Please excuse my three week abscence. It may be a little longer until the blog/flickr/etsy thing is back on all cylinders, been busy at work on my soon-to-be life as a Montrealer. This whole thing is alot more difficult than I ever fancied it being...its funny how love can make you braver (or rather, more reckless). The past few weeks have been a barrage of stress and unexpected worries, but I'm not letting it sully my vision. I know where my happiness is and I have faith that things will settle into their appropriate places when the time comes.
Transmissions may be brief, but keep your ears to the ground. I'll be stomping around soon enough.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Do the joy
Goldthwaite, Texas. Population 1801. It went up by 2 points for a couple days though. My best gal-pal and I took the scenic drive into the dead center of Texas to visit Jamè McCraw, an old friend of hers. Now, this wasn't your typical drive down the interstate highway through the copy-paste-copy-paste towns that now dominate the the Southern and Mid-West states. The little towns that we pasted through seemed as if they hadn't been touched by time or technology since the late 50's. No Wal-Mart, no Target, no Starbucks or Baskin Robins. Just some po-dunk ol' gas stations and greasy cafes. In other words it was great. Strange, though, to feel a bit like a foreigner in your own state.
At night the three of us hid behind Jamè's parent's shed to smoke and drink beers. While laying down on the concrete patch and staring at the vastness of the heavens, I felt as if I were suspended at the bottom of a great sphere and was looking out into space rather than laying flat and looking up. Try it next time. Be sure to play some Portishead and have a few drinks in your belly first.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
The good heat.
This is the good heat. The kind of sweat that affirms the relationship between your skin and the giant star burning it's fuel 91 million miles away. Conversation comes easy well after the wine has stopped flowing and the food is no longer being served. Even though the grace period of summer has stepped past its pleasant threshold and has driven deep into the realms of inescapable heat sung to the tune of hundreds of hissing cicadas, we all sweat it out together over our equally as sweaty bottles of cerveza.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
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