I think the only worthwhile thing I've created lately is this blog, but that's kind of hard to take credit for. ome really smart enginers built the platform, and some smart group of marketers conspires to keep it free, and some really smart group of artists now fills it up with stuff.

Really bummed I missed the Mills reading- couldn't get away from students who were asking for make up office hours in time to get there. Here's virtual 'what up' to my people. Will make better efforts come January to reconnect with M-folks. Anyways, finished stone patio, which was kind of satisfying like writing something, except the client had all these nit-picky complaints that weren't interesting in the way my own or other artist's nit-picky complaints are interesting- they were just fucking stupid. Good to be remindd of why I hate slaving on a building project only to be rewarded with ingratitude and a sore back at the end of it (the money is always trivial and never at all worth it).

The one thing I did produce today was the product of getting my laptop, and a whole shit ton of not-back-up-work, stolen two months ago. The one place I did have some things backed up has only old and abandoned versions of things which I later reworked or discarded. Now I get to look at all this stuff as some kind of strage artifact. Here's the start of a cut piece made up of a few strands from two (and probably eventually five or six) documents:

suppose we (I) were (just) mistaken about just (want) what this (that) meant(same) your sureness(momentum!) then (could) no guarantee we(I) could (talk) head (backwards) north forever(from) and pass (this) ourselves searching(feeling) if what we really needed was to(to) go out. (its inception and show you that.) I to feeling this form backwards talk I could momentarily same. that just want I.