The digital home of Richard Sebastian

One Trick Pony

I had to watch a little digital movie I made last term AGAIN this morning. I should be flattered, I know, that something I made (at the last minute, with little forethought, and with my usual degree of carelessness) is seen so favorably that it is viewed over and over again and is used by my professor almost like a sales tool for our program. People do seem to connect with it, but, of course, I interpret their appreciation of it as evidence of their poor taste and low standards. But, that is just my deal. Still, if I had known I would have to watch it over and over again, I would have taken care to fix a few blemishes, redo a few of the edits, put more thought into its construction. Alas, it is too late.

Maybe it will be the last good thing I do. Shit. If it gets me funding for the next three years, who cares. I will ride that mofo all the way to 2007.

The pool was abysmally crowded tonight. The lockers in the men’s locker room as placed so close together that, during crowded nights like tonight, your ass sometimes touches the ass of the guy across from you. You both bend over to put your underpants on (or take them off) and–plap–your asses slap together in a kind of inadvertent and awkward High Five. It is especially unpleasant if the bumpee’s ass is still cold and damp from the pool.

Not that it happens a lot. But, it has occurred more than once. Enough for me to carefully take in my surroundings before slipping in or out of my skivvies.

I have still not been able to correct my wayward kick, and my pitifully spindly arms end up doing most of the work when I swim. It is odd to try and rework something that has become habitual. My legs want to kick as they always have–it feels natural now–which means that trying to correct them feels so unnatural. I feel like I am flailing from one end of the pool to the next, and I exert myself so much that I can only last about half and hour before I move to the jacuzzi and then cap off the evening in the sauna. I leave the gym famished, with my muscles buzzing and tender.

3 Comments

  1. tasteetriceps

    J’adore that post-gym high.

    What was the subject of that movie?

  2. RichardS

    It is a two-minute “digital story” about my experience teaching in jail. I used mugshots of prisoners to contrast my first, simple impression of inmates as mere criminals to my later understanding of them as multi-facteted, often flawed, people. It is also a comment on how society tends to view people who are incarcerated.

    How is Portland treating you? My girlfriend and I were there over Xmas, and I definitely experienced a certain pang, accompanied by a deep sigh, followed by a certain amount of wistfulness, as we drove along the wet streets once more, heading toward the Alibi for karaoke.

  3. tasteetriceps

    Portland is…amazing. Of course. Which makes it terribly heartbreaking sometimes, as i cannot stay. And unfortunately i don’t get to share its joys with a lover or many fun friends, so i experience the possibilities in mute. Hard time lately. But Portland is fine, fine–as wine girl you know what i’m saying?

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