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yamamanama ([personal profile] yamamanama) wrote2003-05-28 08:13 pm

13

a landscape once uniformly white - in which i post a mix CD and the wildlife center gets a new bearded dragon and we all eat fla vor ice.
antifeminism considered as a eugenicist conspiracy - in which Christina wonders why we don't have hoverboards or a cure for cancer and I blame antifeminism, a novel is deferred to third party sellers by Amazon less than 365 days after publication and I blame self-publishing, the Soviet Union makes their own version of the Hobbit and I blame communism.
frost at midnight - in which I find every national anthem played at the same time and the results of a NES attempting to read part of the game's code as music, tell a tale of glo-stiks, and learn how to say "turkey" in ASL, which I forget afterwards, and that iguanas can sense menstruation, while Nina attempts to domesticate rabbit sperm.

love and sex among the chordates - in which Nina makes terrible coffee and wants a tree tattooed on her urinary bladder, Christina marches around the corridors eating dots and almost faints, I find a halloween mask and we discuss love and sex amongst various chordates
blackout - in which I lose power and make a handwritten livejournal entry about Talking Time, mergansers, loons, how Super Mario Bros on the game boy has too many blind jumps, and how time moves at different speeds for Christina and myself.
love bombing in which I post pictures of the grumpy swan, a loon, a merganser, and a bearded dragon.
Dish Nation isn't dead, alas. - in which I promise to paint something, didn't bring a camera even though we had an owl, a chinchilla gets neutered, and I didn't give a shit about the oscars.
the artistic touch - in which I find a drawing of a guy injecting sperm into his arm.

funeral march for a marionette, pavane for a dead cardinal - in which a hawk is released and I don't get any decent pictures, a cardinal dies, a screech owl is blind in one eye, a swan has lead poisoning, and I paint something because I promised Christina I would.
the tourist - in which I return home from New York City and talk about how much they love Subway there and how I'd rather eat Ethiopian food because I can eat Subway anywhere else in the human-inhabited world and about the prices of cans of coke at hotels and local quik-e-marts.
good news from the Vatican - in which the Vatican blows their chance to have a black Pope Lando II, I post a picture of a porcupine with me in the background, Nina makes up words, and Christina paints a lovely owl of paradise.
proclaimers - in which I post miscellaneous pictures from New York City and environs, mostly rock doves and menus and graffiti and subway station architecture, but the occasional lamp.
yama, half-devoured - in which nina teaches us about hypospadias and tells people not to touch her testicles.
poet and passions - in which I post pictures of New York City's architecture.
rumors of spring - in which I post Christina's artwork and a few photos of animals and learn that 'it's not you' means 'it's not you' and 'what the fuck do you want?' means 'hello'
palace - in which I spend time at the Met and take pictures of modern art and can't find Christina's World because that's not where Christina's World is.
the armory art convention of 2013 - in which easter is too early and outline the future of the New York entries.

the presence of your grace - in which I poke Christina in her nose, the porcupine comes back and his wound is sutured up, the squirrels have goop on their genitals to keep them from sucking them and Ian tests it out for himself, Salvador tries to climb out of his box, and I forget a burning question.
matings and majesty - in which I start with pictures from the second gallery at the Armory Show and explain my awesome plan.
a storm of wings - in which I celebrate Margaret Thatcher's death, rock dove formula smells appetizing because I had dental surgery and couldn't eat afterwards, Falco shits on the floor and Nina explains the components, and then tries to fly off and Christina catches a feather.
manoeuvres and massacre - in which I post a poem and the second batch of photos from the Armory Show.
moonrise - in which I post the last batch of Armory Show pictures.
tithes of mint and rue - in which I post osprey pictures, terry gets his grinding plates worn down, some volunteers get lost with Gallop, and Christina spills water trying to make cheese-flavored coffee.
not a rescue - in which the bomber looks like my uncle, we reach squirrel critical mass, Christina discusses social networking, and I try to find an obscure band and want to punch Wally Was His Name in the face.
spring tide - in which I get revenge on Wally Was His Name, print the Fast Supper for Nina, Nina calls things by the sound they make, and Christina talks about smurf dicks.

