspects of a failing marriage. You can see the side of the man, who tries as hard as he can to accomplish all that he’s ever wanted to do in the pursuit of giving his wife happiness and the life she’s always wanted. Then she betrays him, cheating on him with another man and hiding it from him for who knows how long. Instead of just leaving, she goes behind his back to live another life one night a week with someone else. However, the woman defends herself by saying the man has tried to give her all the material things she could ever want, but in that pursuit he has lost sight of what she truly wanted; love. She wanted to be kissed, touched. She wanted a good conversation, she wanted to share something with the man she was living with. Soon his apathetic attitude towards the marriage drove her to find someone else who could quench her thirst for love. 

Both the husband and the wife were wrong, and right at the same time. I think an audience can learn that there is a side to every story, and that they can learn a lot from each other when they can have a simple conversation. Material things are finite, love can be infinite, and it’s important to not confuse the two. 

Evocative Object Background

I have no name, I am merely metal. I am copper, and I am silver.
I am the hunter and I am the hunted.
On my back is the cold of the kill. The piercing weapon used by native tribes.
On my front I bear the symbol on the west. The grand buffalo, engraved in silver upon the coin.
Both grudgingly embrace each other, remembering their past.

The arrow remembers how many times the buffalo evaded it, and left it's tribe hungry.
The buffalo remembers the many family members and friends that were taken by the arrow. The buffalo remembers the day of his own death.

Neither wish to be near one another in the afterlife, but they will remain as one. Always touching.
Perhaps to remind them of the destruction both of them brought upon the other.

Video Clip

2:36Add to

Santa Fe Art Institue Field Trip

I don't know, I don't really like this kind of art. The art where people say that they delved deep into themselves and then created an abstract image to convey the thought. For the most part, the point is to not cater to mindless art observers, but to challenge those who view the art to think more than they normally would. The point is to study it ... all I do is look at it and wonder if the artist is actually trying to say something or if they're full of bullshit.

I definitely agree that making thought provoking art is more commendable than mindless work for the mindless viewers, however, to me art is not just an expression of one's self. Art is an expression of your view of humanity that I believe should relate to all. Art should be understood, not abstract to the point of brain aneurism.

Personally, color, moving images and celestial music are not enough to fascinate me.

Dream Journal Post #1

I was with my roommate Baxter and my friends Liz and Aaron and my girlfriend Katie and an older woman I did not recognize but who seemed to be a part of our group and who was friendly to me. We were walking the streets of Albuquerque at night. (I don't know why I knew we were in Albuquerque, there were no landmarks that told me so. I just knew.)

I was talking to the strange woman when out of the corner of my eye I saw a light. It wasn't bright, but it was enough to distract me. I looked up to see what appeared to be a cluster of three stars. They were lined up vertically, were slightly bigger than the rest of the stars around them, and they were a deep read color. I laughed slightly, nervous and confused. "Hey guys! Check out those stars!" As soon as I had said this, they disappeared. All of my friends looked at the sky curiously, not seeing the stars either. Then, everything got very still and eerily quiet.

Then the stars reappeared, this time they were deep green. And then I yelled out as the light from the stars hit my eyes. I wasn't hurt or blinded, but the sudden brightness surprised me. It was as if a small green beam of light had traveled trillions of miles from the stars to reach me and hit me in the face. I didn't feel different, I was just in a state of complete awe. Then I realized that my friends were worriedly asking me what was wrong. The silence lifted and the stars disappeared again. "What the fuck was that? What just happened?" My friends were just as confused as I was. None of them has seen the light.

Then the older woman in our group screamed. I looked at her in disbelief as she stood before me, her skin glowing bright yellow. She was looking into the sky, the same look of awe I felt plastered onto my face only moments ago. No one in our group knew what was going on. They did not see the stars and did not see that she was glowing. I caught a glimpse of myself in a shop window and saw that I had been glowing green and the last bit of light emitting from my body faded as I drew nearer to the window.

