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It is so quiet right now that I can hear the bottle of mineral water becoming flat, bubbles bursting. I assure you this is not a complaint by any means at all.
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It is so quiet right now that I can hear the bottle of mineral water becoming flat, bubbles bursting. I assure you this is not a complaint by any means at all.
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It was, for the most part, the Big Sur of my high school pseudo-beatnik dreams. Everything Miller and Kerouac wrote so highly of. Yet somehow, of course, different. More crisp, less melancholic. At least while there. Maybe the melancholia resonates only post-visit, when back here, in the glass and brick. Maybe it just doesn’t really work that way anymore.
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In truth, we wished purely to be sustained here….
Been working on a new project lately.