Polaroids

Memories and feelings are Polaroids tacked on the cork board of my mind. Candid shots of days gone by and strange reminders of what once was.

Little moments in white boxes frozen in time. Never leaving.

No matter how many holes stabbed through it by tiny little hourglass plastics or how much I try desperately to shake the pictures out of existence, they comes back clearer than before. Every intricate detail, every minute piece of information, every crystal color and silk twirls, all there.

Never leaving, but she already did.

Regarding the Extraordinary.

Sitting in the quiet room that I was blessed with to conduct my work and contemplate the multitude of things presented to my consciousness, I found myself in awe. Outside of this room are trillions of living breathing creatures out there (not including the microorganisms in my room). Of which I am only at least acquainted with 7 dogs, 3 cats, 2 turtles, a rabbit, an exotic bird, a young African goat that chatted with me yesterday morning and 442 people (according to facebook). I was curious about the percentage of people I know in the world, so I did the math. Aside from Facebook I can guesstimate that I know about 550 people give or take a few, meanwhile the world census bureau estimates that there are 6,863,172,482 people in the world, with the number ever growing by the second. With those exact numbers, I calculated that I know 8.01x10 to the negative 08 power percent of people in the world. In other words, I know 0.0000000801 percent of everyone in the world.

Yet it’s not the number of people alone that stops me to reflect on this. It’s not even the number of living, breathing organisms that I know in comparison to the whole that stops my usual life in its tracks. It’s thought of an ever moving world that changes constantly within a second. Right now there a billions of actions taken, billions of thoughts being formed, billions of emotions being felt and billions of breaths breathing life into the great innumerable crowd of living things in our world. Of which we only know a grain of sand of the vast number. To put yourself outside of your own world and comprehend the grand scale of things is incapable of being given a name or emotion. To realize that the world would continue to turn without you is a scary thought, yet it shouldn’t be. Even though the world has moved and changed, the way it changes is affected solely by the organisms that inhabit it, beit human, animal, plant or insect. The clock does not turn automatically as the moments change, the clock turns as every tiny little cog changes it movements. Therefore, our actions change the world constantly. We’re not insignificant. Even though there are many things beyond our power there are many things that are. History books alone have demonstrated the power of one man or woman against great opposition, and it has never been a isolated one time event. More than one human being has created peace amongst the people. More than one has saved the lives of thousands. More than one pushed our understanding of the world to new heights. More than one has allowed us to transcend into realms unknown. More than one has saved a species from extinction. We thrive on even in the face of death. We do not give up, we’re here today because on ancestors never gave up.

Yet it is not just us who never give up, the world never gives up and pushes forth to awe-inspiring heights. I think if we step out of our own worlds we all would find out how amazing the world is. It’s almost impossible for me to describe. I want to tell you about all the wonders that occur ever day, every miracle that happens every second, every trial and tribulation that life perseveres through. Every moment a new life is being born. Deep inside the Earth new wondrous things are waiting to be discovered. The sky shines with a bounty of color, the world ocean brims full of life and never rests, twenty foot crystal pillars glimmer quietly in their caves, mountains grow and listen to the soft whispers of the wind, the ground below our feet constantly moves as power beyond our normal comprehension churns slowly in the center of our Earth, yet packed within a square cube of space in our heads in untapped unlimited potential that our best minds wrap their thoughts over. These are only a few things that I can tell you that are amazing to me. It could take a lifetime to tell you everything about our pale blue dot, and even longer for the universe. It is simply that extraordinary.

A small question to you, my reader, would you cry if you saw an armless boy surpass his handicap and play Richard Clayderman’s Mariage D’amour on piano flawlessly? What if you saw the Northern White Rhino, now extinct in the wild, affectionately play with its newborn calf? Would it make you cry to realize that the one random person you exchanged sincere smiles with just the other day may never appear in your life again?

