Dream of the Dragon

Category: Inspiration

September 15, 2011

Wolf-stink

by Justin

My dog rolled in something dead. He chewed at it first, then slammed his face into the earth and became eight shades of filthy. He also kissed me immediately afterwards, sharing that terrific death-laced breath. And maybe some secret disease of rot – who can know?

As much as I wish he didn’t get down like that, those moments of pure instinct are gems. Dogs tread the line between the wild and the distinctly human, hard-wired to love man desperately and then dive head-first into some other beast’s filth. I wish I obeyed instincts as easily as I obeyed my rational mind. Dogs are thresholders. Read the rest of this entry »

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September 10, 2011

Blood Work: Recycled Art

by Justin

Through a self-invented process, I suspend, encase, and permanently preserve animal blood, salvaged from slaughterhouses, in plexiglass and UV resin. This technique is designed to retain the blood’s natural colors and textures and to expose its finite details. When lit, the works become more translucent, cast shadows, and project a glow onto the wall behind them. This effect reveals multiple layers of organic material floating in clear resin and makes the works appear as if they are illuminated from the inside.

-from artist Jordan Eagles’ website

This guy’s process evolved out of a fascination with blood. Most thrilling/unsettling: using the blood itself as a light filter, casting everything in the glow of slaughterhouse waste. He even uses old-school overhead projectors to achieve the effect. Read the rest of this entry »

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September 8, 2011

Atomic Speak (Kimota)

by Justin

This made every meal an ordeal for Dirac: he had no talent for languages, and his father was an unforgiving teacher. Whenever Dirac made a slip – a mispronunciation, a wrongly gendered noun, a botched subjunctive – his father made it a rule to refuse his next request. This caused the young Dirac terrible distress. Even at that time, he had digestive problems and often felt sick when he was eating, but his father would refuse him permission to leave the table if he made a linguistic error. Dirac would then have no option but to sit still and vomit. This did not happen just occasionally, but over and over again, for years.

-from The Strangest Man: The Secret Life of Paul Dirac, Mystic of the Atom

I was/am working on a piece about the final collisions at the Tevatron, the premiere atom smasher in this country. That sprawling beast of a story, about the history and legacy of the sprawling underground beast that is the Tevatron, dominated the past three months. Particle physics is a lovely and dangerous subject for writers. Read the rest of this entry »

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