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Painlevé steeped in uncanny, where is my wit?
I am struck by an all too familiar malaise ( Read more... ) -
And all of a sudden...
I am spinning and spinning ( Read more... ) -
No prettier sight than looking back at a town you've left behind...
If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief,
Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts
Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,
and these my exhortations!
-Wordsworth, Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern AbbeySo looks like the Fulbright's out for next year, but ( Read more... ) -
...makes me grow really high, really high, like a really tall thing, say a sunflower
Things that saved this week from the brink of oblivion:
1) ultimate frisbee
it had been too damn long
2) the arrival of Cole Swenson's Book of a Hundred Hands
just in time
ex:
THE MECHANICS OF THE HAND ( Read more... )
