Thursday, May 29, 2008

Quantity or Quality?

Sooo... today's been an interesting one... 
You have NO idea how frustrated I am that I don't have today on videotape... I swear, this could... no, this SHOULD be a reality show! (without the typical reality show drunkenness and backstabbing). 

Where do I even start?!?  hmmm.... with za garbaaaaage (say it like you're freeeench), and Le critique of it? or the laugh yoga? or the plague of locusts??? Okay... so the "sc" word is actually "cicadas" ... don't show off because you remembered that from high school Latin....

Touched by a Cicada
There are quiet hours at Penland. No one is allowed to use any machinery from 11p-7a, but yet, it sounds like the Metals studio is constantly working saws and stuff.... NOPE! ... those are cicadas... they are LOUD and they are EVERYWHERE! Like a good bug-ologist I learned today that they do this every 18 years... they leave their shells (shells?? what's the proper name?) everywhere... It's like the bug version of "Left Behind."  Some leave their shells while climbing trees or the wood on the patio, outside my room... but there is no bug; Just a shell (or outer-covering???) of the bug that was. The rapture is happening at Penland... BEWARE all ye cicadas! But really... cicadas (a fun word to type...) are the sloths of the bugs... they are hit by more cars (and SUVS) in one summer, than June Bugs are in 10 years*!.... (things marked with an * may or may not be true... I made it up and it sounded reasonable).... but really, it's hard to walk without squishing one... dead or alive... (i swear if I would pick them up and glue them to glass .... I would be soooo post-modern... therefore: soooo cool... but I will not... so, i'm not cool- i know-- surprise, surprise...). I won't touch a Cicada... but when one dive-bombs me, I scream.

Eat Your Heart Out, Bob Ross!
The atmosphere here is so cute that I just want to pinch its metaphorical cheeks and say "goochie goochie goo!" It sounds ridiculous, I know... but if you saw it, you'd know exactly what I mean. In the cute little field, with the cute little hill, right in front of cute lil' Penland, there lies the cute lil' home of the two cute little llamas, who I've named Luigi and Loogey Llama... I say hello to them everyday, with a safe distance from Loogey. I went to the cute lil' store today... and there was another cute little hill, in front of the store,  but instead of llamas, there were sheep. i expected the Riccola jingle to start playing.... Tonight when I was walking home, the mountains looked so ridiculously beautiful, that it looked cheesier than a cheesy postcard...  (half of the mountain was lit by the pinkish glow of the sunset).  Cheesy, like a Bob Ross late-night how-to-paint infomercial... (I'm not knocking Bob, the man is a late-night marketing genius... plus he must have seen beautiful sunsets like these... because, before tonight, i didn't know they really existed.).

Critique c'est chic:
Today we had our group narrative projects critiqued... first we learned about critique, and critiquing... now I KNOW they are crap! "they" meaning critiques, not projects... our project was fan-tast-ic! We had a floating de-constructed bird cage with glass bubbles holding white feathers floating... I even added a black cloth under the project for drama... The next group found glass on the give away shelf and put glass on the place on the ground where a classmate was sick on Monday... The instructors said a lot about form and the piece's historical and philosophical narratives (which was BS and even the group members said so), and T even said, "you should have buried it." Next time, instead of actually working on a project, I may just say that I buried my project (SOO post-modern!). I wish I could remember what was said during the critiques... it was so funny, that I kept telling myself, "remember this, no one will believe this, you'd better remember this..." but I was giggling too hard (on the inside) to remember verbatim... 

It was something like, "I love how the cigarette butt on the ground is perfectly placed next to the trash, and is next to the stick,  by the tree, outside by the garbage can.. Wait. What?! That's not your project?! Oh?! Oh, that's just trash? Hmmm... So, where is your project?" 

If you think I'm kidding, I am... but I'm not exaggerating. If only I had it on tape!!!

Giggle Guru:

I'm done typing (I'll post photos tomorrow), but Google "laugh yoga" if you get a chance... I went to Laugh Yoga today... you have to make yourself laugh, and everyone ends up really laughing... hard! I haven't laughed until I cried and my stomach hurt in a long time... what's funny (ha ha) is that that I started laughing at how ridiculous the concept was, and how ridiculous I felt doing it.. and ended up laughing for real. I'd go again. :)

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