mood: desperate for sunlight
it is still winter, it is still snowing, time has stopped turning, turned still. and we're growing brave, more foolish; resentful of our heavy coats and inhibitions. you smear your sandwiches thick with dijon, i eat wasabi for dessert. we are railing against ourselves now, my bittersweet. the best of this week: espresso with cinnamon, toasting marshmallows & cheese & anything else on the electric burner, la strada, aaron booth's back stories, sandro botticelli's paganism, 18th century electrical experiments. a gift of homemade truffles from megan (white chocolate with cardamom & ginger; dark chocolate, turkish coffee). thinking about summer & theorizing with conspiracists. a train-track conversation about all our secrets (the things we cannot say). cats with yellow eyes, a half-dozen oranges. cold-weather walks, puddly streets & red shoes. the whole world seems indelible.
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