July 2007 Archives

In preparation for my drawing course during the fall, I have begun looking at information for the course. I have looked at information in the North Carolina Community College System Common Course Library, as well a previous semester syllibi from CPCC. I will be taking the course at Gaston, but I assume the courses will be taught similarly, and Gaston doesn't provide online syllabi. I was going to email my instructor to request a previous semester syllabus, but it would appear that he doesn't have an email address. Anyway, here is the information I found that gives me hints as to what I may be up against this semester (Fall 2007).

Course Description, NCCCS CCL
This course introduces the language of drawing and the use of various drawing materials. Emphasis is placed on drawing techniques, media, and graphic principles. Upon completion, students should be able to demonstrate competence in the use of graphic form and various drawing processes.This course has been approved to satisfy the Comprehensive Articulation Agreement for transferability as a premajor and/or elective course requirement.

Course Description, CPCC
This course introduces the language of drawing and the use of various drawing materials. Emphasis is placed on drawing techniques, media, and graphic principles. Upon completion,students should be able to demonstrate competence in the use of graphic form and various drawing processes. Students will apply theories of perspective and composition using media that includes graphite, ink, charcoal and conte crayon

Objectives

1. Objectives: Have completed assigned problems providing experience in the use of: pencils, ink & pen, charcoal, felt-tip pen, ink & brush and conte crayon.
   
2. Be able to demonstrate an understanding of the nature of these materials and their use by the appropriate choice and use of materials for specific drawing tasks.
   
3. Have completed assigned problems, which demonstrate a satisfactory use and understanding of drawing techniques and terms including: contour line, hatching, cross-hatching, line gesture, mass gesture and scribbled line gesture.
   
4. Have completed assignments which demonstrate the ability to use a range values to create the illusion of three dimensional space through the use of dry media such as: charcoal, conte crayon, pencils, chalk and graphite.
   
5. Have completed assignments that provide experience in the use of wet media such as: ink: pen & ink, pen & wash, brush & ink and mixed media.
   
6. Have completed assignments that demonstrate the ability to create the illusion of a variety of textures that occur in nature.
   
7. Have completed assignments that demonstrate an understanding of composition, and an awareness of selecting formats, open or closed composition, balance, and repetition of shapes and lines.
   
8. Have maintained a daily sketchbook with daily entries that reflect growth in content and drawing ability.
   
9. Be proficient in basic drawing vocabulary, and methods of verbal discussion pertaining to their own work as well as drawings in general.
   
10. Have completed assignments that demonstrate a basic knowledge of linear perspective techniques, and how these techniques can create the illusion of depth in both architectural and natural forms.
    
11. Have completed assignments that demonstrate a use of one-point, two-point, and multiple vanishing points as they relate to objects drawn in linear perspective.
    
12. Have completed assignments that demonstrate knowledge of circular forms drawn in linear perspective.
    
13. Will demonstrate an understanding of space relationships in landscape drawing.
    
14. Will be introduced to the potential expansion of subject matter and modern trends as related to assigned drawings.
    
15. Have shown growth in the development of a personal style
    
16. Have organized a portfollio of works that demonstrate an ability to select the best works for presentation, and to have those works correctly matted or glazed for presentation

What is it that attracts me to drawing? It is a simple art form. Lines and textures create the image. Nothing excessive, color isn't even a consideration on most. I have sought to understand my interest in a book I have on the topic of drawing. I have seen many drawings that do not interest me in the least, they are harsh and abstract. I like drawings that are sensual and simple. My obsession began with admiring drawings of the naked male form, especially ones that involve a focus on the muscles. A more detailed admiration involves simplistic images of muscles resisting bindings of rope or chain.

Aside from the obsession with certain drawn images, and the ability for simple images, I also have a deep appreciation for the mediums involved. I have always had a paper fetish, so something like drawing which lends itself naturally to using thick, crisp, sensual sheets of paper can make me tingle. I like the feeling of holding a pencil as it drags across paper, and with oil crayons I love the appearance and sensuality as the instrument rubs across the gorgeous fibers of the paper.

