I was upset for a bit that I wasn’t a Sagittarius anymore. When the whole zodiac spook took over the world, I learned that I am a new sign:
“Ophiuchus is considered a healer of men and a doctor of medicine or science. He seeks higher education and enlightenment. He is expected to achieve a high position in life.
Like Joseph, he is an interpreter of dreams and vivid premonitions. He is envied by his peers and favored by his father and authority figures.
The Asclepius and the Caduceus, the medical staff, are based on the constellation.
Now all you new Ophiciuchi can move beyond your identity crises.”
I will let go of Saggitarius, if my sign really has changed, because Ophiuchus sounds pretty damn sweet.
As the article mentions, I am finally beyond my identity crisis.
Pictures I’ve been meaning to put up of my trip to the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. Actually, there are just a lot of pictures I’ve been meaning to put up.
Sorry furr the blurr
{Richard Ritter, Daniel Crichton, Maude Bussieres, Ginny Ruffner, Harvey Littleton, Dominick Labino, Marvin Lipofsky, Francois Houde, David James, Ray Flavell, Danful Yang, Paul Stankard, and others were found in this exhibit}
I’ve been having this creative urge to take pictures of my own glass art lately. It has this weird capability to be ambiguous and beautiful at the same time. It would please me if people looked at it and had no idea what is was or how it was produced. That, I think, may be the characteristic goal of all artistic creations.
On with the pictures. I like them because they reflect experiences that I wouldn’t otherwise remember. Like being in this maple syrup shop, for example:
Up at Mount Tremblant last weekend for a ski trip, I saw this traditional Quebecoise treat for the first time. You literally pour hot maple syrup on snow and roll it onto a stick. Why don’t we have cool stuff like this back in the States??
There is literally a website for anything now, including a passive-aggressive way to flirt with the people you see around campus. If it were to ever work out that the person you happened to be talking about knew that you were talking about them, through simply their hair color, gender and color of their jacket, would you really be desperate enough to try to meet up with them via LikeaLittle? I suppose it is a bridge to further Facebook communication, however, seeing hot strangers on the street is often more satisfying when they remain strangers.
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