Digital Story – 7:07pm (damn broken dates!)

My Digital Story is FINISHED at last! (for now)

I’m posting it over at the Internet Archive, a haven for open-source media of all shapes and sizes.
Head on over and have a look-see… be sure to leave your thoughts and reactions here!
Alex’s Digital Story

(You can also watch it right here)

I’m going to try out ccPublisher to post it… check it out

What is it?
CC Publisher is a tool that does two things: it will help you tag your audio and video files with information about your license and it allows you to upload Creative Commons-licensed audio and video works to the Internet Archive for free hosting. You also have the option of publishing the licensed and tagged audio works on your own site.

So, the story itself…
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike2.5 License.

Acknowledgements:
Thank you so much to the following individuals for providing your works for free on the internet with creativity-friendly licenses… Without you this project would have been impossible!

Photos:
the following flickr.com users:
Laughing Squid
Chubby Bat
Grant Neufeld
Cobalt Femme
bjortklingd

Sound Effects: the following freesoundproject.com users:
NoiseCollector
dropthedyle
schluppipuppie

Music: http://derekaudette.ottawaarts.com/music.php

Digital Story v4.1

Digital Story v4.1 Sunday 1:32 pm (since the dates on this cursed blog are so messed up)
I have my Dad’s hands, hands that love to touch and create and build
and rampage.

I lie on the living room floor, legos spread out before me:
a sea of plastic possibilites. I hear their call

I feel it in my hands which seem to move of their own accord: searching, grasping, fitting.

My elbows burn as they sink deeper into the carpet. I feel I have it, this love, this need
to build
order from chaos.
to create. Or at least to try.
Then,
My hands fail, the pieces fly,
I feel the rage come to a boil, screaming through my veins.
I see myself from a distance, knuckles white as bone as they clutch what are now only remnants,
as they macerate.
And my dreams skitter across the room.