As far as why I am taking the drawing course, as much as I admire drawings, when it comes to actually doing the act, I suck.

The summer grades have been released:

I received my latest Galls catalog today in the mail inside of a clear USPS bag. Here is the label from the bag. I was already pissed at USPS this week because they managed to not follow simple instructions (scan a SCAN form to expedite tracking), and in the past few months, general mail delivery has been very slow. Just another reason we should kill off USPS and let a real private corporation that can be held accountable take over.

Assignment:
Describe the smells in one of these places: a church, a hospital waiting room, a public bathroom, a library. (In 3-4 paragraphs or 1 poem.)

Response:
Early in the morning
Enter the old building
Walls of stone and mortar

The lobby smells like a damp cave
Moving into the library itself
The odors of dust and paper waft through the air

The smells are mostly clean
A fragrance of a strong wood oil
On the freshly cleaned shelves

A familiar scent of old paper hits
Scents that only a library can produce

The building smells of knowledge and academia
The building smells black and white

I have decided to take Drawing 1 during the fall semester for my pleasure. Drawing is something I have always had problems with, even something as simple as a sketch of a ceramic piece. I hope to be able to potentially take figure drawing in the spring. The human body has always been something that has fascinated me in the interpreted mediums (drawing, painting) and I would like to be able to attempt to capture the human body that way with at least a little bit of competence.

Because of this course decision, I will be enrolled in two studio courses for the fall semester. I know I can handle them without a problem, I just am starting to wonder about the sanity of some of my academic decisions (some UNCC Art students believe it is an evil thing to take more than one studio at a time).

To make things a little more fun for everyone to keep track of, I have courses at 3 schools during the fall. I will have an advanced programming course at CPCC, Drawing will be at Gaston, and something related to my degree will be at UNCC. I suspect it will be a fun and productive semester.

I have finished my final assignments and the Summer 2007 semester is now finished for me. I now find myself trying to figure out what I will do with my time now that I am not constantly thinking of the next assignment due.

I think my plans for the remainder of the summer include teaching myself to draw (at least partially), doing more ceramic work, and also attempting some creative writing exercises for personal pleasure, as well as the pleasure of others.

Maybe I will just take some time to workout and also get some sun, enjoy some swimming and perhaps do something to burn off all of the sexual energy I have built up over the past few weeks.

Assignment:
Write a poem using one of the following quotes as an epigraph at the start of the poem:
“The World is Change; life is opinion” – Democritus
“Worlds are altered rather than destroyed”- Democritus
“What we call the beginning is often the end”-T. S. Eliot
“Love takes up where knowledge leaves off”-St. Thomas Aquinas
“Dreams pass into the reality of fiction“-Anais Nin
“Hope is a waking dream”-Aristotle
“It’s better to burn out than to fade away”-Kurt Cobain

Response:
[June 24, 2007]
The World is Change; life is opinion
Each life brought into the world anew
Sees the world with a different view
Every tyrant and evangelist has his minion

Nothing is ever the same
With technical enhancement
Or enemy army's advancement
This world is never the same ole game

Something as constant as the moon and stars
Not as fixed as we may think
Every object in the universe has a link
Even the missing water on Mars

Every life observes this change
Being humans as we are
We never find this method completely bizarre
The impact of each life has a variable range

Once there was fire
And then there was the electric oven
People of Salem feared the wrath of the coven
They felt no impact of the fall of the British empire

Modern children seem to stray from the tutor
Business people have no longer a need for books
There are new inventions that impact even the cooks
The most shocking invention of them all, the computer

Change happens all around
Life happens in a blink
Often recorded with ink
There have been attempts made with sound

Written word is by far our friend
In our archaeological findings
Ancient languages we have been unwinding
Without the linguists, there would be nothing of the past to mend

As things come together
The world has great movement
Sometimes with, sometimes without, improvement
The common link of opinion and change, is the weather

Assignment:
Write a conversation between two people who know each other very well. Have them involved in a complex activity, but they should not talk about the activity. Show how two people might think they know each other but really don't and at times don't listen to one another.

