inquisitive dragonfly / Texts
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...suddenly I don't feel so bad that all but 6 of my teeth have fillings of some size or another.
I recognize **CRUNCH** from a wisdom tooth extraction. I much preferred Extraction Take One, when they couldn't be removed whole, and little chips of tooth passed in front of my face, snugly held in delicate clamps...I highly recommend nitrous for such experiences.
I dislike confusion (I'm a scientist and/or writer in my other incarnation). The arrangement of pictures has been adjusted in an attempt to clarify that there is one photo per hour (alright, alright, there are two photos of the first one, but I like them both!), as in line with the interpretation of the task I could get without, as noted in previous praxis, figuring out how to set a one-hour exposure.
Naturally, controversy may now reign on the appropriateness of changing an already-submitted praxis...but then why else would there be an edit button? (Don't answer that).
It's actually meant to be two separate hours...the dragonfly in ice is exactly 1 hour 2 minute after I plopped it into a tray, with the viewer meant to infer that the ice must have started out as just water. The dragonfly on the ice island is 59 minutes after a completely different ice cube was removed from the freezer. The same dragonfly was involved, but I deliberately didn't take any pictures from the beginning of each hour. If you're going to be a stickler on numbers, be it on not-quite-accurate hours.
If I'd had any patience at all, I would have run a simultaneous hour of one dragonfly melting and the other freezing, so they would both be the part of the same hour. It didn't occur to me.
D*** it. Whose idea was this? Now I have to go dunk more dragonflies in ice.
I wondered about the "one" photograph, but I really couldn't decide between which hour (freezing or thawing) or with picture of freezing...I'm far too egotistical and wanted to show off my photos. =D
I didn't want to take a picture of just some patch of skin to keep with the non-visual idea of the task (although I did think about putting a relatively small object next to one bit to demonstrate the three-dimensionality of the vein). The sharpie idea has potential, though...
just tell me you didn't eat the one you'd put in your ear...that would be too much of the inner child.
Diana Wynne Jones' "Fire and Hemlock" gave me the comment about backs. A schoolgirl writes a story - something about offering to oil rippling muscles, I believe - to her crush, who attempts to dissuade her by returning a diatribe about the disgusting things that are to be found on backs. Squeezing zits may very well have been mentioned.
I can't remember if the book is any good, but those few pages have always stuck with me. Mostly because said letter is actually dictated to a third character, who adds a variety of comments about feeling entirely put off by the topic. I felt sorry for that character, but also gleeful that he'd been put in the situation.
LP: I deliberately gave myself no time to think about what I was doing; the task was completed within an hour of finding the pig's feet in the grocery store. Otherwise I wouldn't have done it just for tasking either (probably). I woke up this morning with "what on earth was I thinking?". But it certainly made for a unique Friday night.
And I tossed the pig's feet. It's bad enough how the smell lingers in my tiny apartment from the pickling getting spilled in my rush to Listerine. I did, however, save the jar. It shall be prominently displayed for any guests to wonder over.