Playing around with the unfortunately named LiceCap. I have messed about with it before, but I don’t remember it being so dead easy to use. Thanks to Aaron Davis for the reminder.
I copied a short story I wrote for Mastodon’s #shortstories hashtag and then pasted it into iWriter, my no-frills writing space. I captured it with Licecap as I edited live with one take. Licecap generated the gif automatically. Here it is:
Sorry that the type is so small. I can see using this as a way to demonstrate revision in poetry, how idiosyncratic it is, how shallow it often is, how much deeper it needs to be.
If you click on the gif it is much bigger and you can see how much the cursor jinks and janks across the page. I was not aware of how much I did this. It is not just a nervous tic, but a reflection of something going on elsewhere in my mind. At least it seems that way. Fruitful research here on mouse/mind behavior? I wonder if it parallels the jittering of the eye, the saccades.
In the embed below are some selected short stories and poems I have written this summer. They rose out of the decentralized social media platform, Mastodon. I enjoyed and continue to relish the opportunity to ‘collaborate’ and share with others there.
Kevin suggested a poetry link from the NYTimes on poets annotating their own poems. I wish more poets would do this as well as open up their poems to social annotation. Can you imagine the conversations that might emerge? I can. Below is the poem I chose:
I took one of the images in the story and, using Diigo’s very simple screenshot annotation tool, marked up what the poets had marked. It was an annotation of the conversation the poet held with himself. Think of it as call and response. If you are a human being you can do this. No fancy skills needed.
This work inspired a #smallstory in my Mastodon account.
This post is the breadcrumb. And imagine that we are all laying down breadcrumbs for each other. Eat them while they are fresh. Of maybe a better comparison is a doodle that one person passes to another until, like the game of telephone, the message is transformed. Utterly.