Response:
Before reading this piece:
[Please see DT post "Relationship via the Kitchen"] OR
[Please see GITI Education Item # 0922 and its associated Doc item] OR
[Please see Moodle Post: Story Exercise (due by July 10) » Story Exercise by me]

     "No Eric, I've never considered adding meatballs to my sauce, I thought you liked it the way it is" Jon answered with a somewhat flat tone. Eric's face became still and confused as he contemplated how to better explain himself to his brother. "No, thats not what I mean, your sauce is great, I just think that something spicy could highlight the sauce a little more" he finally managed to blurt out in a single breath.

     "Well... if you think so, then we should make some, but you will have to show me how, I've never done it" Jon stated as his face lightened up some and he reached into the refrigerator to get some meat to hand to his brother. Eric felt bad that he had made his brother feel insulted because of his suggestion. He decided to not say anymore about the sauce until dinner was ready. Eric took the meat from his brother, peeled back the plastic from the two pound lump of cold pale red beef and then asked Jon for a bowl to mix in.

     Jon picked one of his favorite stoneware mixing bowls for his brother to use. The bowl was about twelve inches in diameter and about eight inches deep, with a white and blue glaze surface that reflected the glow of the gas range. Eric dumped the meat into the bowl on the counter-top. The silence bothered Eric, even though it seemed to not phase Jon. Eric resolved the silence by starting a conversation with Jon, "How did you learn to make your sauce?" Jon seemed a little agitated by the question, feeling as though it were just there to fill the air, but answered anyway "Oh, I sort of made it up after cooking a lot with grandma years ago. We used to make something similar for pizza. I liked the base flavor a lot, so I added my own adjustments to it." Eric seemed genuinely interested in the topic, and continued it "thats interesting, did you and grandma cook a lot together before I was born?" Eric broke up the meat and added spices. He also went rummaging to the cabinets looking for breadcrumbs, making a lot of noise. Once he located the breadcrumbs he opened the can and pointed to the eggs in a basket near Jon. Jon brought over two eggs while answering Eric's latest question. "We did cook a lot, but mostly desserts. Grandma loved chocolate."

     Jon cracked the eggs into the bowl over the meat. Eric tried to control his feelings about Jon doing that, but couldn't stop himself "Jon, not the whole eggs, just the whites! I use the yolks for breading the balls only!" Jon turned bright red, he had been cooking all his life and had never heard of separating eggs for anything except cakes. Jon immediately began an apology for his culinary error "I'm sorry bro, I didn't know". Eric analyzed his brother's embarrassed face, and then boldly dove at the bowl with both hands and quickly removed the unbroken yolks from the rest of the albumen membrane, with one yolk in each hand. He laughed and commanded to his brother, "Get me a bowl for the yolks."

Assignment:
Write a scene with two people in a kitchen. Describe the cookery, the food being prepared, and SHOW (not tell) us how all of this helps us to understand their relationship.

Response:
     The kitchen smells of garlic and tomato, the smell penetrates the air and is the first thing noticed upon entering the house. The sauce has been cooking all day, Jon has been preparing for this dinner since he woke.

