THE TYPEWRITER PROJECT
Letter to the ,man i will always love i want you to know that the love will alwys be there despitethe fact
that willingly we willnever be butour two hearts will one day cpollid collide to make wonder science. it will teach us morea about what love re
really means. I LOVE YOU RYAN.....
When it comes to getting acceptable grades in school, waiting six monthsfor your favorite video game to be released, understanding who your real
friends are, and studing for the SATs; Xander struggles with figuring out
where in this world he truly belongs.
It has been such a long time since I've touched a typewriter. Strange tothink that I used to work on a typewriter. I worked on a typewriter backin the day when I moved down here and started hanging out in Thomkins Square park. Boy those days were fun. This typewriter and this park are making me feel sentimental about my youth and grateful that I had such a great youth. And grateful that I'm having such a great older adult life too. lost .. or refounded. having a break of what? am i looking for something i never will get? suddenli huge turns to narrow. there s no more space in my head but my heart empty..how can i transfer the void. shift. lift. who
is going to invent an elevator that goes from head to haert and back to head. i am waiting
Xander Rayne
I want to m ove out of the east village but things like this project rem m ind m e how m uch i love this area. i think ill stay here...
For my forth of july I went to Philidelphia to viset my frinds. it raind so aII had to leav the party I was at :( ^ I had so much fun
the house i stayed at had 4 floors . My frinds i viseted a ther names are
Clorisa and her brother Felix (they mooed 10 times) they used to live
on my block:) I live on east 7 st .
^^^^^^^^^^^^^
^yuliana rossi age 9
I am sad that I am not with any of my friends. But I am happy that I am with some of my friends that are from K/pre-K.
-Veronica, 2nd Grade
a memory of the park when many are found sleeping under the trees wrappedin white sheets traced with the memory of the evening a word of poetry shared with others walking on a sunday afternoon i have only a dozen brown eggs and the memory of what the east village was like 30 years ago
a container of fresh basil a dozen eggs a very small ripe tomato a few sugar snaps that are contained in the casing of a bitter memoryi have taken to collecting cucumbers of varying textures that are the talisman of water collections of the soil
Sitting in this little wooden box, typing on this old manual typewriteris not an experience that I have previously had. I enjoy having a squarespace in front of me, and another to my left, encasing the breezey tree branches.
good news cigarette juice! bicycles aare awesome they move so gracefullyhello world # #freeludin death to the well organized mind is but the next great adventure -albus dumbledore poop=+penis=poopypenislleave it to poo
i8 'm very hungover this morning. yesterday was thefourth. of july. i went to a party in brooklyn. williamsburg i think. we had started early, so my
memory is a bit hazy. i met g a girl.
July 5, 2015In the park with Howard Baden...to be continued. Brick is up at camp. I am searching. Good Day.
The park is where I want to mmove my office. It is peaceful but stimum-ulating. However, I need a computer to keep up with my thughts How many
poets have passed this way?
it;s Sunday. Ihave not beeen in this park for yeaars. It is gorgeousI re member the E ast Viillage when it was INSANEE. It is still cool and
gritt y, but safe and comfotrting.
today is theday. i don8t know what to say out loud. now i am intimidatedthank for this day, we don t know where to go now. the end.
july july july july july 2015we took in some theater grabbed an ice cream and found a bench it was a monday evening, peculiar evening for a first date
i felt like a teenager again when he made the move... what am i doing
kissing, giggling, staring at an almoost full moon
the pressure of new york evaporated, if only for a few moments,
fyi this was not a date spawned from a dating app.
it was fully analog, as analog as the typwritter beneath my fingertips
july 5 leaving after 5 days in the city with my brother. now leaving for 6 weeks without my girlfriend. love you all. bye.
July 5thThere is something intimidating about writing this...knowing it will be stored in the open door digital holding room of the intternet... even tho i do this all the time. there is something different in having to put weight into the keys...We watched the fireworks last night- everyone was there looking through their screens. I hated it. Somehow it has become about re- cording every moment rather than actually experienccing it. I wish I was a hacker. I would create a bug that would open in everyone,s camera app- if you looked through the screen for longer than a minute the glitch would pop up a message that simply said "put down your phone and start experiencing your life." that is all.