Jung Team.

In the 'olden days,' when a man was traveling and might encounter a mutual friend, another man might say 'Remember me to Jim,' or something along those lines. The closest thing we have today is when you log on to web-based email and the service gives you an option to save the password on the machine you are using, inviting you to 'Remember me.'

The collective unconscious of Jung, the idea that we have shared memories as a race left over from prehistory such as 'Stay away from fire; its real hot' has been replaced with a collective web-based unconscious. The Web is now the depository of the great Mental Canon of Humanity, receiving all (or most) thought, cataloguing and making available information to interested parties.

A website called archive.org (correct me in a comment if the url is flubbed) is dedicated to archiving all web content. Not simply providing a searchable database of sites like a search engine, but a full archive of all web content. Ever. These thorough, sainted souls 'take a picture' of the web regularly, archiving all content and storing it on (massive) servers Somewhere in Idaho. So if you need to see what was on a given site in 1999, even if that site is in the Binary Scrapheap, all you need to do is look to these people and hope they Got It.

Somewhere, Carl Gustav Jung is happy.

paint.

I got out the brushes and dusted off the various other tools and painted for the first time since october or so of last year. It felt great. Word of advice though: when working on rather thin paperboard, listen to the manufacturer's advice regarding which materials are best suited to their product. The way I saw it, a board designed for marker renderings, watercolors (watercolours in Britain), and the like should be fine for acrylics heavily applied.

Wrong.

The paint was not even close to dry when the board began to dramatically buckle outwards. To counter this, I placed the leg of a chair on each edge where the buckle came up, obviously careful to avoid areas I had painted. I left it this way overnight and will continue to leave the chairs where they are until I am convinced my painting will buckle no more.

Photos!

Bear with me, but I have created an account at thirdwind.fotopages.com to serve as a photo weblog. I will post here when there are actual photos on the site.

Photos? Damn it! No photos.

OK, so there will be no photos on this weblog. Unless someone gives me some free server space on which to host them... I am looking into setting up a photo weblog, which is like a regular weblog, but photos, you know? Once that is up and running, I will link to it here regularly and gratuitously in order to boost my standing with Google. I may even be able to link to those photos themselves, so that selected teasers can appear in these pages. Please stay tuned.

Welcome.

I got to travel to Maine this past weekend; my first time spent away from Boston in months was for the wedding of my friend MS. I think I went to New York in november or december; its been so long I don't remember. A great time was had by all; there was much rejoicing, and it was good.

So I am starting this weblog... I'm not sure what I'll be saying here, which is why for a description, I simply explained thirdwind, which is a name I've been using as a catchall for work I've done since about 1998. I am a musician and a photographer right now, but sometimes I describe myself as a photographer and a musician. I've also, at times in the past, written poetry and painted pictures. I guess I'm a Rambling Artist. My friend ESM thinks I have an Artistic Arrogance, and I tend to agree. I've never let my near-total lack of formal training prevent me from trying a new project. I frequently fail. There are two Very Important Maxims in life (there are many more, but let's not lose focus): failure is always an opportunity to gain new insight and increased knowledge, and if you can't do something well, learn to enjoy doing it poorly.

I enjoy my art.

(Look forward to postings of my work as soon as I can figure out how to do it.)

I guess I will figure all of this out as I go along, much like MS and his new bride M.