     Jon stood silently at the stove. He was stirring his sauce with a wood spoon in his large black metal pot. Light streams of steam poured out of the pot as he stirred. The doorbell rang, and before he could turn from his pot, his little brother Eric stormed in. Eric goes directly to the kitchen, passing his brother, nudging him out of the way to gain access to the pot containing the bright red sauce. Eric liked Jon's sauce at this state better than any other, pure red sauce, with some basil, oregano and garlic. Eric grabbed a small steel spoon from the drawer beside him. He dipped the spoon into the sauce and tasted it, satisfied with the taste, he turned to his brother and said "hello". Jon laughed at his little brother's behavior and grabbed two heavily worn wood cutting boards from the wall behind the stove. Eric grabbed two knives from the wooden block on the island, placing one on each of the cutting boards. The knife placed on Jon's cutting board was very old, with some light rusting on the rivets keeping the heavy steel blade firmly attached to the cracking dry wood handle. It was Jon's favorite knife. The knife in Eric's hand was much newer, the handle and body of the knife both made of steel, the blade shining from its recent honing, and the handle coated in a thin plastic for comfort. Eric grabbed a bell pepper from the basket in the corner. He picked one that was dark green with firm skin and a glossy appearance. The ridges were deep and perfectly curved. Jon selected an onion from the same basket. The onion he placed on his cutting board had a dull yellow skin, and a few brown hairs of root still left on the bottom.

     Jon and Eric started preparing their vegetables. Jon peeled the onion, and then sliced it into 4 wide disks. Eric cut the bell pepper in half and used his hand to clean out the seeds. Jon lined up his disks of onion, then chopped them into several rows, and then turned the knife the other way and cut the columns. Eric mirrored the same behavior with the pepper, slicing it into strips, and then into small cubes. They finish at nearly the same time, and scrape the contents of their cutting boards into the pot with the back of their knives. The vegetables began to sink by themselves, but were quickly assisted by Eric using the wood spoon to stir them in completely. While Jon was slicing mushrooms very thin, Eric was watching him, looking as though he wanted to say something. After many moments of fidgeting and appearing anxious, Eric spoke up and asked "Jon, you ever thought of making meatballs to go with your sauce?"

Assignment:
Try to observe one of the following everyday actions and describe it in as much sensory detail as possible in two-three paragraphs or more: A person peeling, unwrapping, mixing, or in some other way preparing food and then eating it; a person pumping gas from drive-up to drive-off; a person dressing for an athletic practice or event, or a date; ten to fifteen nonsleeping minutes in the life of a dog or cat.

Response:
[July 1, 2007]
     He walked out of the house, across the yard. His feet sank into the ground as he walked across the dewy wet grass. He squished out across to the apple tree. The tree was green with many leaves, and bright red apples hanging from the branches. He approached the tree with great caution, circling, breathing in the sweet aroma of apples. He looked up and continued circling. He spotted the apple of his desire and flung himself at the base of the tree. With great struggling he climbed the tree and stretched his arm out as the other clung to the tree, the rough bark holding his skin firmly in place. Stretching his arm to its fullest reach, his gets a hold on his fruit. He plucks it from the tree and pulls it to himself, then jumps gently from the tree, almost losing his balance on the damp grass.

     The apple is fresh, smelling strong of its parent tree. The moisture from the air is beading in droplets rolling down the side of its shiny red flesh. The vibrant fruit was held firmly in his hand as he walked back across the yard to prepare and consume his breakfast. Following along his footprints of compressed grass he returns to the house. He entered his home, walking into the kitchen, grabbing a sharp knife out of the wooden block on the island as he entered.

     He doesn't like peeling his fruit. Normally he will eat the peel of his apples and eat his oranges directly from their rinds. The apple is rinsed gently under cool water, then tapped dry on a bright white terrycloth towel. The apple was placed on the wooden cutting board, and held firmly in place. He plucks the stem with his free, and tosses the ugly brown wood obstruction aside. The knife was raised above the apple, and pressed firmly into its flesh until it pops open and the knife penetrates the course texture of the meat of the apple. It is sliced in half, then quartered.

     He places the first slice between his teeth, and bites down. The juice of the apple flows into his mouth as he chews. The smell of apple fills the air as a breeze blows off of the fan above where he sits eating. He is immersed in the experience of the apple. He is focused on the flowing cool juices and the increasing smoothness of the texture.

Assignment:
Write a story in which someone is snooping around in his or her ex-boyfriend/girlfriend's apartment.

The ex- comes home with his/her best friend and the person has to hide in the closet. Describe what he/she finds there and what happens.

