54monkeys studio

SNDP: Romano Hip Hop

abby — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 16:10:52 +0000

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Saturday Night Dance Party: Live from Prague!

abby — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 16:08:18 +0000

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Sat Night Dance Party: Halloween Edition

abby — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 04:28:10 +0000

This one’s for you, Bauler.

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Sat Night Dance Party: Halloween Edition

abby — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 04:27:58 +0000

This one’s for you, Bauler.

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Bobcat Bob suggests the Good Ship Almighty stay in, have tea & watch movies today

abby — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 00:18:18 +0000

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Photo project

abby — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 00:04:56 +0000

My project this weekend is to make a photo story of this:

Steele and Bob discover a race of salamander-people whose entire culture is based around the art of feces-sculpting; after much indignation Steele and Bob introduce them to the discipline of the plasma cannon.

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May I offer you a washcloth?

abby — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 02:45:34 +0000

Are you in need of advice in your towel selection? Perhaps the choice between fluffy and fuzzy is too difficult to make unassisted.

Fortunately you have someone to turn to. In Japan, people have studied their whole lives, taken rigourous courses, apprenticed with the finest of masters, and passed a global certification to become a towel sommeliers to assist you in this most difficult of choices.

Rest assured, your drying needs will be handled with the utmost of care.

Like I said — DANCE PARTY

abby — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 03:20:00 +0000

via youtube.com

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Saturday night dance party

abby — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 03:14:26 +0000

via youtube.com

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Cuttlefish [Flickr]

54monkeys — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 18:31:02 PDT

54monkeys posted a photo:

go back to the start

abby — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 12:29:53 +0000

there was a time when the words came a lot more easily. they flowed from my brain and out of my fingers. daytime, nighttime. the middle of the night. 4am. fueled by a nauseating mix of passion and being 20 and diet soda and candy. a lot of candy. the editor was quieter, the time more invisible. i had all the time in the world to share secrets, feelings i didn’t know how to articulate, thoughts i was sure would change the world. i was not actually as creative as i hoped. i was a hack, exploring the limits of my willingness to stay up all night for no real reward. i ignored structure and called it “free writing”. i ignored grammar and common sense and punctuation and the concept of writing to the reader.

if i were to go back to the start, to do it over, to revise the plan, i would kick myself out of the chair and into a creative writing class. i would put myself in the midst of better writers and let my ego take the beating. i would stop with the writing as means to communicate feelings and instead learn how to speak, a talent that eludes me still.

that option is closed, though. and looking back only brings the shame of having wasted so much time on something i swear that i love to do. the only option is to go forward. to ask if i really do love to write. to realize that i ask too many rhetorical questions and don’t put enough of myself out there and rely on lots and lots of commas. to take a class that tears apart any writing i do. to study plot and structure and new words and grammar and use uppercase letters. to learn all over again. to go back to the start.