I cried reading The Jungle all this week.
I needed lighter material. I re-read The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.
Bailey dies.
Then, the last fifteen pages of The Fault in Our Stars.
Everything dies.
Here We Are.
internet junk drawer. randoms. nerdiness. splendid. humor.
“My favorite story out of this is Malia, when she was 4, she had a little dance thing. Well, Michelle was gone that weekend so I’m taking her to ballet. And I get her in her little leotard and her little stuff. I did her hair, put it in a little bun.
We get to the dance studio and one of the mothers there right away comes up to Malia – she thinks she’s out of earshot of me and she says, ‘Sweetie, do you want me to redo your hair?’ And Malia who she’s 4 says, ‘Yes please, this is a disaster’ you know, she didn’t want to hurt daddy’s feelings.”
um.
Heeeey…?
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heat
Today it was hot. 104. So I did nothing today. I sat in bed. I read. It was still hot. I opened a window. A fly came in. I hate flies. I closed the window. It was still hot. Then I took a shower with cold water only. It was the greatest experience of my life thus far. So. There’s that.
John Romang uses ink and resin to create free flowing organic shapes that are frozen in time. Each work is illuminated with a fluorescent light.
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Sandwich.
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