Response:
[June 16, 2007]
     Susan woke up to the sun coming through her bedroom window, the brilliant glow almost blinding. She had broken up with her boyfriend, Jake, several weeks ago in an argument she later herself declared to be stupid and juvenile. She had been doing well and not thinking of him most of the time they had been apart. This morning was different, it was Jake's birthday, and she remembered. She remembered his birthday, and missed him.

     Susan laid in bed until she found a way to appease her emotions. She tossed many ideas around in her head. She thought of things like calling him and trying to be friends, or trying to apologize and maybe salvage the relationship. Both of those options seemed terrifying to Susan, the thought of facing Jake that way made her pull the covers over her head. Susan then had a memory, she remembered one of the last times she had hugged Jake, she remembered the smell of his shirt, a very faint scent of cologne, mixed with a slight vapor of sweat, which she found very pleasing. She began to cry, as suddenly all of her emotions of missing Jake came back to her stronger than they had before.

     Susan finally got out of bed and got dressed. She ate breakfast and headed out of her house. She wondered if Jake would still be asleep or if he would be at the gym working out as he often does in the mornings. Susan decided to walk to Jake's house instead of driving, to give a little more time for Jake to be awake, and herself a little more time to think about what she was going to say to him. It was a thirty minute walk to Jake's house, when she arrived, she felt calm, relaxed and prepared to talk to him. She ran up the front steps with a great burst of energy, only to discover that he wasn't home. Disappointed, Susan turns around to leave, but halfway down the stairs, she remembers that Jake always keeps a spare key to get back into his house somewhere in the yard. Last time she saw him use the spare, it was attached to his basketball goal. She checked the goal, nothing there. She checked under his front mat, nothing there. She checked under the back mat, nothing there. She finally went to the front yard, and sat down under the small oak tree. She sat down and then looked up at the clouds, trying to give herself something to focus on while she waited for Jake. A breeze came through the tree, and she saw something above her head glowing gold in the light, dancing with the wind. It was the key, attached to a string and hanging from one of the lower branches. She tried to reach it, but was too short, she jumped, still too short. She looked at the tree and thought to herself "Jake always did say I needed to be more of an outdoors person". She thrust herself at the tree and climbed towards the branch. She was clinging to the trunk with one hand and trying to reach the key with the other. She grabbed the key, but then lost her hold on the branch and went flying to the ground with the key in her hand.

     The stairs were calling to her. She looked up to them, picked herself up and headed back to the door. She was a little nervous. She was worried that someone would see her going into his house, something she wasn't worried about when she was swinging from the branches of Jake's favorite tree. Susan slowly pressed the key into the door. The key clicked against the chamber of the lock cylinder. Susan's world fell silent. With a deep breath, she turned the key, until the click of the lock opening rang through her ears like thunder. She opened the door with a hiss and a squeak. She scurried inside and quickly closed the door behind her. She stood there, on the threshold to Jake's most private world. She looked out across his living room, she was shocked at she saw, it was spotless. Then, she noticed, on the far wall, there was something different. The very thing that she had been so unreasonable about that ended the relationship, a graphic movie poster for "Doom", was missing. In its place was a poster size copy of a picture that she had taken of a waterfall on a trip she took with Jake to the mountains. She hated the movie poster, but he thought it was "cool". During the argument, he refused to give it up and sacrifice his personality because she didn't like it. She asked herself out load "Why would he change that if it meant so much to him?". She worried that she had somehow ruined his self-esteem, or in some way managed to take away something he cared about. She walked around the room, and then wandered into his bedroom to find that it too was fairly clean, although, not as sterile as the living room.

