Tuesday 24 February 2009

tuesday: i know this much is true



i don't know much, but i know i love you. plus one or two other things besides.

Thursday 12 February 2009

love the winter.


"There's a point where you can give up on winter--when temptation can enter your soul, prying its way in like cold air through the cracks in your cabin--around January sixteenth or so, and this can make you realize that February's coming, and beyond February, March.

See, I don't yet realize that March will be the hardest month. Early February's the coldest, and often the snowiest, but March, strange, silent March, will be the hardest.

The danger in yielding to thoughts of spring--green grass, hikes, bare feet, lakes, fly-fishing, rivers, and sun, hot sun--is that once these thoughts enter your mind, you cant get them out.

Love the winter. Don't betray it. Be loyal.

When the spring gets here, love it too--and then the summer.

But be loyal to the winter, all the way through--all the way, and with sincerity--or you'll find yourself high and dry, longing for a spring that's a long way off, and winter will have abandoned you, and in her place you'll have cabin fever, the worst.

The colder it gets, the more you've got to love it."


~Rick Bass, from 'Winter - Notes from Montana'

Curtsies in the direction of the marvellous Keri Smith

Wednesday 11 February 2009


It’s nice to be back in the world. After two days of trembling fever and lurching nausea, shutting the door behind me to go to work on the bluest morning I know had that caterpillar chrysalis feeling, the colours ratcheted up a notch, the sound balance altered. The air was so fresh and clear it could have been the alps instead of (when I grow rich, said the bells of) Shoreditch.

Today I would like to sit with my eyes closed and feel the shapes the wind draws as it streams past my face.

But I’m at work (bah), so instead I made a trip to an art supplies place at lunch time to buy fat felt tips and glue sticks, and now I’m fossicking through TV on the Radio’s back catalogue courtesy of the marvellous Spotify.

It’s grey now, and there’s not much to see, maybe it’s a day for listening…

Beach House:



J Tillman:



…or just daydreaming.

I like you a lot; you have a talent for always knowing the right thing to say.