in the sway of desire - in which I hate on climate change but am otherwise giddy and smitten with someone, learn that Carmina Burana is actually a collection of drinking songs and love poetry, the wildlife center gets a treasure trove of crapola, a cormorant dies, Nina eats pasta and takes Mr. Light Bulb and a CD of sci-fi fantasy adventures in musical form, Christina gives Yolanda a new bath toy, a cat is sprayed with disinfectant, Nina, Christina, Sarah, and Ian prove that not everyone is a waste of adenine and guanine and cytosine and thymine, and we look at the inside of a hawk's bad eye, but seriously, fuck climate change
in another part of the forest - in which an osprey is released, mixing rust and watercolors doesn't work as well as I thought it would, Deviantart makes it harder to get views, and I fail in my mission.
thirteen facts about samurai - in which I see the Samurai exhibit at the MFA, somebody's dance attempts to ward off climate change, and I see a pirate.
the king of birds - in which I photograph a great horned owl, Leopold bites air, Devin wants a guard duck, and I wear a long-sleeved shirt even though it was 82 degrees out,
Nature Abhors a Vacuum and All Other Housework - in which I post bad art.
behold: ELECTRICITY! - in which I go to the MFA and describe artwork, promise to paint somebody, bond with a woman over J.M Coetzee, Bradley Denton, and Paul Park, an anonymous graffitist quotes Rumi, and realize I can't stand to look at Xenoblade for more than thirty seconds.
of ground, and ocean, and sky - in which I remember Troy McClure and nothing else happens.

The Wild Hunt - in which Christina tried to catch ducklings when she was ten, I catch a glimpse of a baby coyote, Priya brings the rain, and Hezbollah occupies Syria but can not control it.
convergences - in which I can find only a few songs by Curious Ritual, but nowhere to obtain it legally or otherwise, post a video of Skinky eating cockroaches, and suggest that China build a kilometer high tower.
integrations - promise to explain the context of titles, post descriptions of bad art by the MoBA and a few things I forgot about.
the Bloomsday Revolution - in which I post prematurely because the afternoon skies are as dark as twilight, watch Blade Runner after contemplating Voight-Kampff Empathy Tests for people who smile at me, learn that there are people in Asia who use a fork and knife to eat pizza, learn about sea turtles who swim around with their lungs exposed, and have a reptile party.
Celebration of the Summer Solstice - in which I get a twitter and wonder if I should accumulate followers before tweeting or accumulate followers by tweeting, realize I have no presence on DeviantArt but post a link there anyway because of Mandy and Melissa, and someone tells you not to read something.
the future is hope - in which I see Hamlet and someone wonders whether to beard or not to beard, Ophelia sings, the Cape is monotonous and dominated by gymnosperms and ferns, and Carolyn recommends movies.
Moonlit Madness - in which I write the descriptions of the paintings down but leave it in a secret place at the NEWC and try in vain to use the Facebook page, Christina holds her own reptile party with blackjack and hookers.

