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Essays 


I'm told that the meeting will start at City Hall at nine. I walk over and run into Marty Pottenger who will arrive tomorrow. I hear she is a carpenter turned into a carpenter/performer/story teller. I look forward to meeting her.

 

I decide to use my video camera to take pictures. The quality is good enough to make images to be sent over the internet. I look up at the landscape and discover telephone lines all over the place. I like that because now we can send pictures of a landscape over those very same lines. What good would the landscape be, if no one could see it? I never thought I could send my photographs over a telephone line. It was hard enough to understand sending my voice, so sending a picture, that is really magical.

 

Now everything I see is miraculous. I run into Dana Atchley performing a ritual of digital representation that brings in the atomic particles of those observing his spectacle. The story he tells on the computer is simultaneous with the world, he sends a signal out to the rest of the planet letting every one know that the times of digital story telling have begun. There is no turning back. There is laughter, but it's a nervous one. We are all scared. No one knows if we will ever be able to tell good stories again. Not even the spoon man.



 

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