Eight, Nine, Ten

Riding 8 miles a day to and from work is kinda like listening to a Bob Dylan song. Especially early in the morning when I am still asleep, it feels trite. You're not caught with a particularly catchy melody. Then little by little the blood starts to flow, and the words formulate an ever so subdued story. In my own little Juju world I am sure he's talking about me. A pigeon directly on my track is caught off guard so it flees simultaneously in the same direction just about a foot ahead of me. The harmonica eases out from the background.

♫ I’m ready to go anywhere, I’m ready for to fade. Into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way. I promise to go under it... ♫

What felt trite just a little while ago is now alive and it feels like I'm experiencing the fourth of July. But wait, it's August - I start to form a smile. Whoa, it's 8-9-10, even the date is in order.

In my imaginary agnostic lent, I recently gave up listening to my Ipod while riding. Despite the insatiable company of Bob, I thought maybe I should I listen and think to myself. I need to create some concoctions for the near future regarding my employment whereabouts. Retail is fun, but what I really wanna do is be creative. As a matter of fact I figured out how to model a cookie inside a plastic wrapper during yesterday's trip. How lustful does this look?:



I think I should take away some reflective quality from this clear plastic material, but I like how crazy shiny it is. The criss-crossing lines look to me like perfectly controlled chaos, but it's really just trial and error, with a little bit of kismet thrown in the mix. Needless to say, it doesn't look real, but whatever for all I know I'm in some inception world by Leo DiCaprio.



If only my renders can become real things. I would for sure just render money every chance I get, and of course spend it every chance I can. That would be sweeter than if the city of Chi mysteriously relocates itself in the middle of the pacific. I think I watch too much Lost.