flowerchant and candlefire - in which I find a poem from a book I couldn't find, find out that the description I pieced together from google searches is the whole thing, spray the goats with a hose, Spyro attacks Ranger Smith during a repitle box social and I call him Ranger Rick instead, a fox is injured in a territorial dispute, a night heron has a spinal injury, and Christina calls a painting my best work to date.
Zombie Jamboree - in which I go to the Peabody-Essex museum and see Faberge eggs and pug statues.
A dog day - in which I turn 29, Jess eats a dog treat, and raccoons eat eggs.
a wet gala - in which an owl gets his eye removed, the Wildlife Center acquires an 85+ year old turtle, Christina takes Skinky outside, and I am filled with the desire to launch a hornets' nest at a Hezbollah rally.
the abyss stares back - in which I am summoned for jury duty, explain the process, and have nothing else to talk about and post a picture of Mr. Potato Head on the Moon.
all on a summer's night - in which I arrive at the MFA one day before a Koran exhibit opens, search flickr, have a conversation about ivory and mammoths and climate change and modified plants that produce ivory
old legends, decaying bonds - in which coyotes are transferred, a hawk is flight tested indoors, and China has weird ice cream.
Fire Zone Emerald - in which I recommend Light and lament the short lifespan of a book, meet a Greek woman with a cool t-shirt and pendant, a Polish woman who likes hedgehogs, hear music, and sweat like Roger Ebert
Sector Jade - in which I see a coconut used as a paperweight, and talk about Laos and South America and how Castro might be dead.
A change of climate - in which I see a Rat Pack influenced Two Gentlemen of Verona, talk about bad movies and beet salad and low-flying skittles, and meet the inventor of Thai basil ice cream.
crossing the wild - in which Skinky is taken outside, time moves slower in various situations, and Jessica thinks thai basil ice cream sounds good.
People's Artist - in which Emma and I discuss art, get a cool pin, learn a Malagasy phrase, lament Assad and praise Pakistan's music scene.
A Happy Day In 2013 - in which I see Jake Shimabukuro, Emperor Norton's Stationary Marching Band, Carlos Nuñez, Noe Socha, Red Baraat, Session Americana, and Angelique Kidjo in concert and think it didn't matter that Shannon couldn't come because I'd never find her in that crowd, dance for hours, and a nameless henna artist blows a cloud of bubbles
an orchestra of ghosts - in which I see a Jewish ensemble, Carlos Nuñez, the Boston Conservatory Broadway Revue, Alison Kraus, Luminarium Dance, and Professor Paddy-Whack's One Man Junk Band in concert, meet a woman with a So It Goes tattoo and have an unsettling dream.
Love Sickness - in which a goose is hand-raised, I recognize a woman from her tattoo, wonder how many people there are named Jess ____, Christina becomes the new Ian somewhere else and I get despondent even though she's happy because it means I might never see her again but bory bory ny tany, right?
tango interrupted - in which I see a concert by an orchestra and a Latin music ensemble and meet a woman who did a convincing raccoon noise.

faded glory - in which I go to Brockton and see mosaics, glass sculptures, wood carvings, Icarus reintegrating himself after flying too close to the sun, and a mechanical duck.
Christina Lost - in which Christina may or may not turn up wandering the woods of Maine in a few weeks a day older than she was the last time I saw her, somebody brings puppies, and I remember a conversation but not its context.
days of wonder - in which I see opera and DeviantArt does not make me a premium member for their anniversary and I can't confirm that all my viewers don't actually use deviantart.
paradise risen - in which I see mechanical sculptures that don't exist in gif form and holograms and a mechanical mouse built by Claude Shannon and want to build an orchestra of machines.
Heartbells - in which Salvador flips himself over twice, Dino eats like a real goose, and interns chase ducks.
the dead spaces - in which it is cold and a squirrel crosses a bridge.
our ecstatic days - in which I post art I see at the ICA and the announcer on the T is really excited to be there.
have not have - in which I post scans of my artwork, Rose does the ferret dance, and some ducks escape and the interns play a rousing game of Hide and Go Duck.
moonlight sonata - in which I dream about Christina, meet a woman with a halfmoon fleck in her sclera, and see Kiss Me, Kate, and the Prince of Birds struts past a security barrier and doesn't give a shit.
conditions of weightlessness - in which I go to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum and educate a woman about the heist, hear rumors of a movie, see a tapestry of Cyrus the Great dressed in contemporary clothing, and see a woman with a pink-fro.
an ultimately fatal condition - in which we see a spider near the duck enclosure, ducks harass a goose, raccoons toss grapes, and Ian talks about rabies and the international museum of toilets.
Air - in which mist creeps over boston, and the Landmarks Orchestra plays a tribute to Martin Luther King's speech.
Lisa Frank stole my unicorn - in which someone plays the moon by wielding a cane.
heirs to all eternity - in which I see As You Like It and discuss the profanity of the ancients.

