lovings and thankings

for paul elliman's sweet alphabet.

for sheer playfulness, jamie johnson's short film, 'holiday around my bedroom'.

for david foster wallace, again. and for this precise and generous assessment of his unique gifts.

for striped bendy straws, miso soup in mugs, andrew bird, pavements crispy with frozen muddy footprints.

for being happy. for being home in my bed. for being home in my skin. for feeling the perfectly curved lightness of hope in my cupped palms.

now: to dunk chocolate biscuits in tea and watch the streetlights come on.