Sufjan's a Stinkin' Genius

Sufjan Stevens is a creative genius. His latest venture is a Christmas song contest. Here's the scoop: His fans write and record a Christmas song, send it to him, and the one he likes the most wins. The grand prize is a song swap. He gets the rights to your song, but he then writes a Christmas song just for you, and you get the rights to it. Granted, he's going to get more money for your song than you will for his, but art isn't about money, it's about saying, "Sufjan picked my song, chumps!!"
I just entered a song I wrote last year about this time. Needless to say, we needn't expect to see "Sleep Now" on any upcoming Sufjan Stevens projects.

Jon, what have you done to me?

Have you ever had one of those dreams from which you awaken thrilled because you've just received great news only to find out it was the deceptive product of your subconscious?
Some background:
As I've worked on my thesis I've received a great deal of insight and encouragement from my friend Jon Kever, who has recently completed the rigorous process. In his retelling of his own story he related a dream he had had wherein he received a scathing review from Dr. Kreider telling him he had too may footnotes.
Last night I dreamed that upon reading my first two chapters, Dr. Bingham, excited to be in the presence of true genius, replied that he loved the work, but that his only improvement would be that I use the word "is" in its various forms more often in my footnotes. His explanation was that this would somehow make the footnotes (to be) more gender inclusive.
Needless to say this was a huge relief...a sense of relief that would be irreparably rent asunder by the bone-chilling sound of the alarm clock.
Jon, what have you done to me?

Memories

I write this from one of my favorite places in the world--camp. I've found that "camp" has special meaning to everyone whether you grew up going to a woodsy retreat with log style cabins, ziplines, and go carts; or your camp was a patch of rolling grass-covered hills cut into the rich agricultural lanscape of middle America. Regardless of the amenities, camp is a place full of tradition and strong relationships. As I write, people are walking through this assembly room planing how to "get back" at others who have pulled a prank on them. A male staff member walks by with his hair up in braids. Nicknames abound and the sound of screaming kids seems almost like white noise filling the air creating that perfect(?) camp ambience. Ahhh. It's good to be back.

A Sad State of Affairs

This blog has hit rock bottom. It's been idle so long all of the comments were deleted. And, no this is not a promise to redeem it. I can promise no such thing. All I can do is mourn it's sorry condition, and hope for a better future.