Tannic Teeth

So week seven. How has the writing and new technologies course been so far?

It’s been good. As one would expect the pace of uni now has moved into hyper speed with a lots of assignments due all tragically within the same week. As if it was by some tormented creator everything else in my life is ramping up. Work would like more hours, I’m offered another job, I’ve got this photography thingo to do, I’m wanting to start yoga, got to think about writing next months wine article whilst taking on more of an editorial job. LOL. Really I should be a little more thorough in my work that i churn out here first as a good start point. Oh yeah what did this have to do with my reflections on the my course (shit - sorry!) umm yeah the course has taught me so far to look through texts as well as looking at them and that the digital realm is fluid and ever changing. one thing about it is that rules are broken in every genera. With all that now aside I feel like a beer. This was taken at the James Squire Chef Match Launch on Monday 8th Sept.

So you have an assignment due on Friday, a 20 percenter (1000-1200 words) in Writing for Popular Mags. Attempt one, which I shall call Version 1.0, a measly 2 lines, lies in my other window collecting e-dust as I try to entertain my caffeinated thoughts. Maybe this is a good little mental warm-up, you know like stretching before tackling that rock-climbing wall or bouldering problem (Yes -I know Devil’s Advocate I haven’t climbed in a while - but I still think I’ll whop your ass!).

Limber your thoughts before creating your next masterpiece?

LOL.

Getting those neural pathways firing in all directions so you can only discover that ‘it’s about time to vacuum your room, dust and do the rest of the things that you didn’t find the time for over the weekend,’ but because you have an assignment lording over you, now is better time than any. My mental browser tracks between the aforementioned assignment, boring-ass work this arvo and Her. I like the frenetic pace of my tangled thoughts, ‘twisted reasons that strange my mind like liquorice laces.’

Perhaps I like the pressure. Diamonds after all, are created by such.

Week 4 has ticked past me like a Dali clock: painfully slow then exceedingly fast. Of course all the fun times blur past and you hope your 8hr bottle-shop shift on a Saturday night is already over. Divvying up time from uni, relationships, gym, work and my jealousy guarded sleep leaves nothing much left for simply sitting down, as I am now, and thinking about how the hell the next 10 or so weeks of uni will pass. One day at a time I guess, but with a little more clarity and focus? That’s what I would like. And it’s not found in a bottle of wine, it’s found during those times of silent contemplation (only silent because I can’t have my music up loud because people are sleeping now). This unit is interesting- as for the Assignment that we have to be ‘considering’ at the moment, I have paid it no regard. But I’ll start it soon I guess, maybe tomorrow after my indulgent sleep.

(Writing and New Technologies Exercise Week 3)

I would wake up every morning and hope my luck would hold out on me. I had to run into the stinging surf, the hiss of bubbles around me, a spa for those how dared to live, amongst rocks jagged like a boars spine. We were looking for mermaid’s tears, each one of us rejoicing when we discovered a mature one, lovely and rounded by thunderous surf. Sometimes they were really fresh, jagged as a sawtooth, far too immature to trade with the Cirrus people. They liked the reds the oranges and blacks. But the black ones are becoming rarer and rarer something that they have a developed a great appetite for. To them it reminded them of sunsets, something they rarely if ever saw

I have always been amused by their ways. They take the mermaid’s tears, polish them and embed it along their faces. Following the contours of leathery hides blasted by years of living at high altitude on their floating cities. Our soft skin would never so much as hold a single tear, for our kingdom is the surf; the edge of the mighty oceans, for we are fluid like the waves that pommel us. But we were just on another level those Cirrus above and the ‘Others’ below. Those that exist below us, in an unsigned contract never to venture into others realms. Sometimes when we swim out too The Lens and look down we see the Underlords, harvesting their bounty but selfishly do not trade.

The higher ranking Cirrus wear the Tears in designs that us beachcombers have seen in the sky. Patterns swirl across their faces, a testament to the clouds they harvest. I have always envied their freedom, for skycombing must be liberating.

Endevouring to be the good student second time round at uni, my blog will, at least partly, fall victim to some of my assessments. Gone are the days of languid studentdom doing the bare minimum to pass; I actually desire the HD of assessments long unattainable. Now perhaps is my time to get cracking…

In a strange twist of fate or fortuitous serendipity, the unit that I was originally enrolled in was canned (due to lax numbers), that I thought was critical: learning to write right. Sadly my poor grammar and syntax will be inflicted upon undeserving side units (and their respective tutors) in what I would term ‘collateral damage’ -not entirely Rumsfieldian. By choosing this unit which is Writing and New Technologies I’ve managed to shave off 3 hrs of physical contact time at uni, but possibly increased my online time 4 fold not to mention my morbidly obese download limit.  The unit looks like it’s more student instigated learning, a change from the force fed hold-my-hand pampering I have been used to in the past.

I look forward to the new semester ahead. Bring on the mi-goreing and red bull.