"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone."
Avid collector of dust.
String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
I have just finished reading the first chapter of Donna Tartt's The Secret History, and... woah. The rhythm of it, the relentless cadence, the subtle and sublime mixing with the mud of reality, the sheer *style*. Another dawning of what prose could be upon the caverns of my cortex. I wonder how the path will lead to what the prologue foretold from here.
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
endless forms are being and will be emergent
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
Today, I have made the first full orbit around our webring! Since joining, I have sat down on occasion to take a look at a few more sites, it has become a sweet pastime.
It has been *thoroughly* refreshing for my brain to soak in the creativity and humanity these spaces are built with. In some of them, it was like I could feel mine being restored in real time. Thank you all. Even if these spaces are virtual, they are an imprint of what could be possible in the physical.
Keep on building, people! ⁂
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
"The high sun burns through your skin, the low moon chills you to the bone." Avid collector of dust. String wrangler, insane toymaker and wannabe explorer of the turing tarpit.
After spending so long agonizing over electrical/mechanical design and winding custom coils, the polyphonic pickup takes material form at last!
In this one, I try to go into detail on the circuit, the board layout and the assembly. Bon appétit.