Kitannia, rule the box
Kitties really really really like to sleep on socks
— James Thomson
We have now entered, in the words of the only Clive Barker novel I have ever finished, the great gray beast of February. It’s actually quite nice out, and inside seems warmer with less effort than it has in ages.
Here is me in a jaunty scarf covered with jaunty eyeballs.
On Sunday, C and I went to the Portland Art Museum to see (amongst other things) Three Studies of Lucian Freud. It’s very nice, although obviously it suffers somewhat by the inevitable comparison to its subject.
Later in the evening I read Freud’s Wikipedia article, which is really quite remarkable. I had, heretofore, imagined Freud having a more philosophical approach to the beauty of apparently-hideous reality, so I have actually sort of been wrestling with this new information a bit. Not at all what I got from the work itself.
I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but Oui Presse on Hawthorne is my current favorite coffee and languishing spot. They also make really sublime cookies and coffee cake.
The latter is, sadly, less photogenic than the former.
A now-inevitable evening sky. These have just been so great.
So I went on vacation around New Year’s, but I got swine flu (literally, I think) so I didn’t enjoy it very much. It’s a shame, because we spent a week out in Newport, which under better circumstances would have been very nice.
It’s a bit odd starting the new year like this. All that sort of drive that you’re supposed to have to carry you into. . . whatever it is you’re supposed to be carried to for the new year.Instead I’m sort of crawling towards some kind of semblance of normalcy, which isn’t really the same.
Regardless, I’m making some effort to figure out what this one’s going to be about. We’ll see how it turns out.
I guess this has been going on for a while. I mean, I haven’t lived by a rail yard in like four years now.
I went up to St. John’s on Saturday to take pictures of the bridge.
This one speaks to man’s inhumanity to man.
More amazing bleak sky:
Some jolly trailers for contrast:
Cat on the keyboard:
The sky has been pretty intense lately. Here’s how it was just before things started going dim today.
These are from earlier in the week when it looked a bit like the end of the world.
So as you know I am the sort of person who, left to their own devices, will take about 3 showers per day during the summer. Lest you think that this is the sort of indolent shit a fellow gets up to when he works from home, I’ll have you know that when I was in the business my summer shower regimen ran to three instances before heading in to work. The point is, however, than today I 1) had neglected to shower immediately before bed and 2) had laundry to do, so I waited until I had clean clothes. When I finally managed to ablute myself it was seriously the most remarkable experience I’ve had in recent memory. The message here is that I’m totally right about everything.
So I watched The China Syndrome last night. It was. . . not particularly good, but like every movie that I watch, it highlighted how lousy movies coming out these days tend to be. It was marvelous, for example, to not have every single dramatic line delivered in front of a screeching orchestral score. I mean, I like musical melodrama as much as the next guy, but if something important is happening, maybe the audience can pick it up from context.
A picture of my dream house: