Tuesday, November 2, 2010

My Latest Speech

I don't know if anybody ever uses this blog anymore, but I figured I'd make one last post.

I love public speaking. In fact, I'd love to make it my full time job if at all possible. Recently, I had the privilege of giving the keynote speech at the 2010 Delaware Youth for Christ banquet. If you'd like to see it, just click the below link. I hope you like what you hear.

http://delawaretv.com/yfc_sean_curran.html

Best,
Sean

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Guest blog up

Hey guys, I have a new guest blog up at

DALLAS PENN dot COMM...

SNEAKER FIENDS UNITE!

I present to you, in depth, a photographic essay on the "Samurai Pack" AKA Decepticon/Megatron Air Force III Highs...

Friday, March 28, 2008

Greetings from Brazilland :)


My name is Rodrigo but everybody know me as Sid.
First of all thanks Justin Weber and all the young explorers society for this dangerous invite :)

I've been working at www.sant.at since 2005(they started in 2005 too) doing some motion graphics. I'm the only guy on the crew doing 2D motion graphics so all the 2D parts were made by me. And lately i've been doing some draws(since I met Justin Weber at the World Yo-yo Contest, he motivated me a lot).

You can check my draws and pictures at my flickr
http://flickr.com/photos/seedees/

Sorry for my silly english and thanks again for the invite :)

Friday, March 14, 2008

Where's Brett?

I've just been wondering, where's Brett in cyberspace right now? I think he should post some photos, a journal entry, etcetera, from his trip to Dubai so far. I'd like to know what kind of adventures he's having. I guess I just miss him. It's true, I do. Where is Brett, what has he been doing overseas, and why hasn't he posted anything here yet?

Sunday, February 3, 2008

Short Story II: Turn 350

I wanted to write something, so i sat down for an hour and came up with this. Enjoy.


Yesterday is was sunny, and yesterday was sunday. But today was monday, and it was over cast and grey. Mondays are normally awful. They're work days. Mondays lasted longer than any other day. And Randy thought today would be worse than normal, but he thought that every monday morning. Today wouldn't be better than yesterday thats for sure, but tomorrow would be better than today. Where did that leave him? Right now in the thick of it. So he got out of bed, shaved in the pale light, and grabbed a cheese danish for breakfast on his way to work.

He parked on the back as he always does. After putting his bagged lunch in the fridge, set out across the lawn to the shed. He didn't talk to anyone, because there was no one to talk to. He unlocked the shed. Randy wasted no time looking around. He'd done this before and he'd do it again.

Randy often thought about quitting, but on tuesday he forgot all about that. Today, he didn't think about quitting either. His only thoughts were on the rusty, red lawn mower. He checked the gas and filled it up. He made his routine second check of the gas and oil levels. Everything else seemed fine. Come on quitting time, he muttered his monday morning prayer.

Over the expanse the green grass was met by the pale grey sky, and he drove on. The humming engine muted all other sounds. The vibrations soothed him and he settled in for the long haul. He made his turns, right, left, left, right. He counted the 379 turns till he was done mowing for 2 years now. It was a maze. He drove it the same exact way every monday.

On turn 32, he'd see Mrs. Greenwood. He'd wave. She never waved back. She was old and rich. Her place was made mainly out of marble and had decorative etchings all over it. In middle of 42 and 43, he'd see little Joey Packstorm. He was seven. Joey like riding his biking in the street in front of his house. At 104, Dr. Forrest's place. The doc loved smoking his pipe. Mrs. Grendal's place was at turn 207. She talked and flirted with all the young men. She wore white cotton dresses all summer long. However, her husband flirted with the bottle and talked with his hands.

Turn 350 was why he dreaded mondays. It was weird. When he would pass, he'd slow the lawn mower down and just stare out at him. He reminded Randy of his mom death for some reason. All he could remember from her death was the stale coffee served at the reception. She loved her coffee and she would have been so pissed if she knew about it. He could just hear her say something like, you serve this piss to honor my death.

Randy knew that he wasn't himself he was looking at himself, but it felt so strange. They had the same name. They weren't the same, but turn 350 always made him think of his life, his mom, all the drugs, the 7 years he'd done in jail for robbing the gas station, and his future death. The thought of death didn't scare him. The thought of what would be said about him after he died, that scared him. What would they say? Would there even be anyone to say it? The rest of the week he could forget, but turn 350 forced him to think about it. and it wasn't a pleasant thought.

He made his final turn and headed back to the shed. Randy carefully drove the lawn mower into the shed, made sure everything was in its place, and then lock it up. He went to the kitchen and ate his lunch. He finished out the day watering some plants, spreading some fertilizer on a dying garden bed, and finally pruning an apple tree. Come on quitting time. It now was quitting time.

He walked out the front door, and noticed the paint was chipping on the iron fence that surround the place. He'd have to paint that tomorrow. After taking one final looked back across his grass where he worked every monday morning, he locked the iron fence behind him as he left. He noticed the letters on the front sign would probably due for another layer of paint tomorrow as well. He wanted to treat this job with much respect. It was his first job out of prison. it had kept him off the street, and out of trouble. His job at East View Cemetery had saved him.


Paul

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Friday, January 11, 2008

Elany Arts Soccer



this was just thrown together and is supposed to be a teaser, leave you wanting more. more to come later.\
look for me around 1 min, i'm number 7.
oh btw this is by aaron whitehead
paul

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

You Scream

Ice Cream You Scream - Threadless, Best T-shirts Ever

I finally got around to submitting this.

Cheers,
Paul

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Christmas poem for my wife

Hi Guys! I know I haven't posted in a while, but I've been here, enjoying your art. Here's a little literary art I recently composed for my wife.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Your husband was stirring with thoughts of his spouse.
My musings were hung 'round my mind with care,
In hopes that revelation soon would be there.

Aidan was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of trains danced in his head.
And you in your "sweats", and with Flyers on my cap,
We'd just settled down for a long winter’s nap.

When inside of my mind there arose such a clatter,
I needed to find just what was the matter.
Reminders of verse flew to me like a flash,
And I started to pray to avoid a big crash.

The moon on the best of all women I know
Gave the luster of mid-day to your face below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But your beautiful smile, filling me with great cheer.

With a little old chuckle, so lively and quick,
I knew yet again, you must be God's pick.
More rapid than eagles my praises now came,
And I sang, and shouted, and called Him by name!

Thank God, Thank Jesus, Thank You Holy Spirit
Your name is so mighty; let no one smear it.
You've given me Tracy, the best of them all,
And dashed away, dashed away doubts when I call.