Markre de Sol: Behind the Ramparts and Dreaming

One man's quest to articulate the grunts and gurgles of modern life.

Name:
Location: Chicagrocrag, IL, Fiji

I got like, this big, big stick of gum. I chew it a little bit at a time, because I wanna savor it.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Eccentric artist does taxes left-handed

Fergie-Fergs,

Alone this weekend. I am. Mein leiben is out of state. This means that I have hours upon hours of time to dwell, brood, and marinate in my own juices. Getting restless. Reh!

Had ein Kafelunchen with Futurist T today. She clued me in to a short play/sketch festival going on in June so I have spent the afternoon/evening committing my recent idea for a solo show (tentatively titled "Zombies!(and also Giant Robots)") to paper (well computer-code). FAT.

The story is about a guy named Walter Roi who builds a giant robot to escape his unhappy marriage. He names the robot Rudy Giuliani.

Some ideas for new stop motions are also poking their amorphous eye-stalks into the backwaters of my mind. More on those as they become realized.

Start wearing purple, wearing purple. Wearing purple for me now.

ESSEN MEIN GAMSPATEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

As I read this I begin to think: "Good lord, he's finally lost it for good this time." Maybe it's actually working for the man that has driven completely off the deep end of some frightening German cliffside. But upon further examination I realize that hidden amongst the ranting are two words that so embody Mark that I know he's still there..."Roi" (ala Ubu) and "Zombie". Therefore, I know you are still in there some where. Perhaps you should listen to a little "Final Countdown" and that will calm you down. :)

7:44 PM  

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