?

Log in

The Image Collector [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
The Image Collector

[ website | David Scott Moyer ]
[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

(no subject) [Apr. 10th, 2017|05:12 am]
The Image Collector
Link1 comment|Leave a comment

New User Agreement [Apr. 8th, 2017|08:43 pm]
The Image Collector
What do you think?
Link2 comments|Leave a comment

Yesterday's writing challenge: Open For Business [Aug. 23rd, 2015|05:40 am]
The Image Collector
Each of us wrote down a single sentence on a piece of paper and put it in a hat, then a title on another piece and put that in a hat. We had to write a piece corresponding to the title we drew and using the sentence we drew. The sentence I drew is in bold.

Open For Business
She had never been the pretty one, always the clever one. The other girls flocked around the cheerleaders, but when the quarterback needed help with his science homework, it was her that he came to. Soon all the jocks were using her as a tutor. She charged them $10 an hour, except for the quarterback. He was her boyfriend. She, the plainest girl in class, had the cutest boyfriend. Sometimes, while struggling to explain something to him, she was reminded of that line from My Fair Lady: "The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain." She loved the rain.
LinkLeave a comment

Ruminations Of An Imaginary Candidate [Aug. 12th, 2015|07:49 pm]
The Image Collector
A saxophone is just a giant Kazoo with keys and a reed. Having no idea why that thought had surfaced in his awareness, he pushed it down and continued working the crowd, "genuine" smile contorting his features, palms coated in antiperspirant. Grip firm, but not too firm. Don't look at the tits, don't think about that ass. Don't spend any more time with the cute young thing than with anyone else.60 feet from the door to the stage. After that, it's just script. Oh, shit, it's Monica. How did she get up front? This is going to come back to bite me in the ass for sure.
LinkLeave a comment

Pumpkin Moon [Aug. 10th, 2015|05:36 pm]
The Image Collector
It was the year that Richard Nixon took office, proving that we would indeed have him to kick around some more. It was also the year which began the gay rights movement with the Stonewall Riots in NYC, as brave men and women refused to countenance police harassment any more. It was the year when the Soviet Union, the United States, and 100 other countries collectively realized that they were on an insane, self-destructive path and signed the Nuclear Nonproliferation treaty. And, that year, three men achieved the impossible, leaving the Earth and landing on the Moon. I remember watching it that July on our round cornered console TV in the family room. It was also the year when a single adventurous pumpkin plant sent its tendrils through the garden fence into the neighbors yard and skyward into a tree, where it produced a giant pumpkin and skyrocketed an 11 year old boy to brief fame on the front page of the Montclair Times.

Link3 comments|Leave a comment

From The Point Of View Of An Inanimate Object [Aug. 9th, 2015|10:39 am]
The Image Collector
I still remember when I first saw the light. We were all cozily nestled together, heads down and butts up, not saying anything to each other, just comfortable in our identical nature and secure space. Then we were lifted and jostled about briefly. Then we were slammed suddenly and violently against something, slamming our butts into the ceiling. I heard a tearing sound from above, and suddenly light filtered down between my brothers and I saw them for the first time. White, slender, and perfect. We were upended again and percussively banged against something large and pink. I felt myself sliding against my brothers, little by little, until I could feel a breeze against my butt. Then the pink thing grabbed me by the butt and yanked me out into the open air. It was overwhelming, so much sensory input all at once, as I rose into the sky, a giant apparition of pink and brown silhouetted against bright blue, with all sorts of sounds and smells. Then, as suddenly as I had been removed, I was pushed back into my home, but upside down? I couldn't see or hear my brothers any more. The loneliness was devastating. I wanted to share my fantastic, if brief, adventure with them, but my head was jammed in between their butts. Little did I know the horror I was to experience over the next several hours. When the first of my brothers was pulled out from his space alongside me, I was overjoyed. Finally I would have someone to talk to. Instead of turning him over and putting him down, however, The pink thing lifted him up to a giant red hole ringed with sharp white things and lit him on fire! I had to watch in horror as my brother was burned alive, his screams filling the air. I watched this happen 18 more times, as one by one, my brothers were burned and consumed by the giant pink apparition. Some might have called me the lucky one, to have survived so long, but when I was finally the only one left, I was eager for the oblivion of fire and smoke.
LinkLeave a comment

Chess And Other Games. [Aug. 8th, 2015|03:25 pm]
The Image Collector
I had my ego handed to me three times this afternoon over a chess board. There is something especially humbling about being beaten at a game which involves no luck.

