Smell of a drizzly morning

It was that first feel of ozone as I left work this morning. A greeting so familiar and hoped for and so surprising.

Today would be good for ...

Icelandbob's Music mix.

Keats' Endymion

Fellini: I'm a Born Liar

wings at Carson's

Cardamom tea

Charles Lamb's Essays

Monster Commute from the beginning

Blank-it from the beginning

OR

...adventure with ninja electron wearing galoshes and rain-proof capes with neon goggles - we go to find the perfect person to run a by-the-cup tea and coffee shop in Brownville who will also have granola bars and fruit and sometimes some bean soup with carrots in it that tastes of thyme and parsley and bay leaf and who grows basil in the window for the love of it. we fly on her unicorn cat steed named Claude. we end the day with cocoa, bitter and thick, and croissants and also lasagna that someone else cooks for us. and then someone we know will draw the whole thing and then we will make it a poster and then never be recognized on account of our face-covering, but not really hiding, clever masks. maybe with feathers. made of old yarn and pipe cleaners and starch paste.


i really need to write more.

I think I will do ALL OF THIS. except for the part about all of the reading - that shit just gets in the way.

An open apology

I know that I said I would send the check today, but that was before I knew that I would sit on a bench in a park reading Keats to a frog croaking in the creek.

There was chocolate.

The sunshine was warmer than the breeze and the only other people in the park were pleasant and headed to a bench to be with not me, just themselves.

This morning brought work, this evening brings more, and I am content.

If this is what my life leads me toward, this self-scheduled mess of cleaning and eating and reading and writing and Keats and Strunk & White and tater tots and cool water and work that makes sense to me - then it is good to keep working to live it.

I do not think you will be angry.

I saved some birdsong and some of the frog's croaks for you. I have put them near the dappled sun you saved for me so many miles ago.

This evening I may venture out again and see about evening mists in the trees down the street. You never know what bench may need a reader, or what reader I may need to be.

Much love,
Me

On Seeing the Elgin Marbles for the first time
by John Keats

My spirit is too weak; mortality
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep,
And each imagin'd pinnacle and steep
Of godlike hardship tells me I must die
Like a sick eagle looking at the sky.
Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep,
That I have not the cloudy winds to keep
Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Such dim-conceived glories of the brain
Bring round the heart an indescribably feud;
So do these wonders a most dizzy pain,
That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude
Wasting of old Time - with a billowy main,
A sun, a shadow of a magnitude.

Also - This is the funniest thing I have read in a very long time. If we ever hang out, remind me, and I'll read it aloud.