Once a month I work at a thrift shop.
Three books and a toy,
Two shirts and a pair of pants.
That'll be nine dollars.
-Kat
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Abstraction
Today I learned something new.
The board is a simple, square grid, nineteen lines crossed by another nineteen lines in opposition. The pieces are smooth, perfectly round stones, half of them black and half of them white. That is the entire physical presence of this game. The board sits in the middle of the table and the pieces reside in matching wooden bowls, one on each side of the board.
When the game is played it takes on meaning much greater than the pieces of wood and stone can while they are still. Each tiny crossing point becomes a citadel waiting to be captured and each stone is an army of invaders. Generals man the board and begin taking territory for themselves. The tension is almost nonexistent as they begin conquering lands on opposite ends of the earth, but soon one side wants what the other has and they move toward each other.
Soon a battle has erupted. Each side continues taking turns, but they no longer move over a friendly map. Now the black and white stones are placed with deliberation as each side desperately tries to hold on to places to breathe. A fatal move is made and a small pack of white stones die. They are removed and their absence highlights the gains for the black side.
The game continues, a constant struggle on each side, gaining and losing ground with quick placements of the round stones that are battalions and the sky all at once. New land is taken and old land changes hands. Countless battles are carried out and the map is in constant flux. Then the game is over and the pieces are simple stones once again. They are swept aside and laid to rest in their bowls, the wooden board is put up and the war just fought returns to being an abstraction.
-Kat
The board is a simple, square grid, nineteen lines crossed by another nineteen lines in opposition. The pieces are smooth, perfectly round stones, half of them black and half of them white. That is the entire physical presence of this game. The board sits in the middle of the table and the pieces reside in matching wooden bowls, one on each side of the board.
When the game is played it takes on meaning much greater than the pieces of wood and stone can while they are still. Each tiny crossing point becomes a citadel waiting to be captured and each stone is an army of invaders. Generals man the board and begin taking territory for themselves. The tension is almost nonexistent as they begin conquering lands on opposite ends of the earth, but soon one side wants what the other has and they move toward each other.
Soon a battle has erupted. Each side continues taking turns, but they no longer move over a friendly map. Now the black and white stones are placed with deliberation as each side desperately tries to hold on to places to breathe. A fatal move is made and a small pack of white stones die. They are removed and their absence highlights the gains for the black side.
The game continues, a constant struggle on each side, gaining and losing ground with quick placements of the round stones that are battalions and the sky all at once. New land is taken and old land changes hands. Countless battles are carried out and the map is in constant flux. Then the game is over and the pieces are simple stones once again. They are swept aside and laid to rest in their bowls, the wooden board is put up and the war just fought returns to being an abstraction.
-Kat
Monday, November 7, 2011
Night
It's been a little while, but I finally sat down and wrote a new piece.
As the wind blows through my coat and I pull it closer to my body, I wonder why I took a job that left me walking alone in the dark late at night. Far away are the sounds of a sporting event I cannot really bring myself to care about, but apparently it's going well - I've distanced myself considerably and I can still hear the cheers. I start walking a little faster, both to try to warm up and to get further away. It's really dark now, and I stick as close to the lamp posts as I can for fear of whatever unknown things might be in the shadows.
As I continue my solitary journey, passing between old and familiar buildings, I start seeing flashes of lightning all around. They're pretty far off at the moment, but they remind me of the predicted storms I heard about earlier and didn't pay much attention to. I wrap my coat closer to me again, although I am less cold than before, and keep walking.
I've made it pretty far now, and I realize I can't hear the cheering crowds anymore. Now it's nearly silent. It's late in the season, so there aren't many bugs out to create their evening music and there's still no one near me to disrupt the night air. A bit of thunder comes behind the most recent flash of lightning and I start to calculate whether or not I'll make it home before the storm hits.
The silence is deeper when it is punctuated by thunder, it's like the night is sighing between each burst of noise. Then, for just a second, lightning flashes right above me and lights everything up like daylight. The sensation is gone almost as soon as it has appeared, but it left it's mark anyway. I pay even less attention to my surroundings as I remember it and try to hold onto that memory and feeling so I can bring them back later.
I stop and look around me and realize I'm a lot closer to home than I had thought. Good, I think, I'll make it home before I get soaked. Then as I turn the corner to walk the last block home, the rain starts. I laugh out loud, thinking of the strangeness and simplicity of this evening walk, and then I break into a run to get to my door before I get completely soaked.
-Kat
As the wind blows through my coat and I pull it closer to my body, I wonder why I took a job that left me walking alone in the dark late at night. Far away are the sounds of a sporting event I cannot really bring myself to care about, but apparently it's going well - I've distanced myself considerably and I can still hear the cheers. I start walking a little faster, both to try to warm up and to get further away. It's really dark now, and I stick as close to the lamp posts as I can for fear of whatever unknown things might be in the shadows.
As I continue my solitary journey, passing between old and familiar buildings, I start seeing flashes of lightning all around. They're pretty far off at the moment, but they remind me of the predicted storms I heard about earlier and didn't pay much attention to. I wrap my coat closer to me again, although I am less cold than before, and keep walking.
I've made it pretty far now, and I realize I can't hear the cheering crowds anymore. Now it's nearly silent. It's late in the season, so there aren't many bugs out to create their evening music and there's still no one near me to disrupt the night air. A bit of thunder comes behind the most recent flash of lightning and I start to calculate whether or not I'll make it home before the storm hits.
The silence is deeper when it is punctuated by thunder, it's like the night is sighing between each burst of noise. Then, for just a second, lightning flashes right above me and lights everything up like daylight. The sensation is gone almost as soon as it has appeared, but it left it's mark anyway. I pay even less attention to my surroundings as I remember it and try to hold onto that memory and feeling so I can bring them back later.
I stop and look around me and realize I'm a lot closer to home than I had thought. Good, I think, I'll make it home before I get soaked. Then as I turn the corner to walk the last block home, the rain starts. I laugh out loud, thinking of the strangeness and simplicity of this evening walk, and then I break into a run to get to my door before I get completely soaked.
-Kat
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Friday, November 4, 2011
Sleep
Sometimes I have a hard time falling asleep because I've got a lot on my mind. This is usually how I feel.
Tossing and turning,
There's a song stuck in my head.
I can't fall asleep.
-Kat
Tossing and turning,
There's a song stuck in my head.
I can't fall asleep.
-Kat
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Tea and Books
This is a sentiment I feel pretty strongly, but have absolutely no time to act on now; so I thought I'd share.
-Kat
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Another Review
I went to see a play this evening based on the shooting at Columbine High School. It was very good, especially in it's portrayal of the mental states of the shooters.
I just watched a man
Descending into madness -
Yelling and sobbing.
-Kat
I just watched a man
Descending into madness -
Yelling and sobbing.
-Kat
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