erin

flax-golden tales: mightier than the sword

mightier than the sword

There is a movement happening, a quiet one.

A low-profile, low-resolution revolution.

Comprised of writers and dreamers, of guerrilla artists and thought-ninjas.

Those with something to say.

They communicate through text inscribed on true public spaces, rather than blogs and forums.

Choosing fewer words, even without being bound by 140 character limits.

Using ink instead of pixels.

Sending messages in living, breathing space.

Pens scream louder into the void.

Even if permanent ink is not aptly named.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

By erin, ago

5 things for august 5th

  1. Nathan Bransford’s post on  “Lost” and the High Narrative Price of WTF. Nails a lot of my lingering LOST issues.
  2. My new Droid Incredible is my friend. My fancypants friend who confuses me with all its skillz & I’m still learning to type on properly, but I love love love having a phone that does more than make phone calls. Not that I can do much more than make phone calls and tweet on it right now.
  3. I am officially sick of summer and it can be glorious, glorious autumn any time now. Seriously. This humidity can die. The kitten flop-o-meter was off the charts today.
  4. I am, as you probably guessed, still deep in Revisionland. Like, Inception-style multi-level deep. It’s going really, really well, but there’s still a good long ways to go.
  5. I love when, in the midst of researching, I find historical things that walked right out of my imagination, like this House of Worth evening gown, circa 1898-1900.

By erin, ago

flax-golden tales: back in the day

back in the day

My grandmother tells me stories about the way things were when she was young.

Mostly they’re about all the things that I have that she didn’t have, or how things were different. How big the computers were and how phones had wires.

Sometimes she tells stories that her grandmother told her.

Her grandmother lived in a house with a yard. A yard is like a private park, I think.

I wonder what these things looked like, sometimes. I’ve seen pictures, but they’re not the same. I wonder what it would be like to look out a window and see poles and wires that connect conversations.

To see the sunset and the clouds.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

By erin, ago

miscellany for the 29th day of july

Revisionland has destroyed my ability to blog, have you noticed?

Probably because it means I’m typing most of the day, so then when I go to blog my brain thinks “More typing? Can’t we go do yoga or something?” so then I go and drink iced green tea while I think about maybe doing yoga.

So, miscellaneous things that may or may not be of interest to you, dear reader.

  • My very first phone that does more than making phone calls is scheduled to arrive tomorrow. I cannot tell you how happy this makes me. I probably will tell you, actually, in some sort of dedicated phone lust post next week.
  • Zebradonkey. I love his stripey legs.
  • Revising is actually going really well. It’s slow, but since it’s more expanding & adding things than just polishing, I think that’s to be expected. Almost at the halfway mark, I think.
  • This bunny is brilliant and I wants it but I do not have $500 for awesome bunny sculpture, which is tragique.

Yeah, that’s all I’ve got. I’m in nonstop work mode. I saw Inception but I’m incapable of talking about it articulately without babbling and I’m very opinionated about the ending. I have flopsy kittens, which is typical for this time of year. I want it to be autumn, cinnamon-spiced and crisp.

By erin, ago

flax-golden tales: strength in numbers

strength in numbers

The first day there was one paper robot and my little brother said it was an invasion.

I told him one paper robot doesn’t count as a whole invasion. There would have to be like, three, at least, to be an invasion.

The next day there were three paper robots.

“I told you it was an invasion,” he said.

The day after that there were at least a dozen of them, and the day after that there were hundreds.

Hundreds, maybe thousands of little paper robots in all sorts of colors, in different boxy paper shapes, spread out over the sidewalk and the street, covering the subway platform while we waited for the train.

People just ignored them, walking right on them like they were left over confetti from New Year’s or something.

“They shouldn’t do that,” my little brother said. “They’re going to make them mad.”

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

By erin, ago

on comments

I’ve seen a bit of discussion lately about moderating blog comments.

I don’t want to do it, but I have my comments set to moderated for one very simple reason.

I get a lot of spam comments.

I mean, a lot.

As in, I just deleted 50 before I started this post. I feel like I can better manage them if I can let them build up in the moderation queue, rather than worrying that they’re all over the blog already.

Also, this means I might very occasionally miss a real comment in all the junk, my apologies for that.

And it’s getting harder to quickly write things off as junk with a quick glance, too. I don’t know what the comment spammers are trying to accomplish but in between the random links I get things like this:

Who was the most important person you spent time with today? (from “direct buy membership cost”)

That is very sublime stuff. Never new that beliefs could be this varied. Thanks for all the enthusiasm to extend such helpful information at this site. (from “louis vuitton handbags”)

Easily, the post is genuinely the greatest on this deserving topic. I agree with your conclusions and will thirstily look forward to your approaching updates. Saying thanks will not just be enough, for that tremendous clarity in your writing. I will instantly grab your rss feed to stay privy of any updates. Gratifying work and a lot success in your business enterprize! (from “childrens table and chairs”)

Keep at it and your blog will be perfect in the future too!  (from “watch Supernatural”)

Also, The Parrot God wants me to buy accutane. Yeah, I don’t even know.

So that’s why my comments are moderated for now. Maybe if it calms down I’ll start leaving them unmoderated again. Maybe.

By erin, ago