The Refusal of a Second Play

I quite often find myself in dreams that make me feel uncomfortable, creeped out, our generally nauseated, but never up until now have been in a dream that has included all three stomach churning feelings topped with a necessary need for reflection.

As I sunk deeper into my dream state and psyche, I found this scene at the end of my journey, a frigid reality hidden under the inescapably surreal world. After experiencing a scene unfamiliar to my own life with people unknown to me and that promptly turned into a psychological horror film complete with changes in perception, screaming and biting doorknobs, a question of one's own sanity, and stars Bruce Cambell (my persona at the time resembled him quite alot).

But before I could finish watching this lovely film I was transported to another world that framed the meat of my story. I was running from a crazy rich lady and her goons at night, I hid behind cars and other objects until I was able to hide long enough to lose them. I found a house that took me in, the only reason I knew I was supposed to go to there was because it was the same house that was in the previous scene, only less creepy. A man and his very bodacious servants took me in. Although it was still an unfamiliar world, my mind synced this event to the experiences at CSSSA. Despite this place being a house and my stay for CSSSA was at CalArts, the two synced together as one and I soon realized that my life reversed two years.

I could officially say that I was freaked out. "Holy shit. How did this happen? Oh God, what am I supposed to do?"

At first I was scared, but soon realized the benefit to this. I could have a second chance at my actions. I could meet more people, reverse events that I didn't want to happen. I could save myself from the idiotic mistakes that I made before. I was soon able to spot people I met later in life within that day. I talked to them, making my association with them sooner so I could receive the benefits of knowing them. For example, multiple people I work with now were in my dream, I felt it necessary to talk to them so I could secure a job at the Wild Animal Park a couple years sooner.

Honestly, if your life reversed with your knowledge of the future still intact, the limits of what you can do are half way to the Sun. "Wise investments," winning loto numbers, greater forsight and knowledge. Two years isn't that long, but its long enough to result into some major changes in one's life. One prospect for me was that I was single again, relatively (My sub-concious deemed that the relationship issues I had then were much to complicated to project so he just fed my conscious that I was single).

However, my actions in this new life were halted instantly by one emotion, happiness. I remembered how happy I am with my life "in the future." Aside from the realization the I shouldn't mess with proper flow of time, I realized I didn't want to change anything in my life, especially if it may have result in me losing Kayla in this new life. I would lose my spirit and joy in the world, if I never experienced the things I have now. Instead of regretting the could haves, the would haves and the should haves that we so dwell on in our lives, I would have regretted what was supposed to have been. After my realization, the world became quite, everything in it ran without me, I asked my kind host if I could find some private quarters to rest for the evening for I didn't feel good and desired to rest. After much kind objections to this for he made a delicious meal that he wished me to eat, he pointed me to the sleeping quarters. I had resolved to call Kayla.

I soon woke up. I looked around and examined my surrounding. I found myself in my bedroom. A quiet, but nonetheless great joy came over me. I was so happy that it wasn't real. However, my stomach still felt churned from the realization of my fate in that dream, my heart ached, and I felt mentally and emotionally drained. However, I can't explain how happy I am to still be in the present. The dream made me realize that I can't regret what I have done or wished I could have done in the past, I can only live on and be happy with what happens in the present and what will unfold in the future.

No more regrets, no more frustration, I just have to live.

Eccentrically yours,
Damien

An Interview of No Merit Whatsoever

"Hmm, so Damien is it? I see you're going to an art school."

The interviewer flicked open his Zippo lighter in the dank, cluttered studio of one particular artist named Damien "puts the pro in procrastinator" Enriquez. It was a Tuesday evening when the So Cal weather wasn't too particularly kind towards her residence. If you were lucky enough to dress in a few simple but cozy layers in the cold morning it increased your chances of surviving the blistering afternoon and bone-chilling night.
The one conducting the interview was smart enough to wear a pair of snug black jeans and an ebony coat that clung to his sleek figure much like how his hair kept to his scalp.

