Mostly automatic stream of consciousness...the kind of writing I learned from an excercise in my 8th grade english class in which we kept our pens moving for five minutes with out pausing...examining life...the state of the world...getting by on a tight budget...persuing interests in architecture, art, economics and trying to cobble out a life worth living.
samedi, mars 26, 2005
A SHOCK, THATS ALL IT WAS, IN THE DARKENED HOUSE. The girl struck by her partner very hard. It had staggered her, it was over the line, you wondered how she was standing. Her partner had clapped her to one side of the face with the full flat of his hand, and it had swung her right around toward the audience, almost knocked her off the stage, and she was hurt. The man in the eighth row from his angle hadn't seen it coming; but neither had she seen it you could almost believe, the actress herself. Something wronfg up there. He was stunned and amazed, he was honestly thrilled, not stunned at all.
phote taken with my lovely mini dv camera
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