KRISTINE bluePrint* for this Place

• ActionScript used in the flash movies (showing the words "Some Frames Are Always On" in a deliberate sequence):
  
  
  • there's three instances of a movieclip message1, message2 & message3 on the main timeline containing only a textfield for variable theMessage:

• there's no way for you to know for sure but the hand/skin/mouth images are exactly what the words say they are. But, yes, i know, it is not easy to think in terms of the event.

*KRISTINE bluePrints like this one will be added systematically to places where code samples or other resources might be of interest from now on. Later the KRISTINE Academy may or might not refer to them. The code examples you'll find there are by no means examplary, i'm a fairly confused programmer with a twisted mind, but i find that i've learned most from loosely encountered fragments like these by other people so it seems the right thing to do. Note that the copyright thing is mostly there for promoting the Free Art License itself, i don't see you actually using any of it ;-)

And then sometimes there might be some meaning creeping into the code as well. Sufficient cause established.
dv 31/01/2006

// do not compile in public (PG +18)

i                                                       i                                        i

i                                                                                   i

i                  i                            i                    i
i

i

lower=new deFunct(){if(

MPTy

){

//corrupted archive

ell e is s he blood be my offering hellyparton qu'on se part ittiewit

iBurOs

appen h di tür
kein herz im kopf;

//end archive

}else

{

strike();
balance();
lower();

}

Prologue to a Sad Spring

 

Jerome Rothenberg seems to be one of the very few poets i actually enjoy reading. I mean i like a lot of poetry by many different authors, i admire and even idolise some great masters that are beyond our mortal reach, but most of these i find myself using, abusing as stimulants for my own work. They are food and i would starve without their presence but i do not enjoy reading them. Apart from these elder brothers and sisters being nauseatingly frustrating because they present you with levels of achievement you are very unlikely ever to reach near to, they do not have the priviledge of finding their way to those hidden hotspots of my individuated skin that, when slightly eversolightly touched trigger the heartwarming chemical flow of what in my poor English i can only describe as a near-orgastic thrill.

Yes it is quite hard to write in a second language without sounding gross, oversimplifying and utterly boringly cliché. Nabakov could do this, but he was forced to do so, circumstantially, and succeeded forcefully by making the circumstancial fact the core and driving engine of his monstrously captivating writing machine. I have no such inner need nor the talent to reach that level, but i force myself from time to time because the Cathedral wants me to. Her becoming is sui generis an international event and i can't ignore the necessities of what is happening. Never mind, shake off the Shandy, we were nipping a glass of Jerome, a particularly rich barrell of shameless authorship.

Why do i bring him up, again and why here? Well, two books and a girl:
Sarah M. Lowe's photo-book Tina Modotti & Edward Weston-The Mexico years, Rothenberg's own 'A book of Witness' and my eight year old daughter who very much wants me to draw with her at night, after her little brother's buzy little mouth has finaly gone quiet and she, if she's lucky, gets to spend some time with her dad. She's very talented, she is. It isn't much of a challenge, but all of my children will outdo me, artistically or otherwise. That's as much a known fact to me as it is to all parents.

She won't have me interfering with her designs in any way ( i nag to her too) . She wants me to sit with her and draw silently as well, both of us busy on our own and my failures duly inspire her with sufficient confidence to win, each and every time, the biggest price of all, an enthousiastic compliment of her mother ( i get a kiss on the cheeck and a reminder to let the dog out- oh god it's freezing again out there).

So, to hell with it, inasmuch as i am abused by my own flesh and blood, i will from here on abuse you, force you to watch me go through many many a Mexican year, and as many failures, hideous drawings cleverly covered up by all the digital means at my disposal. Just because i chose that book as a drawing practice. And Jerome, well he shouldn't have been giving me that much pleasure, now should he.
For sheer need of brutal vengeance, i'll just drag him into this as well. God shave the queen, i'll show you what net-punk really is! Watch me cut up, fold and squeeze that aimiable old man, twist him like an orange slice and make his words bleed on the ultimate horror, an acre of fresh white for each letter in them, i know i can do it. Recombinant Art, phjew, as bad as it gets, straight from Kessel-lo, one of the direst of wormholes in the Universe & you 'll just have to sit & swallow it. Welcome to the becoming of a sad sad spring.

Otherwise, do keep quiet about this. I want to make her a present of the drawings for her next birthday. Showing it here will no doubt make that wish act on me, abuse my abuse of me abusing you and authors dear to me, towards a future fact of self-inflicting beauty. Drawing, after all, is but a gesture, counting.

dv 3/02/2006 3:29

 

 

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Just to be a bit obnoxious yourselves, order & buy these at your local bookstore, before they've all gone broke:
- Jerome Rothenberg. A book of witness : Spells & Gris-Gris, ISBN 0-8112-1537-7 - Sarah M. Lowe. Tina Modotti & Edward Weston: The Mexican years, ISBN 1-8589-4245-4