I and Hillary enjoyed pizza once, before all of this madness. Before I even saw Boston and before I ever had a poem published and before Samson and I parted and before I met Isis boy and forgot how to fall asleep at night.
Let us all dance and sing. Let us look at happy things, such as pictures.
Wasn't there just other madness, though? I don't think I ever knew how to sleep properly.
These days it's like manic-d. One day every bush burns, screaming beauty at me, the next all I see is endings and goodbyes and the terrible, inevitable cold of forgetfulness.
Once not too long ago I swam with dolphins in the Pacific, and I smiled like this:
I was looking at pictures today. I stopped taking pictures for a long time in the spring when everything went nuts. I started again when I went to LA. Check it out.
Cape Cod, March 2007:
Santa Monica, August 2007:
In those five months, my face looks noticeably different. Older, I guess? I think it all caught up with me in my cheeks and my eyes. I also can't help but think I look better. Maybe I'm one of those people who had to grow into their looks, but I thought it worked the other way for women.
I want to start using more pictures in this blog. Thoughts, anyone?