Damien on the other hand, hazed and wizened by his particularly busy life, wore jeans matted with clay, a continuously overworn high school Romeo and Juliet shirt, an old track jacket that was at least 20 years older than himself, and his girlfriend's socks that he borrowed the night before.
Furthermore, he didn't snag the time to shower that day so he was quite self-conscious of his appearance and he had forgotten to brush his teeth before leaving the house, thus whenever he spoke to the interviewer, he did his best to talk away from the the slender man sitting on his spare chair while still maintaining eye contact with him.
The result looked as though Damien was, once again, a strange and queer sort of character that didn't make any sense at all.

"Yes I am," Damien shifted his head to the right pointing his mouth outside of the other man's line of smell "Laguna College of Art and Design."

The Slender Man lit his cigarette while perusing his notes. "Hm, interesting," He seemed to notice the strange gesture of young adult sitting before him. "Would you say you completed several pieces of work since your enrollment to Laguna?"

"Oh yes," Nodding your head while maintaining your mouth pointed down is no easy task, however, Damien succeeded in such a feet, "I've completed so many different assignments since I started my education at LCAD."

"I see, why haven't you posted any of your pieces online since last fall?" An inquisitive expression arose from shallow depths of the slender man's mind.

"About that. There are several reasons why." Damien soon realized that he will have to explain his situation entirely while keeping his guest from discovering his lack of dental hygiene. "The first is that I haven't really found a particular project I'm happy enough to post online. I would rather people see a few good pieces than see all my horrible failures. The majority of my work could be titled 'It was a great idea, but you just didn't do it right.'I'm pretty lucky if one is successful though and I love posting those works."

"Does that mean you haven't created anything good for almost a whole year now?" The slender man interrupted.

"Let's just say I've been slowly fleshing out the last details of my better projects for public viewing." Damien recalled the several projects racking his mind that could be wonderful he knew what he was doing. "Another problem is that I just don't have the time to post anything online. I'm a full-time student with eighteen units. It's practically suicide, I'm surprised I've survived this long through the semester."

"I've heard of students who are pushing twenty three units and a job or two as well, your response?"

"Well... Everyone has their limits and some can push their limits farther than others, unfortunately I can't push my limits that far without having enough emotional breakdowns to lose my mind..."

"That is true and everyone is at a different level in terms of abilities and skills, so everyone IS different." The slender man sat for a moment looking for another question and then asked it without further hesitation. "Okay, so you're busy and you don't want to post every single piece of your work, but stops you from posting just one piece that you like, I've heard about a painting you created last Summer that quite a number of people enjoyed and suggested you sell. Why haven't you posted that piece, even though it's going to be close a year now since you created it?"

"I'll put it to you simply, I'm just lazy. I get distracted easily, other times I'll sort of my work and find the ones I want post online but I never get around to posting. Most recently I haven't been able to find my camera to take photos and it wouldn't matter if I did find my camera because the photos are always horribly grainy and it changes the color of my work. I'm lazy, I don't have time and I can't find my camera. That's why I haven't posted anything online."

"That about wraps up our interview," The slender man jotted down his last few notes of the interview - Damien was utterly perplexed "thank you for your time."

"Wait... that's it? That's the interview?"

"Yes."

"You're not going to ask my life or the work I create, my experiences at art school or anything of that sort? Not even my major?" Damien went from utterly perplexed to just damn confused.

"The magazine I work for is interested in an article on why artists don't do certain things in regards to their profession so that's I really needed to know" The notepad slipped into the slender man's handbag as he walked to the door of the studio "besides who would want an interview of a college student who hasn't posted any portfolio worthy pieces for an entire year?" The door knob turned and the wooden door clicked open.

"But-"

"Good luck Damien, on what ever it is you're doing."
The door closed.
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After having this account ready at my disposal for about a year or so, I thought a piece regarding my idiosyncrasies and me being a giant turkey would be an appropriate first blog.


Eccentrically yours,

Damien