     The trance of awe that had overcome Susan was broken as she heard the sound of the front door opening. She heard the voice of Jake's friend Mike "Dude, You have to stop working yourself so hard at the gym, you are going to hurt yourself", then she heard Jake's reply "shut up, I have to do something to keep my mind off of Susan". Mike sighed and agreed that after such an abrupt end, things would be hard for him. Jake then reminded Mike of what he had planned weeks ago, "I was going to propose to her the next day at dinner, and then she lost her mind and went on a rampage about my tastes in things and the way I maintain my home". Susan was surprised, she didn't think that Jake was that serious. She heard Jake's footsteps getting closer to the bedroom, so she dove into Jake's large walk-in closet that she was so envious of. As she got in and closed the door she thought to herself "what does a guy need with so much closet space?". She was soon glad that he had so much space. Jake walked into his room with Mike following behind, he headed for his closet, he undressed himself, then opened the closet door and threw his clothes into the basket in the corner. Luckily, Susan was able to hide behind some of Jake's hanging clothes and the closet was dark. Susan reached for the clothes that Jake had just taken off, she picked up his shirt, and felt the warmth still contained in the shirt from being on Jake's torso.

     Jake and Mike continued talking, primarily about the plans for Jake's party in the evening. Jake mentioned that he might be able to have a good time if he goes back to the gym for an afternoon workout to ensure his ability to clear his mind. Susan stood at the door of the closet, and peaked through the grate. Jake was still naked. She had never seen Jake naked before. After previously having a relationship based purely on physical infatuation, she swore she would never allow herself to see a man naked until she was certain she had emotions for him for the right reasons. Susan couldn't help herself, she admired Jake's body as he stood there and talked to Mike. She noticed how well defined his chest and abs were, the gentle sloping curves, and the visible tension in his abs from his morning workout. Chills went down her body as she analyzed his body, and realized that she had given up her dream of having both sides of what she wanted, someone to be emotionally attracted to as well as physically. She breathed deeply from Jake's shirt while she watched him put on his shorts and another t-shirt, both of which he had laid out on the bed before he left. Susan planned to leave Jake's house as soon as he was gone himself, and intended to wait in the closet until that time. She sat in the closet with Jake's shirt in her hands. She was reviewing everything that had occurred in her head, focusing so much on the thoughts that she didn't hear Jake announce that he was going into the closet to get a different pair of shoes. The door to the closet flung open and the light came on. Jake grabbed a pair of shoes from the shelf in the closet, beside where Susan was sitting, he then sat on his bed and put them on. He then looked up and asked, "Susan, are you planning to come to my party tonight?" Susan was stunned. She knew he had seen her, but she didn't expect him to be so calm. She didn't say anything, she just sat there stunned. Jake walked over to her, stood in front of her. At six feet and four inches tall, he towered above her as she looked up at him. He reached his hand down to her, she reached up to his hand, and he lifted her from the floor. Jake had a ridiculously happy smile on his face as he looked straight into Susan's eyes. "Well?" he said, "Are you going or not?". She responded, "Sure, I'll be there, that is, if you really want someone who is overly dramatic about neatness" He chuckled and sighed, "Of course I do".

Note: This is quite obviously the straight version of the story. I will consider re-writing it.

Assignment:
Describe the best time of the day.

Response:
     The best time of the day is the night. The night is deep and dark, mysterious and quiet. I like the night. During the night I am the only person around, but yet I am not alone. In the night I am not disturbed by anyone and I can focus on everything I need to eliminate distractions from.

     During the night it is quiet and calm outside. The area around me is dark, but the sky is full of light. I often pull out my telescope to gaze off into far off galaxies and imagine what life would be like in places other than Earth. Some nights I get away from the optical enhancement and lay on the ground, feeling the cold dampness of the grass on my back. One of my favorite things is laying on the ground and feeling the cool night air dancing over my body.

     Inside the house is still and peaceful. Everyone sleeps except for me. Often it seems as though the others in the house think I am odd for my nocturnal behavior. What they do not realize is that I operate in the night because they aren't around. I can listen to music without interference, and I can work on anything I want to work on without interruption. I am the classic computer science cliche. I stay up late at night, drinking lots of caffeine and working on my code. I also like to write in the dark. Starting with a blank page, I let my mind roll. I do not plan, planning takes too much away from the process and my feelings toward writing.