A New Moon in Virgo - in which Elysian summer turns to unseasonable winter and I crave a sandwich
my education - in which I dream and meet someone from Malaysia and talk about lizards and happiness and 1984.
a walk in summer - in which I take multiple photographs on multiple walks
goodbye bright summer - in which Shannon says something that gives me hope and I feel like all the warmth is long gone and dump rotten fruit in a crevasse.
a lingering scent of jasmine - in which it is warm again and I go to the MFA and see flutes and muslamic rayguns and 60s clothes and photographs from the Arab World.
bid time return - in which Zack invites me to his time travelers convention and Drow accuses me of stalking her by linking to someone who made an account on some website in 2004, also Itsy Bitsy sheds her skin.
primeval light - in which I see Gustav Mahler's 2nd symphony and a woman singing to herself outside of Braintree Station and take a trip on a lightless train car.
the worm shall feed sweetly - in which new interns arrive and Nina brings a chicken.

we are well organized - in which things that were meant for April happen in October but it's fine because it's actually warmer and dryer, and regret not seeing some musicians play.
autumn afternoon - in which I meet a Julianne who is not the Julianne I neglected to mention, assist in putting a splint on a canada goose, meet a cat who is not happy, an intern is bitch-slapped by waterfowl, and the weather machines are run by a mad artificial intelligence
youthful folly - in which I see The Magic Flute and some CoolGlobes and Confluence Mirrored.
making salt with sunshine - in which I meet the girls in Shel, three guys make Optimus Prime, a woman makes an observation about camel horses, and I bond with a woman over Joseph Heller and Kurt Vonnegut.
a song to keep us warm - in which I see Romeo and Juliet in Dorchester
faltering faith - in which I wonder about Xpander and Miyomi privately and the reptile room smells of vinegar acids
Bradbury Weather - in which I read Something Wicked This Way Comes, meet Miranda and Désireé, and we all carve pumpkins.
Arrivals - in which I expect to be barely on time but arrive late, Désireé shows me the tribal fish pumpkin she made, Jean performs unnecessary surgery, and I light pumpkins.
Pursuits - in which I mistake Désireé for Miranda, Julianne is dressed as a zombie raccoon, Désireé uses peanut butter as a code word for fire to keep people from panicking, Christina quotes Pinky and the Brain, Arianna is covered in spaghetti, and Lauren wears a raccoon tail.
Departures - in which I hear Russian music live and wonder why the Russian Empire and USSR have greater cultural outputs than the Russian Federation.
on whom the three fates smile - in which an intern shows me a photo of a lynx, the wildlife center does surgery on a hedgehog, and Stephanie declares war on a housefly.
you have burned bright - in which I link to photos.

three types of solitude - in which some school groups come to the wildlife center and learn about testudines, I paint a picture of Christina and Brody compares it to Clive Barker, and FOX fails to play Bart the Lover.
the dead ought sleep forever - in which I see the War Requiem and Sara/Sarah officially replaces Emily as a recurring name.
art in the war zone - in which I make more statements about She Who Tells A Story and bond with a hoopy frood and a kid who thinks that trains should be made of chocolate.
lo rez moon lit - in which it is warm and I can't help but be disappointed, a loon crash lands, box turtles have sex, and I find out someone I had a crush on is fanatically conservative and I can do a lot worse with my life.
phosphene violet - in which dentistry is performed, I lament winter, and post an awesome drawing, a photography cheat sheet I ganked from Christina, and several facts about reptiles.
a feast unearned - in which the ninja turtles dance to some goober, Rachel tells a story about Lauren eating nachos, and I reminisce about a book I never read and school days I scarcely remember.

silvery and starless - in which I see Sargent paintings and meet a painter and a multi-instrumentalist with one leg, wake up at four in the morning not lovesick about Sara, I swear.
fog and mist - in which a neutering is performed and I write about testicles
trespassing in love's furrows - in which a guinea pig has his feet soaking in epsom salts, I learn about birds and blood glucose levels, a goose attacks his reflection, and donuts attack smaller donuts.
Landing on the Moon - in which the moon is landed on, I regret title use, fall on my duff, examine geckos and pythons, learn about snake anatomy, and am witness to Waffle's theft of a toy and Brody's imitation of Jean.
winter war - in which South Sudan collapses on itself while I fall ill and Snap-Snap has scute surgery.
come to me not in winter's white - in which apples to apples is played
one lump or two - in which shame spirals cause isolation
requiem for devotion - in which I lose sleep due to lovesickness, spill hot chocolate, and resolve never to visit a place I can't get to with public transportation again.
all the tapestries of time - in which I look at a muscovy duck and his wounds and Colin Flaherty whips up a frenzy in the blogosphere.

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