My first drawing in a while
November 14
In the low forties and clear.
My wife and I walk the cold road in silence, asking for thirty more years.
There’s a pink and blue sunrise with an accecnt of red: a hunter’s cap burns like a coal in the yellow-gray eye of the woods.
Winter morning walks: one hundred postcards to jim harrison
Brave love, dream
not of staunching such strict flame, but come,
lean to my wound: burn on, burn on.
not of staunching such strict flame, but come,
lean to my wound: burn on, burn on.
— sylvia plath: firesong via barry.
Just made for one baby who was just delivered. Ivey hope hopkins…I hope you like your mobile!
Your proximity
will alter entirely
the weight of my heart.
will alter entirely
the weight of my heart.
books!
i’ve been getting books for this semester in the mail daily either in a box within a box or placed heavily in front of my door.
today i got a box that was from a site other than abe books.
today i got a box that have books in it other than school books. [which for some reason was placed not so unconspicuously under my door mat, which i choose to believe was the postman’s way of saying, “i’m covering this one up for the added surprise of an extra special package” walking away with a smile on his face and an extra something in his many steps down the three flights of stairs]
three christmas gifts from a certain boy back in nebraska:
- nine stories. j.d. salinger
- dandelion wine. ray bradbury
- the easter parade. richard yates
so thrilled. god books us, everyone.
