I have wronged the blogosphere!

I am so sorry people in blogland. (Yes, I plan to put the word blog in random word mash-ups.) I've forsaken the bloglaw of first posting here. I posted something on my Facebook before bloggerized it here. In fact I posted a couple things there first. Woe is me! I will bloggate these events as soon as possible. One of them is what I like to call my Digital Transition. The other is a chronicling of a fun trip into California. Well fellow Bloggites I will blog you later. Also, what have I written?

Doodle.

Doodle.

Snow settles in March.

I could be pretty pissed off about what happened. (20 points to whoever tells me what that references) But I guess you can't really be angry when the thing you're trying to be mad at is white, fluffy and joy-filled. I was looking forward to warmth though.

Funny story about these photos. Some of the ones of the quad were taken from the balcony of Morrill Hall. Funny thing about that is I walked out onto the balcony (and I never forget this) and i forgot to prop the door open. So it closed and locked behind me. So I'm standing out, in the cold, stranded on a balcony, collecting snow. So I take pictures.

Rain.

Such a pretty world.

Update on projects.

Ghosts of Campus

There's something rich and intoxicating about the University of Nevada campus. A definite sense of history and tradition that I've begun to cultivate. There are ghosts on campus. Not spooky beings, but ideas that linger. Ideas that have crept into the cracks. Ideas that sing words to the student sighing on the lawn,

mackay, life, respect, love, drinking, bells, houses, laughter, students, books, events, clubs, class

Words that have meant something for generations. Words that echo with each semester and never grow faint. So loud are these echoes that they seem new each time. But beneath these are the lower echoes. The ones that need to be helped back into our lives. Words that need to be said again and again, yelled if need should arise to bring them back from beneath.

These are whispered to the student sighing on the lawn,

secrets, paths, tunnels, sundown, involvement, tradition, history, pride

Help me say these words. Help me bring back the echoes of our great university.

Cracks.

Splintered under intense heat. Asphalt, black as obsidian. Nightfall. Gentle rain. A softer feel.