| "This cold snap has turned me into a half-mad combination of Faust and Sam McGee; I'm willing to do whatever it takes."
Read the open letter to global warming here.
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| The Small Square
by Sophia De Mello Breyner
(Translated from the Portuguese by Ruth Fainlight)
My life had taken the form of a small square
The autumn when your death was being meticulously organized
I clung to the square because you loved
The humble and nostalgic humanity of small shops
Where shopkeepers fold and unfold ribbons and cloth
I tried to become you because you were going to die
And all my life there would cease to be mine
I tried to smile as you smiled
At the newspaper seller at the tobacco seller
At the woman without legs who sold violets
I asked the woman without legs to pray for you
I lit candles at all the altars
Of the churches standing in the corner of that square
Hardly had I opened my eyes when I saw and read
The vocation for eternity written on your face
I summoned up the streets places people
Who were the witnesses of your face
So they would call you so they would unweave
The tissue that death was binding around you
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| The T
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| sorry i've been away for a while.. the last few weeks have been really difficult in a lot of ways. i've also been crazy busy. i watched amelie last night.
[ david dislikes ]
greasy fast food.
back pains from lack of sleep and bending over art projects.
the red marks that glasses leave on your nose.
wet socks.
[ david likes ]
turkish tea.
the rich texture of early morning and late evening sunlight.
the smell of pines in colorado.
lara's cookies.
an orchestra tuning up before a performance.
sipping cream soda on the grass in beijing.
the big red chair.
french baguettes and olive oil.
i think i'll shave a letter in my head later today..
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