Most popular games involve at least some luck, so that, regardless of ability, anyone has a chance of winning. As kids we learn games which are almost completely luck, requiring no input from the player at all, other than recognizing the cards in one's hand, for example. Any game wherein one rolls the dice and moves around the board to a fixed end is pure luck. It's fun, frustrating, and exhilarating without reflecting positively or negatively on the players. The game of War, in which a deck of cards is divided evenly and each player flips cards one at a time with the high card winning, is another good example.

As we get older, we are introduced to games which involve memory, like Concentration or Go Fish, but even then there is no strategy involved, and luck plays a dominant role.

At some point, maybe at age 5 or 7, we start playing games where we actually have to make decisions which affect the outcome. These games are still dependent upon luck, whether it be the roll of the dice in Backgammon or the cards dealt in hearts or spades. Usually we are introduced to simple skill based games at this point, like Checkers or Othello. These games are still relatively quick and fun, and since most young kids don't focus, the possibility of one's opponent making a mistake adds the illusion of an element of luck.

It is the introduction of more serious, complex skill based games such as Chess, or Go which narrows the field considerably, not so much by intelligence or aptitude as by persistence and attitude. My dad taught me to play chess when I was seven. I first beat him when I was 15. That is an eight year losing streak. Many children simply move on to other things, because they don't find the seemingly unbeatable challenge entertaining. My dad stopped playing me much after I beat him, and I had a hard time finding many opponents until I moved to Tucson in 1983.

One of my first roommates was married to an Irani, and he and his friends were among the best players I have ever met. We would meet on the weekend, and all eight of us would each play all of the others. I was soundly beaten by all of them at first, but over time was able to hold my own and even occasionally beat the best of them. To this day, I prefer to play someone who beats me, because I learn when I lose.

Now, a bit about the game of Go. I find this game particularly fascinating and challenging because it is at once so very simple – players place black and white M&M sized pieces on a grid, removing their opponent's pieces when they can surround them, vying for territory – and baffling. I find my ability growing the more I play, but, unlike chess, I am unable to pinpoint the reasons why I win or lose a game. I can't even adequately describe it here. It is as if the mode of thinking required is so alien – the game originated in Japan – that my Western brain cannot grok it. There is a system of handicaps in Go. For every ten points that one loses by, one can place one piece on the board in advance of the next game, up to 9. I have been severely trounced by someone even though I had nine handicap points up front. He told me that, in the Go club he belongs to, there is another player who beats him with 25 handicap points! This is unfathomable to me. That many pieces on the board at the beginning seems unstoppable, as if, in a game of chess, one could make 10 moves before the other person started.

How can a game with such a simple premise encompass such a wide range of ability? How can there be so much more to learn about a game which, unlike chess, only has one type of piece, and one way to play it?
Link2 comments|Leave a comment

More New Farbels [Feb. 26th, 2015|06:29 pm]
The Image Collector
2sm

39" dia. $1800 SOLD!
Link11 comments|Leave a comment

So I got "new" typewriter... [Jan. 31st, 2015|02:46 pm]
The Image Collector
and decided to do the latest writing assignment on it:

P1019389sm

P1019387sm

P1019388sm

I apologize for the quality. I couldn't find the delete key, and the spell check didn't work.
Link5 comments|Leave a comment

How I ended up here, and where i met a bunch of you... [Dec. 9th, 2014|08:43 pm]
The Image Collector
anarchy
Link3 comments|Leave a comment

navigation
[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]