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Minor Regrets
I didn't save the cocktail napkin from the Red Fox Room and I didn't save the receipt from Bice. On the other hand, there are photos from the hike and a giant piece of a dead tree is in the back seat of my car. Perhaps most importantly, introductions were made. Ineffable mysteries abound.
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(Untitled)
"Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas." Except that when I woke up this morning, I was in San Francisco. Here is what I now remember of the dreams: there is a picnic table in a forest, in a ravine with a creek. Fallen leaves all over the ground; not muddy but wet. My wallet on the ground, the twenties gone but fives and ones there. ( Read more... ) -
Scenery
Some (boutique, of course) bankers threw a party at an art gallery on Julia Street. I showed up in cufflinks and corduroy jacket. The wine was OK, the conversation wasn't half bad. Later Chris and I had dinner at the Four Seasons. As we were walking out, there was a conservatively-suited young white male almost-but-so-not-quite making out with a ( Read more... ) -
Cleaning
I purchased a Panasonic DMC-FX48 a few years ago for it's compact size and very wide angle lens. The pictures it produced were generally better than expected and it continued faithful service until about 6 months ago when a big piece of dust (a string, maybe) found it's way onto the sensor. This Christmas, however, I found a tutorial for cleaning ( Read more... ) -
2011
I wish I had something dramatic to say or, perhaps more realistically, some kind of transform to apply to my experience that rendered it meaningful for the viewer. I was hired at my first "adult" job. I fell in love and had some heartbreak. Washed my car a lot, drank a lot of tea, learned to be more social with my friends. Resolutions for 2012:- ( Read more... )
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You Are Tired (I Think)
You are tired ( Read more... ) -
Tiresome
I'm tired too. I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms and me in yours once more.
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(Untitled)
A sudden memory: sitting at the smog testing shop (maybe 2 years ago) while my old Acura was put through the wringer, drinking stale coffee from the complementary coffee pot, reading "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle". It was around 9 in the morning.
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What a cunning way to condescend.
I thought "man, I really can't remember anything, can I?" when suddenly I was struck by the feeling of contact between the skin of my hands and arms and the skin of her back and torso. A shiver started in my chest and blew outward.
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I can't remember anything.
I remember a movie, or maybe it was just an advertisement that in my memory is epic and longer than in reality. A man is sitting, his head shaved, his face expressionless, and he is gazing forward as he sits. Some kind of music plays, something moderately paced and not super epic with things crashing in and out but lots of changes overlapping so ( Read more... )