     At night I feel energetic. I feel completely and totally alive. Night seems to never make me tired, but excessive sunlight will always cause me to become exhausted. In the night I can make a list of tasks and complete them without a problem. I multitask and find ways to make logical sense of the most complicated problems during the night.

     Night makes me alive. It is my time of the day.

Assignment:
Journal Free Writing - A piece describing the detachment of a writer from his creative place as a result of a natural closing event in his life. In this circumstance, it would be the ending of an academic semester.

Response:
     "Silence, Silence you beasts!" the writer cries out. Weeks ago the writer entered the sacred chamber, wishing to find the depths of the white hot core. At that time the place seemed mysterious and worthwhile, and as if only good things could come from it. Now the writer is plagued day and night by the characters who enter and exit The Zone freely. It was such a difficult task to open those doors, it took weeks of trying to convince the doors to open and day after day many attempts were made to practice opening them. Now it is as though the doors are permanently open. The enemy the writer wishes to silence are the voices in his own head, the forbidden world that was unleashed.

     The writer's primary task in The Zone is finished, rapid access to the characters is no longer desirable, but they keep coming. The writer no longer visits the core, because the core comes to the writer. Day after day, night after night, anytime the writer is in the dark, or is in front of the liquid crystal glow, they come back. All of the characters that have been dug up from the core present themselves openly. For several days the writer has tried to silence the voices, and usher the beasts back to their cave, but they simply will not go.

     The writer sits alone in the dark. A young French speaking gentleman with a Quebec dialect appears beside him, speaking phrases that the writer does not know how to translate, but yet understands with absolute clarity. The message seems to be "for silence, you must visit where the voices are loudest." The writer brushes off the advice of Jean-Pierre and continues sitting silently in the dark. Jean-Pierre sits too.

     Out of the darkness behind the writer appears a sixteen-legged bug the size of a small dog, two brothers, a couple, and a character resembling himself, but very different. The writer doesn't notice the presence of the characters, until one of the brothers stands beside of him with a spoon of red sauce. The brother speaks to him, "hey, try this sauce." The writer knows the brother, and exclaims, "ERIC!" Eric jumps back near his brother. The writer turns around in his swiveling chair. He sees all of his characters assembled behind him, in an infinitely deep darkness packed in tight like molecules of diamond.

     The writer looks to Jean-Pierre, the character still sitting beside him. He gives a thought to the advice given to him before. The writer ignores the characters and spins himself vigorously in the chair, back to his desk. The monitor before the writer glows brightly. Focus is obtained. The writer stares intently at the flashing cursor on the monitor and begins following the familiar path back to The Zone. The orchestra begins to play, and the characters follow the writer through the darkness and back into The Zone. The instant the writer sees the white hot core, the characters are mysteriously gone from behind him. The writer takes a deep breath and marches with a determined stride directly into the core, he is absorbed into the glow of the core.

     The doors open immediately for the writer and a familiar voice announces "Welcome back, stranger". A moment of silence occurs. All is quiet for moments, then a hundred whispers can be heard. The hundred whispers grows in intensity to become a thousand conversations. The writer walks forward into the open white field. The voices become a million screams. The writer begins crying as he runs across the white space, searching for a way out, looking for a space to hide from the voices.

     The writer stops running out of exhaustion and drops to his knees, then yells at the top of his lungs, into the white sky "PLEASE.... LET...ME... OUUUUTT". A bright flash of light distracts the writer as a tall woman appears in front of him and the voices all stop. The woman speaks to him "You wanted in here so badly and now you wish to exit?" the voice is familiar to the writer, the voice that has always greeted him when entering The Zone. The writer looks up and responds "Yes, I need out for a while". "I will warn you, it won't be easy once these doors close" threatens the woman. The writer thinks and then commits, "I accept that, but I can't handle the pressure of them being open anymore". The woman responds "Done."

