Vimeo offers some of the most interesting videos (also available in HD), and here is one made by Carlos Lascano. Stop motion, an animation technique to make a physically manipulated object appear to move on its own, has always been one of my favorite types of animation. The object is moved in small increments between individually photographed frames, creating the illusion of movement when the series of frames is played as a continuous sequence.
A SHORT LOVE STORY IN STOP MOTION from Carlos Lascano on Vimeo.
This love story is fabulous. Don't you miss when it was that simple? You remember, right? Boxes on paper, with simple questions: Do you like me? Check yes or no. There were no major plans necessary. No fear of rejection....okay, maybe a little, because nobody wanted to be the person with all the checks next to no...lol. But love felt easier, back then. It was when two simple stick figures on a page meant something more, a beautiful and infinite connection. ______ loves ______ carved on to a picnic table was a deep sign of devotion. It exceeded all of the bullshit that ruins love now. The selfishness, the petty arguments, the lack of communication, etc.
Personally, I want to go back. To when it was simply about looking out, finding that person who made your heart beat faster, your eyes flutter, and your mind start picturing long kisses beneath old trees, blanketed by sunset. Is that really too much to ask? I think we complicate love, and relationships, by expecting too much. So from now on, I'm going in blindly like a giggling school girl (and yes, I said school girl on purpose...lol). I'm going in with only the expectation of love being possible and wonderful and for me. Even if there are mistakes, I won't let them ruin my perception of love.
Because somewhere, she is out there. The woman who will love me unconditionally.....and I'll unconditionally love her back.
Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Theme Song of the Day, Jan. 13, 2011
Kanye West ft Adam Levine --- Heard 'Em Say
This song is just so real, and there is so much everyday life in it, that it's hard to listen to it, and not find myself nodding in agreement with the lyrics.
"nothing's ever promised tomorrow, today...(but we'll find a way)...nothing last forever, but be honest, babe...it hurts but it may be the only way...."
I can feel the underlying message in this song: We aren't going to get future confirmation right now. We'll have to wait for that to come. If we keep searching for a way to get there, we'll make it. Hardships don't last always, but have to be acknowledged, because they exist for a reason. They might cause us pain, but maybe going through the pain is the only way to get to the pleasure that we seek.
Well, pain or not, I'm willing to continue on my journey, because I have places to go and a great man to be. Keep pushing, all!
Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet
On Creativity
What is it like, creating these things that we create?
If anyone has ever come close to truly explaining it, I believe that Amir Sulaiman does right here:
Black Swan ::: Mustafa Davis & Amir Sulaiman from amir sulaiman on Vimeo.
I am completely taken aback by this. It is beautiful. It is poignant. It is truthful. I can relate. Still haven't watched the movie, Black Swan, yet (although it is the one film that has been hyped up beyond all others for me). I really love the line at the beginning of Amir's poem:
And the word play at the end this piece, along with his vocal effects and the video....damn!!!! It was so powerful, it's insane. I felt that!!
Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet
If anyone has ever come close to truly explaining it, I believe that Amir Sulaiman does right here:
Black Swan ::: Mustafa Davis & Amir Sulaiman from amir sulaiman on Vimeo.
I am completely taken aback by this. It is beautiful. It is poignant. It is truthful. I can relate. Still haven't watched the movie, Black Swan, yet (although it is the one film that has been hyped up beyond all others for me). I really love the line at the beginning of Amir's poem:
"what does it feel like when the poem comes out?....said I feel like it's writing my insides out, and I got to get it out before my pen drys out, before my ego finds out....can't let my ego find out..."This is why I love Amir Sulaiman!! Words that come to life, for real. I imagine other writers, especially fellow poets, will agree with me on this one.
And the word play at the end this piece, along with his vocal effects and the video....damn!!!! It was so powerful, it's insane. I felt that!!
Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet
Bouncing Along
This is from a Sony Bravia commercial a few years back. I either don't recall ever seeing it, or luckily I am not so addicted to television that commercials stay embedded in my mind. Well, not some commercials, that is. But I have to admit that it's an awesome concept. 250,000 balls bouncing along the streets of San Francisco. The multitude of color easily got across the point of superb color quality in Sony Bravia television sets.
But then, I started thinking deeper. Imagine 250,000. To see the balls bouncing, some of them hitting other objects and halting their forward progression, it sort of gives you a better grasp of how big this world is. Take that initial 250,000 and multiple it by a thousand, and you'd still only get a fraction of the people in the world today. We are each like one of the bouncing balls in this video, bouncing along in this journey called life. We interact with the similar traveling balls that happen to entire our space, never fully aware of how interconnected we all are. We bounce from spot to spot, moment to moment, doing our best to avoid being knocked off our path. Some days, our movement is a slow, high-arcing leap, happening gradually but covering a great amount of distance. Other days, it is a quick, erratic springing, taking us in all directions, including backwards. Our movement is continuous, dependent upon our last, but also always subject to change.
And then, one day, the bouncing stops.
Here's to a long and eventful journey, until that very second that the ball comes to a halt.
Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet
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