"Her cup of stars."
At dawn, by the blue-white glow of the computer screen, the skin on my hands looked like crinkled vellum. My hands looked so old. And, it's true, they're not young.
Despite the zaleplon, I lay in bed thinking and unable to stop thinking, knowing that it was the thoughts that kept me awake. No need to make a list. The particulars may be relevant, but they're also my secret. You take that shit to the grave. I lay in bed while Spooky and Hubero slept next to me, and I watched the first forty minutes of Sam Wood's 1943 adaptation of For Whom the Bell Tolls. Gary Cooper and Ingrid Bergman. Then I listened to Ray Bradbury reading from The Martian Chronicles. Then I listened to the first few chapters of an audiobook of The Haunting of Hill House. A good edition from the seventies or eighties, and the reader blessedly didn't try to "perform." She just read. I've been able to listen to it again and again.
I watched the rim of light between the blinds and the window frames grow brighter by slow degrees. I watched the vanity mirror across from the bed, as it did a fade in from black to murky to my reflection looking back at me. Sometime after five ayem I finally slept, and I dreamt of a monstrous war and foot soldiers of ravens and dobermans. Spooky woke me at noon.
We have to be in Massachusetts tonight. Spooky's sister is getting married in the morning.
I have to wake up.
Yesterday, I wrote 1,028 words on "Ballad of an Echo Whisperer." One word at a time.
The sun is back today. I've been learning about the effects of Vitamin D deficiency, and how it's harder to get enough D north of South Carolina, Tennessee, Denver. You can pretty much draw a line. It explains a lot.
Last night, Korean comfort food from Mama Kim's, and then I played far too much Secret World (no RP, just actual gaming) while Spooky finished a skirt.
I read, from the Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology (3:33), "First occurrence of stomach stones in pterosaurs." I began reading "A new genus and subfamily of mosasaurs from the Upper Cretaceous of northern Italy," but I don't know if I'll be able to finish it. Reading about mosasaur discoveries and research is simply becoming too difficult. Perhaps, soon, I'll write more on this problem.
We watched the first two episodes of Justified, which we'd been told was good TV, and it seems to be that it actually is. Which is fortunate, given that it'll be a while before we can see Season Three of Treme.
Anyway, gotta go. No writing today. Or tomorrow. Or Sunday. We leave here in a few hours, bound for Massachusetts. We'll have free WiFi at the hotel, so I'll likely make an LJ entry while I'm away. Probably.
How High Your Highest of Highs?
Aunt Beast
Despite the zaleplon, I lay in bed thinking and unable to stop thinking, knowing that it was the thoughts that kept me awake. No need to make a list. The particulars may be relevant, but they're also my secret. You take that shit to the grave. I lay in bed while Spooky and Hubero slept next to me, and I watched the first forty minutes of Sam Wood's 1943 adaptation of For Whom the Bell Tolls. Gary Cooper and Ingrid Bergman. Then I listened to Ray Bradbury reading from The Martian Chronicles. Then I listened to the first few chapters of an audiobook of The Haunting of Hill House. A good edition from the seventies or eighties, and the reader blessedly didn't try to "perform." She just read. I've been able to listen to it again and again.
I watched the rim of light between the blinds and the window frames grow brighter by slow degrees. I watched the vanity mirror across from the bed, as it did a fade in from black to murky to my reflection looking back at me. Sometime after five ayem I finally slept, and I dreamt of a monstrous war and foot soldiers of ravens and dobermans. Spooky woke me at noon.
We have to be in Massachusetts tonight. Spooky's sister is getting married in the morning.
I have to wake up.
Yesterday, I wrote 1,028 words on "Ballad of an Echo Whisperer." One word at a time.
The sun is back today. I've been learning about the effects of Vitamin D deficiency, and how it's harder to get enough D north of South Carolina, Tennessee, Denver. You can pretty much draw a line. It explains a lot.
Last night, Korean comfort food from Mama Kim's, and then I played far too much Secret World (no RP, just actual gaming) while Spooky finished a skirt.
I read, from the Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology (3:33), "First occurrence of stomach stones in pterosaurs." I began reading "A new genus and subfamily of mosasaurs from the Upper Cretaceous of northern Italy," but I don't know if I'll be able to finish it. Reading about mosasaur discoveries and research is simply becoming too difficult. Perhaps, soon, I'll write more on this problem.
We watched the first two episodes of Justified, which we'd been told was good TV, and it seems to be that it actually is. Which is fortunate, given that it'll be a while before we can see Season Three of Treme.
Anyway, gotta go. No writing today. Or tomorrow. Or Sunday. We leave here in a few hours, bound for Massachusetts. We'll have free WiFi at the hotel, so I'll likely make an LJ entry while I'm away. Probably.
How High Your Highest of Highs?
Aunt Beast