the morning before her death, she followed me out to the car - a rare occurrence - in her skimpy, purple night gown and untamed curls, and from a distance said that i looked beautiful. i smiled in the driver’s seat and watched her approach the window on the passenger’s side. “i was saying that you look beautiful today but it might have just been the distance” she joked. “besides, you’ll never be as beautiful as me.” i gave a hurried goodbye, as i was late for work, but little did i know it would be our last conversation.
i love you.
Roberto Chabet - Landscape With White Moon c. 1961
There is nothing more surreal than losing someone you love.
today’s ikea trip took a strange turn. also, week 8? since my last eyebrow threading visit.
Some of my Rembrandt favorites:
1. St. Jerome in a Dark Chamber
2. The Three Trees
3. Self-portrait Open-mouthed, as if Shouting
4. The Hog
5. The Artist’s Mother
6. The Small Lion Hunt, with Two Lions
7. Bust of an Old Man with Flowing Beard
8. Student at a Table by Candlelight
9. Bust of an Old Bearded Man
10. St. Jerome Beside a Pollard Willow
I don’t know whether I’m becoming a better person or if the misery and solitude I’ve been experiencing these past few weeks has made any form of stimulation extraordinary, but right now I am so very grateful for the people I know and have kept in my life. Even the casual relationships. I want to shower you all with love and affection and appreciation.
that is all
Listen, I don’t think we’re going to riseMary Oliver, from section 8 of “Gravel,” in The Leaf and the Cloud: A Poem (Da Capo Press, 2000)
in gauze and halos.
Maybe as grass, and slowly.
Maybe as the long-leaved, beautiful grass …
"so, how’s your love life?"
this was literally my face today when someone asked something similar
the wire is fucking brilliant. i can’t remember what my life was like before watching this show.