Long time no blog, etc. Various ills and aches of the bones and lungs and head and metaphorical heart, a winter spring hibernation of body and mind where all I ever did was drag myself out of bed for work and the occaisonal coffee. Read ridiculous things and watched shows about dead bodies (Bones & Pushing Daisies). Have been slowly pulling myself back together, making outfits and plans and being social, mainly when lured out with Indian food and bike rides. Above, Friday night in a beautiful garden with wonderful Gallery coworkers and coworkers' iPhones.
Dreaming in the mothertongue and lovelorn most days, I decided a trip to the motherland was in order. Now am I wondering if I am asking for trouble by taking a magazine called Bomb with a painting of bare breasts on the cover onto the plane? I will probably have devoured it by then (Anne Carson poem and Siri Hustvedt interview). Less than a month to go. Last week I would have said likely a year. So no time at all.
