The Designs of Humanity

Sometimes I think about who we are.

there’s a working man working man

photo of old
what is it inside us that always wants to be doing something? it’s common knowlege that there are never enough hours in the day. why? is it possible that this desire to create is in our very nature? when an artist creates a painting, he/she is proud of it because it’s a display of talent. it’s easy enough to write off this pride as greedy, but what if there’s something more to creation? each painting painted has a life of its own. to change even the slightest brush stroke would be to kill what it was, and reclaim life as something else.
in old photographs – really old photographs – many times people would move during a picture, as it took much longer to properly expose a slide of film. for the people in the photo, it was a mistake, but for the people viewing the photos years later, it brings up questions. did the moving person move on purpose? were they not aware they were being photographed? if they did know, would they have stopped for the camera anyway? judgements of character could even be made. in this way, the photograph’s life is changing from the form in which it was originally created. every time it sends a new message to someone, it changes. keep your eyes open next time you open the family album.


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how often do we really take in a deep breath? today i had the opportunity to take the deepest breath i’ve had in a while. any of you who know me probably know that my back’s messed up. my wonderful girlfriend, mindy vixie gave me a really killer backrub, thus allowing my back and chest to be relaxed. when she had finished the back rub, i immediately noticed that i could breathe deeper. upon realizing this, i took that legendary breath. the cares of the last week – the stress, the emotions, everything – escaped when that breath exited my lungs. they were all blown away with my used up air. it was quite the experience. i’ve tried stopping to smell the roses, but rarely has it had the effect of a good, clean, deep breath of fresh air.

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brothers on a hotel bed

“You may tire of me as our December sun is setting
‘Cause I’m not who I used to be
No longer easy on the eyes
These wrinkles masterfully disguise
The youthful boy below
who turned your way and saw
Something he was not looking for
Both a beginning and an end
But now he lives inside someone he does not recognize
When he catches his reflection on accident

On the back of a motor bike
With your arms outstretched trying to take flight
Leaving everything behind
But even at our swiftest speed
We couldn’t break from the concrete
In the city where we still reside
And I have learned
That even landlocked lovers yearn
For the sea like navy men
‘Cause now we say goodnight
From our own separate sides
Like brothers on a hotel bed

You may tire of me as our december sun is setting
‘Cause I’m not who I used to be”

this is a deathcab for cutie song that’s definitely worth checking out. people spend so much of their lives looking for the person who matches them – who they can feel so comfortable around that they feel no pressure to be someone else. when they find that person, maybe they get so used to being with them, that it’s just about like being alone. maybe we all need to find the person who makes us feel alive, instead of the person who makes us feel the most comfortable.

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chairs in the arno

now featuring: chairs in the arno

this is a band that got it’s name from the arno river, here in florence. they are pretty much what it’s all about. you thought it was the hokey-pokey, didn’t you? well let me tell you. they wrote the hokey-pokey. i know that guy in the bottom left, ryan. he’s the one here at our school who probably best understands how americans relate to italian culture, as he was a student here himself a few years back. he’s also in a music video by the band air. sometimes one must break the social norms, and realize that “indy” isn’t just a title for whatever sounds like complete cocophany but ended up somehow receiving a record label. listen to chairs in the arno, and be amazed at your sensibility.

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testing, testing, 1, 2, 3. looks like the blog works.

“You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn’t really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone. … You’ll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day one day and it’s just gone. And you can never get it back. It’s like you get homesick for a place that doesn’t exist. I mean it’s like this rite of passage, you know. You won’t have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for you kids, for the family you start, it’s like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that’s all family really is – A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.”
-Zach Braff, Garden State

this hits home, pardon the expression. my family’s beginning to reach the point where we all have to go our separate ways. it’s not at all that we don’t feel home when we’re together, but pretty soon that place where my brother and i grew up will be gone as we know it forever. there’s still a house, but it’ll never again be what we will always want it to be. when someone asks me about some memory from my past, whatever variation of nostalgia it brings, i’ll probably bring up the images in my mind starting with standing in the very life of our house.
i never used to understand what was so cool about driving past the house my dad grew up in, but now i know. and someday my kids will wonder what the big deal is when i point at a house as we drive by that place i’ll still call home.

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