My beautiful friend Sara agreed to model her cosplay and Amulet of Mara for me! I had some fun with my "Intro to Computer Science" photoshop skills. You can get your own amulet here.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
People
And just when I'm sure that everyone is the same, the corrupt soul is one shared by all of humanity, it's not.
Today, there are about 7.094 billion people in the world.
Yesterday, there were 316,126,174 people in the US, and today even more.
That's about 4,394,153 people my age in the country, not giving or taking a year.
That means that even if there's only one decent person for every 100 terrible ones, that's still 43,941 fabulous people. And that's a hell of a lot of great people I'm going to meet.
Today, there are about 7.094 billion people in the world.
Yesterday, there were 316,126,174 people in the US, and today even more.
That's about 4,394,153 people my age in the country, not giving or taking a year.
That means that even if there's only one decent person for every 100 terrible ones, that's still 43,941 fabulous people. And that's a hell of a lot of great people I'm going to meet.
Dance Workshop
The theater has already been filled to bursting, and the audience spills over the seats, lining the aisles and filling the pit. I sit on the floor, raincoat, still damp, covering my crossed legs. It's strange to see the stage from this angle, face to floor, watching feet dancing, skimming, jumping, falling.
As the girls dance, the music pulses, and there's a certain sound I hadn't noticed before, a rainstick sound, a shhhhhuffle of soft sound, a cleansing quietness of hush and rhythm. And then it stops. The piece ends, there's a break as they metamorphose for the next in the darkened wings. The audience bubbles back to life for just a moment, and the pit becomes restless as the onlookers shift positions and spark pins and needles in sleeping limbs.
Two boys sit close to the stage, kindergarteners tops, holding onto the edge of the apron with small fingers and resting chins. Between the dances, they bobble up and down, squealing and pushing with a general disregard for the rest. As the show goes on, they get louder, squirming in their own skin.
There's a faster song, and the rainstick comes back, perfectly. It's then I realize that the sound is coming from the smaller boy in front, running his hands along the vents on the front edge of the stage. He's mesmerized by the dancers, and contributes with a faultless rhythm. I don't think he even knows what he's doing, or that anyone else notices it.
As the girls dance, the music pulses, and there's a certain sound I hadn't noticed before, a rainstick sound, a shhhhhuffle of soft sound, a cleansing quietness of hush and rhythm. And then it stops. The piece ends, there's a break as they metamorphose for the next in the darkened wings. The audience bubbles back to life for just a moment, and the pit becomes restless as the onlookers shift positions and spark pins and needles in sleeping limbs.
Two boys sit close to the stage, kindergarteners tops, holding onto the edge of the apron with small fingers and resting chins. Between the dances, they bobble up and down, squealing and pushing with a general disregard for the rest. As the show goes on, they get louder, squirming in their own skin.
There's a faster song, and the rainstick comes back, perfectly. It's then I realize that the sound is coming from the smaller boy in front, running his hands along the vents on the front edge of the stage. He's mesmerized by the dancers, and contributes with a faultless rhythm. I don't think he even knows what he's doing, or that anyone else notices it.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Finding
I wanted an adventure. I wanted to find meaning in something. I wanted to find a passionate love letter or a secret diary, something big. I needed to collect the pieces and put together a message.
I didn't find passion. But I found people, and I found things, and that was enough to not feel alone.
I didn't find passion. But I found people, and I found things, and that was enough to not feel alone.
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