I have spent a [relatively] obscene amount of money renting DVDs lately. But the result is that now i have a distinct and insatiable appetite for film. a list of recent rentals:
The seventh seal, winter light, cries and whispers (why, god?), the virgin spring, wild strawberries, 8 1/2, that obscure object of desire, solaris (the original 1972 Russian version), kill!, survive style 5+, le corbeau, and perhaps some others i can't think of right now.
8 1/2, the seventh seal, solaris, and survive style 5+ were all fantastic.
I got up on time this morning to go to studio only to realize when i arrived that my prof. would be tied up in a review all morning and that i really didn't have to be there. I haven't gone back to sleep yet because of the requisite cup of coffee i had, and because it sounds like someone is trying to get through the wall with a combination of hammer and drill.
I read yesterday that Santiago Calatrava is doing three Bridges over the trinity river near downtown Dallas.
I went to an immigration rally on monday and as usual when i find myself faced with a large crowd of singular ethnicity, i could only think of bad stereotypical jokes, which i kept to myself whilst lusting for a burrito.
I had a mid-project review on monday, and it went well; the only evidence i had to show for my design was a set of sketches. But thats okay.
On friday night, after in interesting dinner at Kenichi with my parents, i went to this totally radical party at this gorgeous old house on Travis Heights. it was an 80s party but i say to hell with all that shit.
the next day I got to be uncle Brennan for a few hours at my niece's birthday party. She's nine.








You get a shiver in the dark
It's raining in the park but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing Dixie double four time
You feel alright when you hear that music ring

You step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Too much competition too many other places
But not too many horns can make that sound
Way on downsouth way on downsouth London town

You check out Guitar George he knows all the chords
Mind he's strictly rhythm he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
And an old guitar is all he can afford
When he gets up under the lights to play his thing

And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job he's doing alright
He can play honky tonk just like anything
Saving it up for Friday night
With the Sultans with the Sultans of Swing

And a crowd of young boys they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
The don't give a damn about any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
And the Sultans played Creole


And then the man he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time bell rings
'Thank you goodnight now it's time to go home'
and he makes it fast whith one more thing
'We are the Sultans of Swing'