     The write finds himself back in his chair, in darkness and silence. He stands up, opens the curtain and exits the room, free from The Zone. He is protected from the excitement of the white hot core.

Assignment:
Journal Free Writing

Response:
Waking in the middle of the night
The room is dark
I am awake and I am sweating
My breathing is heavy

My thoughts are fuzzy
Thoughts that have been tossed around in a hurricane
I can't get back to sleep
The thoughts are spinning
My body will not allow me to sleep

I hate this feeling
A feeling reminding me that my body is in control
This is not about love
Pure hormone controlled desire is the fuel
Shouldn't an intelligent male be able to control the desire?

The room is cold, but I still sweat
Hot is the feeling of my body
I feel the heat in my face
A friend is asleep in the next room

If I could speak to my friend
I believe I would feel better
The embarrassment I feel prevents me
What if my friend thought it was strange?
My waking arousal makes me believe I am perverse

Assignment:
Journal Free Writing

Response:

The database

Composed of similar information
Complimentary structures make it possible

The tables are fortified
The records are consistent
Keys provide fast access to the array

Transition between the technical and the logical
All tables must interact with grace
Relationships form
The server makes a cache

Queries are used for communication
SELECT will return all matching records
INSERT will tell the database something new
UPDATE makes it easy to adjust things
DELETE is a harsh instruction

Simple queries use a single table
With joins the power of the query is multiplied
Like an elephant a database never forgets
It is eukaryotic organism

The structures are modular
All components have a purpose
Each component makes an impact

Data goes in, data goes out
Logic and technology in the most complimentary relationship

The database

Assignment:
Journal Free Writing

Response:
My boots are leather
They are black and shiny
Standing one foot tall
From collar to heel

The surface is smooth
Leather near the toe is soft
Wrinkles along the forefoot
Showing their age

These boots have been with me
For several years
I've worn them for working
In the yard and in the garden
They have been with me
In my studio and out for a midnight walk

My boots are special to me
I wear them for most everything
Keeping my feet safe
Becoming so familiar

For what my boots do for me
I take care of them well
Once per month they are oiled
Once each week they are polished

When they are finally worn out
I will have them restored
I have several pairs of boots
But these are my favorite.

Assignment:
Journal Free Writing

Response:
Laying on the floor
Abs are tensed
The muscles are on fire
Hundred reps feel like an hour
Sweat rolling off my body
Abs, chest and biceps glistening

The more crunches I do,
The more the feeling builds
Somewhere between excruciating pain
And absolute ecstasy
Feeling of accomplishment with every new rep
Ignoring my body's resistance to movement
Overcoming my mental limits for this type of pain

Pressing forward towards my goal
I must accomplish this
For myself I must persist
Through all of the sweat, tears, pain and even blood
I am the only one who can accomplish this goal for me

Assignment:
Journal Free Writing - Experience In The Garden

Response:

Beginning of July
Everything is so green
The garden is a sea of green
Green leaves are everywhere

The smell is definitely of tomato
Though none of the familiar red berries are near
Overgrown bushes overpower the garden fragrance
Bright yellow blossoms give promise of fruit to come

Cucumbers are growing long and firm
Hanging on the garden fence
Immature vegetables are thin and prickly
If plucked, they would be very bitter

Zucchini and yellow squash
Carrots and Peppers
All growing so well
Okra trees, six feet tall

Nothing in the garden is ready
Just the cucumbers
I have cucumbers up to my ears
I hate cucumbers!

Assignment:
Journal Free Writing - Poem for the frustrations of beginning drawing student

Response:
Pencil in hand
Pencil to paper
Image in mind
Image to paper

Delicately textured is the paper
Fibers catch the graphite
Or the coal
Oils also apply well here

Long, slow smooth strokes
These provide an outline of a shape
Short, quick almost erratic strokes
Those provide texture and shadow

Images do not match
Eraser to paper
Line do not connect
Paper to wastebasket