Random
Why does life get in the way everytime I have the inspiration or desire to be creative? WHY?!
I totally adore those random song drabbles going around the House/Wilson community right now. The first time I saw the prompt
I thought, What a good idea! It really made me want to try it myself. The problem is that I haven't really written any fic in ages, and I've never tried a drabble before. The second problem is that I'm not really sure how to follow the prompt. I got my song lists (I made two lists of ten, just in case) of what songs came up on shuffle on my Mp3 player. I tried to make the drabbles connect as well as follow the order they appeared. The prompt mentioned using what feeling you get from the song to write it as well as the title, but I think the lyrics crept their way in to the two I attempted. However, this made for probably the fastest transition from gen to near-smut slash that has ever been seen in fic, the second of which kept trying to insinuate itself into a full-blown ficlet which I'm tempted to entertain. I'm wondering if I should try them in a different order...or not try and made them continguous. I think I might be thinking too hard about this. >.< I was really hoping this would get my writing muscles back in order to work on that "shades of blue" Hauvilson bunny that I've been wanting to work on. All I've managed on that is short bursts of writing that are no where near completed.
Of course, it's hard to concentrate on fic when school is getting so crazy. We only have a few weeks left of class before finals when our film project is due and we have yet to shoot even a second of footage. Although we have scheduled a shoot date for the 21st at the cemetery, a location that took a lot of work on my part (and a certain amount of polite and thinly-masked begging) to get. I still haven't met one of our principal actresses, either, as she has failed to show up to our last two meetings. Getting Epicentre, the concert venue we're using as the club scene in the film, is not really a matter of if but when. The guy we need to talk to is almost never there. Not only that, the apartment location is still, uh, un-located. I'm really trying not to panic. Really.
I'm tired of my life drawing class. I don't plan on working with charcoal on my own, and it has obviously not helped me much at all with my pencil-work, as my latet attempt at a piece of fanart that was floating around in my head demonstrates. And he wants us to do a back-muscle drawing this weekend. Why?
As usual, I have last minute homework to do for my Soc class. I admit, the class is fairly interesting, and I find the issues raised coming up more and more in daily life. I find myself using sociological arguments for some of my everyday discussions now, which is sorta weird. I'm kinda tempted to take the Soc class on human sexuality to find out what the source of people's hangups concering homosexuality are all about. Then again, it's totally not a transfer requirement. I need to knock more of those classes out....and I still haven't figured out what those are exactly. I talked to a rep at the Academy of Art in San Francisco, the school I want to transfer to. Most of his advice for my classes boiled down to was this "Take that class here, it's better and geared towards artists." Does that mean easier? Hm. However, he did say I'm not required to take math. YAY!
What a weird relationship I'm in....
I hate math and am trying to go to an art school to avoid it and my husband wants to start school so he can become a math teacher. O.o LoL
On another unrelated note:
The 25th anniversary of Radix, the first novel by my favorite author A.A. Attanasio, was this August. There is so much Iove about the book. His writing style is so lyrical and descriptive, although incredibly intellectual and existential. Half the time I have no idea what he's talking about, but I love the way he says it. I've looked for hardcover editions of the book, and no matter how many times I've seen it, the staggering price at which copies go for never fails to make my stomache jump into my chest and stay there for about 5 minutes. The cheapest copy I've found is $134...while the most expensive runs at $1,066! Apparently this is because not only is this book rare and out of print (and probably has a cult following), but only 1000 of the first ed. hardcovers were ever printed. My mother keeps telling me this is an investment I should make. But, wow, what an investment...
I totally adore those random song drabbles going around the House/Wilson community right now. The first time I saw the prompt
I thought, What a good idea! It really made me want to try it myself. The problem is that I haven't really written any fic in ages, and I've never tried a drabble before. The second problem is that I'm not really sure how to follow the prompt. I got my song lists (I made two lists of ten, just in case) of what songs came up on shuffle on my Mp3 player. I tried to make the drabbles connect as well as follow the order they appeared. The prompt mentioned using what feeling you get from the song to write it as well as the title, but I think the lyrics crept their way in to the two I attempted. However, this made for probably the fastest transition from gen to near-smut slash that has ever been seen in fic, the second of which kept trying to insinuate itself into a full-blown ficlet which I'm tempted to entertain. I'm wondering if I should try them in a different order...or not try and made them continguous. I think I might be thinking too hard about this. >.< I was really hoping this would get my writing muscles back in order to work on that "shades of blue" Hauvilson bunny that I've been wanting to work on. All I've managed on that is short bursts of writing that are no where near completed.
Of course, it's hard to concentrate on fic when school is getting so crazy. We only have a few weeks left of class before finals when our film project is due and we have yet to shoot even a second of footage. Although we have scheduled a shoot date for the 21st at the cemetery, a location that took a lot of work on my part (and a certain amount of polite and thinly-masked begging) to get. I still haven't met one of our principal actresses, either, as she has failed to show up to our last two meetings. Getting Epicentre, the concert venue we're using as the club scene in the film, is not really a matter of if but when. The guy we need to talk to is almost never there. Not only that, the apartment location is still, uh, un-located. I'm really trying not to panic. Really.
I'm tired of my life drawing class. I don't plan on working with charcoal on my own, and it has obviously not helped me much at all with my pencil-work, as my latet attempt at a piece of fanart that was floating around in my head demonstrates. And he wants us to do a back-muscle drawing this weekend. Why?
As usual, I have last minute homework to do for my Soc class. I admit, the class is fairly interesting, and I find the issues raised coming up more and more in daily life. I find myself using sociological arguments for some of my everyday discussions now, which is sorta weird. I'm kinda tempted to take the Soc class on human sexuality to find out what the source of people's hangups concering homosexuality are all about. Then again, it's totally not a transfer requirement. I need to knock more of those classes out....and I still haven't figured out what those are exactly. I talked to a rep at the Academy of Art in San Francisco, the school I want to transfer to. Most of his advice for my classes boiled down to was this "Take that class here, it's better and geared towards artists." Does that mean easier? Hm. However, he did say I'm not required to take math. YAY!
What a weird relationship I'm in....
I hate math and am trying to go to an art school to avoid it and my husband wants to start school so he can become a math teacher. O.o LoL
On another unrelated note:
The 25th anniversary of Radix, the first novel by my favorite author A.A. Attanasio, was this August. There is so much Iove about the book. His writing style is so lyrical and descriptive, although incredibly intellectual and existential. Half the time I have no idea what he's talking about, but I love the way he says it. I've looked for hardcover editions of the book, and no matter how many times I've seen it, the staggering price at which copies go for never fails to make my stomache jump into my chest and stay there for about 5 minutes. The cheapest copy I've found is $134...while the most expensive runs at $1,066! Apparently this is because not only is this book rare and out of print (and probably has a cult following), but only 1000 of the first ed. hardcovers were ever printed. My mother keeps telling me this is an investment I should make. But, wow, what an investment...