Yo! What's up, old man? I haven't written on you in a long while. I've been busy doing nothing lately. I'm thinking we're pretty much the same!
Right? It'd be pretty freaky if you could talk back and stuff, though.
Rembrandt, remember these two things: polyaniline and foldable phone displays.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
On ambitions
Hi again. Let's see what I can start with... how'bout a little background history?
According to what my birth certificate says, I was born on October 27th of the year 1992. I was named after my two grandfathers, Luis Whitaker and Ramon de Leon. My name isn't original at all, I kinda wish I got a more grandiose or sexy name, but hell, you're just my damn notebook right now and not a legendary artist so I guess we're just even tonight.
As a really young kid, I could already retain memories pretty well, so I still know most things that happened back on the day I took my first steps. I still remember how I was left in an elevator when my parents separated—it wasn't pretty.
Two years after forming kiddie dreams such as becoming a dinosaur when I turn 23, I wanted to become a carpenter and an astronaut, maybe both. I thought carpenters weren't paid for a lot and becoming an astronaut was too unachievable a dream as only really smart kids can wear those suits to space. Then, 'cause my mom was a nurse once, came my discovery of a stethoscope lying in one of those little toolboxes mom used to have. I then wanted to be a doctor. Yup, I knew how to spell 'stethoscope' before I could spell 'ball'.
Then came coloring books. Those were awesome, I spent lots of time coloring pages with turtles and frogs. I liked frogs and turtles a lot. I wanted my house in the future to be painted in this turtle-y green shade with some accents of white. So upon realizing that I enjoyed making my little masterpieces, I asked mom if I colored them pages nicely and if my drawings are pretty OK. All she said was “continue doing that, you're doing a good job” or something like that. That day, I told her that I'm gonna be a painter when I grow up.
I guess I caught your interest already, Rembrandt. This kid wanted to be a painter! Hell yeah. I took those little summer lessons with watercolor and pastel stuff handed to us by our teachers. For our first assignment, we had to paint a realistic bowl of fruits. I remember spending too much time on coloring those grapes and trying to give them value by painting them over with white. I got scolded for doing so.
I'm guessing this is long enough for an entry here in your pages. 'Til next time!
Ramon
According to what my birth certificate says, I was born on October 27th of the year 1992. I was named after my two grandfathers, Luis Whitaker and Ramon de Leon. My name isn't original at all, I kinda wish I got a more grandiose or sexy name, but hell, you're just my damn notebook right now and not a legendary artist so I guess we're just even tonight.
As a really young kid, I could already retain memories pretty well, so I still know most things that happened back on the day I took my first steps. I still remember how I was left in an elevator when my parents separated—it wasn't pretty.
Two years after forming kiddie dreams such as becoming a dinosaur when I turn 23, I wanted to become a carpenter and an astronaut, maybe both. I thought carpenters weren't paid for a lot and becoming an astronaut was too unachievable a dream as only really smart kids can wear those suits to space. Then, 'cause my mom was a nurse once, came my discovery of a stethoscope lying in one of those little toolboxes mom used to have. I then wanted to be a doctor. Yup, I knew how to spell 'stethoscope' before I could spell 'ball'.
Then came coloring books. Those were awesome, I spent lots of time coloring pages with turtles and frogs. I liked frogs and turtles a lot. I wanted my house in the future to be painted in this turtle-y green shade with some accents of white. So upon realizing that I enjoyed making my little masterpieces, I asked mom if I colored them pages nicely and if my drawings are pretty OK. All she said was “continue doing that, you're doing a good job” or something like that. That day, I told her that I'm gonna be a painter when I grow up.
I guess I caught your interest already, Rembrandt. This kid wanted to be a painter! Hell yeah. I took those little summer lessons with watercolor and pastel stuff handed to us by our teachers. For our first assignment, we had to paint a realistic bowl of fruits. I remember spending too much time on coloring those grapes and trying to give them value by painting them over with white. I got scolded for doing so.
I'm guessing this is long enough for an entry here in your pages. 'Til next time!
Ramon
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Bird talk
A couple of birds are tweeting quite loudly from a nearby tree. One of them sings to herself a little morning song while the others seem to tell her with their tight strings of chirps, “Shut up, missy, it's seven in the morning.”
They continue to talk in bird, but I don’t understand bird.
They continue to talk in bird, but I don’t understand bird.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Much, really, has changed
The lights of the city shone warmly in your eyes—that, I could most vividly recall. I took a pen and jot down:
“I miei scarpe pavoneggiarsi sulle gradino di ceramica con un ritmo dolce poco lento.
Y
“I miei scarpe pavoneggiarsi sulle gradino di ceramica con un ritmo dolce poco lento.
Y
o
u
a
r
e
be
a
uti
f”
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