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2000-06-04 04:51:09

bohemian history

There's this ad flashing in my face right now. It says, "They've studied four hard years... to prepare for the real world... now give them what they really need to succeed... a laptop." I don't think I need to comment any further on that.

You know, Bohemia is a region of the Czech Republic. And I am 25% Czech. But I like to tell people that I'm Bohemian.

I'm 20. I'll be 21 in about two months. And yet, I look like I'm 15 (this according to my 13 year old cousin). Kind of annoying. I guess it won't be too bad when I'm 30 and look 25. But just now it's kind of annoying. My last roommate was 24 and looked thirty or older. Almost totally bald, he was (and is). My brother is 18, and looks (according to my cousin, again) to be 14. At least she thinks I look older. My sister is 15, and she actually looks 15. If you lined up all three of the kids in our family, and had a complete stranger try and rank us from oldest to youngest, they would probably have no idea who was who. We could be triplets. Anyway... Once when my mother was 20 and my aunt was 13, they went horseback riding and had a stranger pick which was 20 and which was 13. The stranger picked my mom as 13 and my aunt as 20.

My mother lived in a French horse racing town for three years. She was apparently a pretty good rider, but I don't think she's been on a horse once since I was born.

I used to think that by the time I was 21, I would no longer look like a kid and I would think of myself as a man. I don't think that anymore.

I was into art and writing a lot more when I was a kid. Starting around puberty, music and sports (swimming and wrestling, to be exact) kind of eclipsed those old interests. From the time I was born till I was eight or so, my mom was working on getting a degree in art (she also has a BS in civil engineering and an MS in environmental engineering (whereas my father has degrees in physics, environmental engineering, and health physics)), so sometimes I would come with her to the college on Saturdays and draw while she worked on one of her projects. One time when she was working on an etching, she let me make one. It was entitled, "Cobras in the Desert." It's pretty funky. My first painting was entitled "Steam Shovel and Three Rs," done when when I was three or four. It was inspired by the book, "Are You My Mother?" by Whoever It Was That Wrote It. To most people, it looks like a complete mess with no discernible images at all, but it still seems completely evident to me what it is a depiction of. Certainly, it was this artist's interpretation of "a steam shovel and three Rs," and not a direct transfer of the images onto canvas. ... I don't feel I need to explain my art to you...

Neither do I need to validate my masculinity to you. ; P

I wrote science fiction and fantasy short stories prolifically starting in kindergarten, through about 5th or 6th grade. Some of them are pretty funny to read now. In 5th grade I entered a public school short story/poetry contest. The theme was "Where the Sky Ends." I wrote a short little piece about a fighter pilot who ends up in this totally tripped out situation, and then in the middle of a jungle, completely without any explanation as to why. I still think it's a pretty cool little story. It got an honorable mention in the school competition, which was good enough to get it sent to the state competition, where I got second, just short of the national competition. The first place entry was some stupid ass story about a war between all the big sisters and all the little brothers. It made me want to puke. The next year the theme was "If I Had One Wish," and I wrote a more involved post-apocalyptic thing about humans having to evacuate earth because it got too polluted. The main character ended up getting hurt in the escape, and it ends with him in a hospital on the moon thinking something like, "If I had one wish, it would be that we had taken better care of our planet back when it was still possible." I got totally snubbed at the school competition. The winner wrote some sapfest poem which had me swallowing my breakfast a second time. I think the contest was judged by a "Ladies Reading Club" or something like that. That was really the end of my serious attempts at writing... There seems to be two types of judges in children's writing contests- those who want the best stuff and those who want the cutest stuff. Most of the judges seem to be the latter.

it's so unfair
when they can't see
that i'm the boy
they really need

I did write a short story last fall though. It was one of those cases where I just had to write it- you know that quote, "Never write anything unless the not writing of it become a positive nuisance to you."- that was the situation. It was based on a dream I had a few years ago- probably one of the most vivid dreams I've ever had. I wrote most of it in one all night session. I'm fairly pleased with how it turned out. Only about three people other than myself have read it. Mysteria's comment was, "These are the kinds of things you dream about? No wonder you live in a constant state of seriousness." I'll take that as a compliment. If anybody else wants to read it and take a trip into my subconscious, just email me...

I'd like to write more short stories... I'm pretty good at essay writing and research papers... My problem is that I've gotten good at telling the difference between crap writing and good writing, and I'm not optimistic about my ability to pump out the one as opposed to other.

Around age 15 is when music really eclipsed all my other artistic interests. I was going through some tough times then, and music helped me deal with my feelings more than anything else. And it's been that way ever since. Nothing makes me feel as euphoric as music does. And nothing helps me understand my feelings like music does. Music is probably more important to me than anything else.

"This music... is the glue of the world, Mark. It holds it all together. Without this... life... would be meaningless."

when the music is your special friend
dance on fire
it enchants
music is your only friend
until the end

you know I believe it