Our friends laughed at us, calling us weirdos and they walked on down the street. The woman and I followed, trying to convince them we weren't crazy. We passed by a small carnival, it's bright colors flowing into the street where we walked. As we passed by the exit I saw a boy a little older than me half carrying a girl out of the fair. At a closer look I saw that a red light slowly left her body, and her eyes were wide like mine. I remembered that when I first saw the stars they were red, and ignoring my friends questions, I ran towards the carnival and the couple.

"Is she okay!?" I asked as I stopped very near them. The young man looked at me warily.
"Yeah she's alright, she's just a little confused." I looked at the girl, who did not make eye contact with me. She was looking up at the sky fervently. Before I could stop myself I yelled out, "I saw them too!" She finally looked at me, broke away from her boyfriend and got very close to my face. She was looking in my eyes, and then I saw it. Her eyes had specks of red hidden in her blue eye coloring.
"What were they?" She asked me. I did not break eye contact with her and answered, "I don't know."
We finally broke eye contact and look up at the sky where we had seen the stars. I knew in that moment that nothing would ever be the same.

Observational Post #3

Theodore "Teddy" Ross, is CEO of an international technology company, and he is quite wealthy. In his short life (33 years) he has risen in power, been married three times, and partied hard. He has also recently contracted AIDS. The doctors say it is a rare and aggressive form of the disease that is slowly going to kill his body. There is no cure; there is only the act of making him comfortable while he dies.
In denial, Teddy tries to live his life to the fullest while he's still alive. He resigns from the company, and embarks on a journey around the world, to the greatest places on the planet. Along the way, he encounters people who help change him. They show him a side of the world he's never seen: poverty. The pain he sees reminds him of how privileged he has been. He is slowly getting more and more sick, and he decides to leave his trip and go see his father, who he has been estranged with for ten years. He apologizes to his dad, and is able to die in peace.

My Place October

I'm alone once again, having left my truck, the city of Santa Fe, my friends and my troubles behind. As I ascend I will forget about the homework, the midterms, and the family nagging; at least for an hour or two. I am slowly making my way to one of the many peaks that surround Santa Fe, following a path that winds its way up the side of the mountain. The dirt below my feet crunches underneath the weight of my boots as I walk rhythmically: One step, two step, one step, two step, left foot, right foot, left, right. I perfectly time my breath, which reveals itself in the morning air, so I do not exhaust myself early on in the hike. I am dressed very warmly, completely opposite of my last hike when I stripped my jacket from my overheated body. I hum "The Cave" by Mumford and Sons as I climb.
The air is still, and the trees that tower over me seem to be frozen. Frozen in a time where man didn't exist, and they watch my arrival warily, along with the dozens of animals I encountered, but did not see. Their movement, their dashes for cover as I passed, were the only noises that interrupted the silence of the forest.
Forty minutes after the start of my climb, I reach the end of the trail. I pause, catching my breath and I look out over the landscape at Santa Fe. It seems so far away. The bustling of the traffic, tourists and retirees don't even emit a whisper into the air from this distance. The sound of the wind is all I hear, like last time. Unlike last time, the air bites at my cheeks and ears, playfully nibbling at the skin as it passes through me. I close my eyes and, as if in routine, inhale deeply, smelling the Spirit around me.
I missed this place.

Observational Journal - Post #2

Joey's friend Henry claims to have seen the Sandman. That night, Joey tries to stay awake to see the Sandman but he slowly falls asleep. He is woken up abruptly and is now flying through the sky on his red Radio Flyer wagon. He is then dropped onto a very strange ship that flies through the air. The ship is rigged with large, billowing sails and when the wind blows, they seem to glow like they are covered in thousands of small stars. The body of the boat is colorful and is adorned with intriguing objects such as moons, stars, planets, and many hourglasses of all sizes filled with sparkling sand. A great balloon that keeps the boat afloat. The captain of the ship is the very tall, thin, delightful, long-robed, bearded, and jolly Sandman who greets Joey warmly and allows him on board. He shows Joey what he actually does at night. The Sandman soars through the skies, stopping only to hang large stars in the darkness. Each star is engraved with a child's name. The Sandman then takes Joey to see all of the sleeping children around the world . . .

