Sunday, May 15, 2011

slipping by

I couldn't tell you where today went, we all seemed to have the lethargy, my guitar was distorted and languid this morning and my alto had less range than usual, coming home to zone out, go out and see the relatives, where the discourse is always thoughtful, coming home through sheets of rain listening to Alice in Chains, planted the rest of the seeds that might grow into flowers, lots of cleome that always reminds me of benevolent alien life forms or sea anemones, reading and drinking tea, bending copper wire into shapes with a pair of pliers because sometimes the words don't come. The cats have been lonely and interrupt whatever I'm working on, demanding attention and affection, bestowing sandpapery kisses.

I don't have much to say, so I'm not going to try too hard. It's a good night for contemplation, a comfortable moodiness, good for depressed brit-chick trip-hop and pondering of the good kind.

1 comment:

Randal Graves said...

That looks uncomfortable.

Re: writing, with deadlines (cue Jose Chung). You should just mash-up some of your posts, mood pieces in miniature; you always convey this stuff much much better than most of us mortals. Or, there's always falling back on a high seas battle between outer space Rosicrucians and hollow earth lizard men.