This abandoned typewriter in Brontes speaks to man’s inhumanity to man.
In retrospect, I’m sort of sad that I didn’t take more pictures of it.
Man’s inhumanity to man aside, the coolest place we visited was probably Simiane la Rotonde, so called for its incredibly scenic old fortification.
Here are some (I’m fairly certain) non-funerary cairns in a field behind our villa.
Here are my feet on their way out of the countryside.
These Parisian benches, each possessing something the other lacks, speak to man’s inhumanity to man.
So it’s 4ish on my first day galavanting around Paris. I’ve been back since 2, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do later. I should almost certainly propel myself out into things again, but it is awfully nice just sort of lounging around here.
I woke up around 6, which is a little better than I was doing in the south and went out for delicious pastries. So fortified, I walked along the Seine to the Paris Museum of Modern Art, where I experienced the sublime.
Strong showing, right?
Here is C looking extremely glamorous at Holocene.
Here are C and I posing for our the cover of our as-yet-unrecorded (or conceptualized or even discussed) album cover at Holocene.
Here I am on Hawthorne having purchased a festive little hat for sipping rose under when I jet off to France on Thursday. Let’s hope it isn’t stolen from me by a swarm of loathsome flies as the last hat I took to France was.
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.
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.
I never write here any more. Here are some pictures.
So this is my first stab at using the included media uploads and not using Flickr, which despite my devotion that extended way past its sell-by date has become useless to me. Of course, the default WordPress mechanism for handling this stuff is pretty awful too. I guess it’s time to break out the tinfoil hat and figure out some kind of roll-your-own. Balls.