Based on the 1994 children's book "Ship of Dreams" by Dean Morrissey

Observational Journal - Post #1

Five astronauts are stranded millions miles away in space when they lose contact with NASA. They are alone for weeks, their supplies running low and their sanity wearing thin. What they don't realize is that a nuclear war on earth has destroyed more than half of the human life on earth and they have been forgotten. No one is going to bring them home.

Clipping Files #1 - Bullying

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62FHKY7Ctbs

Off The Beaten Track and Out of the Car

"Tom you just missed the exit," my friend Chloe said. In disbelief I quickly looked away from the road and behind me and sure enough I was leaving behind the St. Francis Drive exit. I cursed and slammed my hand down on the wheel. It had been a long day and the incredibly greasy and fattening Chinese food I had consumed only a few minutes earlier was not settling well with my digestive system. Chloe reassured me that the world was not going to combust into a fiery ball of destruction because I missed the exit.
"We'll just take the next one and loop our way back. Santa Fe's a small city, we're gonna get back to school sooner or later," she said.
I responded by saying. "Yeah, or maybe we'll just end up back home . . ."
Chloe sighed, we were both missing our homes. I glanced up and saw the next exit sign: SANTA FE OPERA NEXT RIGHT. "Hmm," I thought. I've always wanted to see that, My friend from Lubbock, Josh, told me his grandfather directed the Opera years ago, before it burned down. I pointed the exit out to Chloe and we both agreed to go.
Once we weaved our way up a small road we came to the gate of the opera house just as a man was coming out, who graciously allowed us to drive into the parking lot. We parked and gazed upon the Opera House, which was beautiful even from the outside. I heard Chloe gasp and say, "Look! Oh, Tom look!"
I followed her gaze and witnessed the beautiful scene before us. The tall, green mountains east of Santa Fe were being clothed in purple clouds, the light cast from the setting sun. The contrast of colors and landscapes of the mountains and the clouds both astonished and surprised me. We had been driving next to those mountains for many minutes and it was only now that I realized how beautiful they looked. The radio in my car suddenly began playing "The Edge of Glory," by Lady Gaga. Chloe and I laughed, looked at each other and we silently agreed. We climbed up on top of my truck and sang along to the song as we stretched out our arms, looking up at the royal giants in the distance.
I had forgotten about my desire to go home for a moment, and for an even shorter moment the indigestion of bad Chinese food left me.
This was what beautiful was.

Group Story Project - MY PICTURES

Turn Cluster

A high school graduate kills his best friends and girlfriend in a drunken crash after a post graduation booze party. He is sent to prison with three counts of man slaughter and when he is released 25 years later at the age of 43, the world is a very different place. He must cope with his past and his present situation, having no job and no hope for a future.

Family Story

What I've Become Aware of Since Attending SFUAD

I used to think I was fine with being myself. Back at home in Lubbock, TX, I used to ridicule my friend Josh for always dwelling on what others thought. I told him he needed to live in the moment, be his own person and not care about other's opinions of him.

It was only recently that I realized I was such a hypocrite. 

Who was I to say, "Be your own person"? I didn't even know who I was, and I still don't. 

Who was I to advise, "Ignore the negative opinions of your peers, parents and pastors"? Didn't I try to please and impress all of those people every minute of every day? Wasn't I the one who was always secretly afraid of what the world my think of me? 

Who was I to say any of this?

I think the whole time I was subconsciously telling myself off for being so compliant with the wishes of the world. Sure I talked big, and occasionally I'd actually walk the talk, but truthfully I was scared shitless just like Josh. Scared of what people would think because I loved them and they loved me.

Here ... I don't know anyone. I haven't had years to accumulate feelings of love for them and so I honestly don't give shit about what they think of me. It's funny, in a place so unfamiliar I've never felt so able to be me. It's a new start. I can be whomever I want to be.

I'm not sure I've actually learned anything yet. I think I'm still in the process of learning. All I know is that I now have somewhere to go, and that's enough. 

Class Writing: Perhaps Searching

I am looking for something.
What, I don't know.
Perhaps solitude.
Perhaps a good social circle.
Perhaps something beautiful.
Perhaps something quite ordinary.
Perhaps something new.
Perhaps something very familiar.
Perhaps I'm just looking to give me something to do.
Do I continue going?
Or do I turn around and start completely over?
Do I even bother with either?
Maybe I'll just stay here, looking at this current view forever . . .
but what would be the point in that?

