Freshly-made pancakes: One here, another burnt one there. And of course, like sponges, they've soaked up all the syrup (which is very annoying for someone who likes to practically drown their pancakes into unrecognizable oblivion). I want to get up and douse them with more syrup, but I'm feeling a tad too lazy for that right now. Laziness isn't a ( Read more... )

I've sort of been "talking to someone" recently, over the past few days. Oof. I hate saying that. It sounds so pretentious. And although I don't like being superstitious, I still don't want to say too much too soon. All I think I can say is that he inspires me immensely, and vice versa. He's intelligent (as I can be quite picky about that), funny, ( Read more... )

I Find Myself in Little Willows

I find myself in little willows…
                - in the breast of pillows,
                where the family of blood whistle and billow.
                Where the child of rain knocks at my crib,
                and presses at the cot of my flesh
                with the bright strawberry tips of fingers ( Read more... )

- Pablo Picasso (1881-1973).

A testament to "life imitating art", perhaps? Anyway.

I decided yesterday evening when I awoke from a slumberous...slumber, that I was going to paint. Paint a lamp, that is. And there was absolutely no way around it. I was going to paint something, cased closed.

Having done the usual wake-up ritual (looking vaguely at ( Read more... )