i woke up to find two mourning doves sitting on my window sill.
i watched them for a while with my bare feet curled up underneath me.  it was chilly.
then i stretched and started my day.

i looked at a word today and read it in two other languages before i read it in english.

hearing the word "sex" while listening to two men arguing in punjabi is absurd.

stolen from
( Read more... )

as though i wasn't already obsessed with sufjan stevens:

"Pitchfork: I wanted to ask you about the "Lord God Bird" project you did for NPR, and how that came about. Were you approached by the documentarians?

Sufjan: Yeah, the writers were interested in doing a project with me, and they didn't have any particular story yet. They just wanted to do ( Read more... )

i am sick.
and i wish you were here.

my objects dream and wear new costumes,
compelled to, it seems, by all the words in my hands
and the sea that bangs in my throat.

Boots of Spanish Leather
Bob Dylan

Oh, I'm sailin' away my own true love,
I'm sailin' away in the morning.
Is there something I can send you from across the sea,
From the place that I'll be landing?

No, there's nothin' you can send me, my own true love,
There's nothin' I wish to be ownin'.
Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled,
From across that ( Read more... )

Requiem for O.M.M.2
Of Montreal

When I met you I was just a kid
hadn’t built up my defenses
so I gave my heart completely
vaseline over the lenses
memories don’t go away
I remember every day
I never ever stop wondering
Wondering if you still think of us
I don’t need a photograph
cause you’ve never left my mind
No you’ve never ( Read more... )

To the Harbormaster
Frank O'Hara

I wanted to be sure to reach you;
though my ship was on the way it got caught
in some moorings. I am always tying up
and then deciding to depart. In storms and
at sunset, with the metallic coils of the tide
around my fathomless arms, I am unable
to understand the forms of my vanity
or I am hard alee with my Polish rudder
in ( Read more... )

thinking lots tonight.
felt like going old school and reading some e.e. cummings.

... believe me that strangers arrive
when i have kissed you into a memory
slowly, oh seriously
--that since and if you disappear

solemnly
myselves
ask "life, the question how do i drink dream smile

and how do i prefer this face to another and
why do i weep eat sleep--what ( Read more... )

so...the past less-than-a-week has been eventful and rather wonderful.  i have taken many, many photographs (all well called-for, obviously), and others have taken many, many photographs (with my camera) as well.  i suppose this is all to explain the reason why this entry will be too long, and yet  remain only the tip of the iceberg. 
i don't have ( Read more... )