Spud

To me, spud is not a small potato. Spud was a white, soft seal, filled with tiny beads that crunched when you hugged him tight. He was no bigger than a small puppy, and he could fly. I'd sit him on top of my ceiling fan and when the motors cranked and the blades spun, he would soar through the air, his small red cape flapping in the wind. He was MY super hero. He would comfort me when I'd had a bad day, and he would 'beat up' all of the bullies, who were in the shape of a small plastic velociraptor.
Spud was not a potato. Spud was my friend.
I lost him when I was ten.

My Spot

Everything seems to have a different meaning on this mountain. Why do I suddenly feel every breath of wind? Why is it that there are so many more birds and clouds in the sky? What of the sky? Is it more blue? Can I breath easier?
Why do the ideas come so naturally when I'm on this mountain top high??

Having No Answers At All

THE BEAR and THE LIZARD

The Lizard is running in place.

The Bear is sitting down, meditating.

The Lizard is running in place still.

The Bear is still meditating.

The Lizard runs past the bear and then drops to the ground right next to it, doing fast stretches.

LIZARD: Hey whatcha doing??

The Bear says nothing.

LIZARD: HEY BEAR! I said whatcha doing?!

BEAR: I’m meditating ...

LIZARD: What’s that??

BEAR: It’s where I train my mind into a mode of consciousness to realize benefit.

LIZARD: ... huh?

BEAR: I got the definition off of Wikipedia.

LIZARD: Whatever that is! ... So what’s the point of this meditation??

BEAR: Well, at the end of a long day, it’s nice to sit down in a ... quiet atmosphere ... and just release all of the tension and stress you’ve accumulated throughout the day through deep breathing - 

LIZARD: That sounds boring as hell!!

BEAR: To each their own.

LIZARD: Besides, I don’t have time to meditate! I’m a lizard! I’m always moving! You see ... I’m a triathlete!! 

BEAR: Sometimes it’s worth it to stop moving for as long as you can, sit down, and smell the flowers.

LIZARD: ... Hmmmm ... WELL! Looks like I gotta go! CATCH YA LATER BEAR! 

The Lizard runs away.

The Bear continues to meditate.

...

The Lizard walks back to the bear and sits down next to him.

LIZARD: You know, I’m tired of running. Let’s meditate.

I am from . . .

I am from the red and white coffee mug on the counter.

From the green leather sofas and the tan, rough carpet.

I am from the one story house with the metal roof

With the scent of a home cooked meal the the feel of a spotted furry friend.

I am from the water,

The water that trickles down the pond-less waterfall next to the magnolia tree

whose long gone limbs I remember

as if they were my own.

I am from sunday lunches and the family board games.

From the Crazy Aunt Leslie and the Bible Thumper Aunt Tizzie.

I am from days at the lake and Thanksgiving football,

and from the complete and absolute craziness that is my family.

I am from church and yes ma'ams and no ma'ams

and from the angles that have blessed my mom.

I'm from Saturday morning biscuits and honey with Chief and Nonnie.

I'm from Lubbock, TX and Ireland and the tribes of the Apache.

Mom's macaroni and cheese and Dad's chicken. Nonnie's rum cake.

From the terrible wreck.

The wreck that lead to Codine and vodka.

Memaw's old house which we still drive by.

The many photo albums on the shelf.

I am from that which has made me.

Tom Grimes 8-30-11

Why Blog?

I've had a blog, and I hated it. It was probably the biggest waste of my time.
Then again, soon after starting my account I found that everyone on that particular blogging site were a bunch of self absorbed ass holes.
That being said, this is a different site and it's a new start, so I am going to go into this with an open mind.
Plus it's required for my Ideation class at Santa Fe University of Art and Design, which is, after all, my absolute favorite class here.
And no, I am not saying this because my teacher views my blog. It really is my favorite and I enjoy it.
Expect lot's of nonsensical and random ideas coming out of this nobody.