| the Journal | the Cult of Saint Cecilia

Perhaps the impression that I'm being given from this exhibit is true. Most of the artists being exhibited around me are in for possession of some miniscule quantity of pot or something, and they just want to go home to their kids. They're saddened by their captivity, but not angry. They've done nothing morally wrong, and just want a second chance... right? But I hate the fact that I'm given little to no information about the specific artists. It makes me suspicious. Is there something absent? Or something hidden? Little clues are dropped - "Here's a self-portrait done by so-and-so during his time on death row", and here's an illustraton done by a man who went left his three-month old son, and created this drawing to imagine a meeting between himself and his now full-grown 25 year-old. These things don't hint at small crimes, and the voice of the exhibit doesn't seem the type to fail to talk up the cases of those with blatantly unfair sentances.

So all in all, I'm left with the impression that I'm being buttered up by a bunch of people who don't even regard their chosen sympathy cases as human. I'm given the feeling that the people who run these organizations have some sort of idealized concept of what they're doing, and have little to no contact with the reality of the inmates that they are purportedly supporting.

I guess, at the end of the day, it's mostly a room-sized advertisement for the Books Behind Bars program - a book drive. But it sort of feels like the inmates, perhaps are being taken further advantage of... that there is another level of humiliation there. Don't even get me started on the subject of the two installations that were added to the show by local "artists" to help draw light to the plight of the modern-day incarcerated. I won't mention their juvenile attempt at doing a good deed so I won't get riled and ramble about the bull-shit activists who are willing to put in just enough effort on the internet to find a cause, but not willing to put out the pain neccessary to effect a change.

No, I won't get started on that at all, cause I'm waay over my 15 minutes.


Later that same day - -
Happy birthday George!!!
That's my brother. He's in Texas, studying to get his PhD in some insane thing like microgenetics, or genetic engineering or somesuch. Growing up in a NASA family is why I don't have the typical artistic fear of technology, perhaps.

I talked to George on the phone today, which is something I've GOT to do more often. He's a good guy, and extremely funny, as much as I don't think about him often, I miss having him around.

I've never been a believer in blood connexions - always thought that friendship was more important than the random vagueries of family. But I really like my brother. He makes me laugh.

October 26th, 2003.
At "home" at the Lloyds - I'm planning a trip to Strasburg with friends to go visit Santa Claus and the steam locomotives. Beautiful trains, I've done this every Christmas since I was like, four. I've got to ask my parents how THEY discovered it.

The feeling, telling Adam Day to bring his guitar so we can add music to our trip - is one of complete joy. Slowly I'm putting everything I want into my Life. I Love Christmas, and planning in advance makes it feel so close. We'll all go ride the train together, play some music, have a grand ole time. La.

October 29th, 2003.
All sorts of homecomings. Home comings to my parents' house (is it strange that I find all of the familiar mugs on the shelves so comforting), home coming to College Perk (all of my friends are there), home coming to the band (band practice tonight was a LOT of fun)... Home moving - moved to a new hosting service,, today. THAT was a pain in the ass. Jeezoflip AND sigh.

Yeah, sigh TWICE even. My parents probably think it strange that I went into the bathroom with my laptop. I guess I better quit typing, flush, and exit. ttfn.

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