all summer in a day...
this storm is bradburian in proportion. outside: ink and cheeses. it just keeps raining! flashflood warnings. leaks. and i just gave lola her bath. wet night. i'll try not to forget what the sun looks like. great big ball of burning gas.
i read on the imdb today that yuri norstein was making a film of gogol's the overcoat. but funding ran out. boo! hiss! hmph. i'll keep my fingers crossed in hopes some philanthropic soul will get it going again.
it's raining at the back door, ma. open the front door where it's dry. this is lola's stir-crazy reasoning. back door. front door. back door. front door. perplexed. and ultimately moody. clearly, the fault is mine. mommy dearest over here. i control the deluge. have a perverse need to torment lo and an even more perverse need to be scraped, scratched and nudged by her as she wades out frustration. worse than an antsy kid. those don't have claws or such well developed motorskills.
listened to satie last night to fall asleep. the gnossiennes are my favorite. number three is very haunting. number four, too. but it's good to be haunted now and then, i guess. sure. why not. the gymnopedies are really beautiful. they shouldn't work. that's satie's way. it shouldn't work. but it does. the melodies don't conclude. they reach a point and then they reach a point and then they reach a point and then they reach a point. but they don't seem to set you down smoothly. they step forward and then recede. blue balls. but just so so pretty anyway. and that's why we keep listening. at least, why i keep listening. but what do i know about music theory. not much.
well.
i suppose this is where i awkwardly take my leave. don't watch.
i read on the imdb today that yuri norstein was making a film of gogol's the overcoat. but funding ran out. boo! hiss! hmph. i'll keep my fingers crossed in hopes some philanthropic soul will get it going again.
it's raining at the back door, ma. open the front door where it's dry. this is lola's stir-crazy reasoning. back door. front door. back door. front door. perplexed. and ultimately moody. clearly, the fault is mine. mommy dearest over here. i control the deluge. have a perverse need to torment lo and an even more perverse need to be scraped, scratched and nudged by her as she wades out frustration. worse than an antsy kid. those don't have claws or such well developed motorskills.
listened to satie last night to fall asleep. the gnossiennes are my favorite. number three is very haunting. number four, too. but it's good to be haunted now and then, i guess. sure. why not. the gymnopedies are really beautiful. they shouldn't work. that's satie's way. it shouldn't work. but it does. the melodies don't conclude. they reach a point and then they reach a point and then they reach a point and then they reach a point. but they don't seem to set you down smoothly. they step forward and then recede. blue balls. but just so so pretty anyway. and that's why we keep listening. at least, why i keep listening. but what do i know about music theory. not much.
well.
i suppose this is where i awkwardly take my leave. don't watch.
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