More Miranda July lovin'
May. 21st, 2007 09:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rebeccmeisterI can't get this page out of my head. If you've looked through the whole site, you know what I mean. I almost want to make it into an icon of some sort, or maybe I'll steal it and use it as my desktop. But perhaps that would make MJ grumpy since it was her idea originally. I don't know how she manages to do it, but she's always up to something interesting, even if she's opposed to dancing fetuses. But that's not my story.
I just have to work on my own creative spark, really.
Signs and portents seem to be pointing towards a trip to the bookstore one of these days. Yes, perhaps this weekend, if I have the time to spare.
This evening, biking home after meeting up with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
crume, the world was quiet and the wind roared wordlessly in my ears.
He said he thinks he would be happy with a small house and land to turn into a garden where he could grow plants to cook delicious food. It made me picture a small house perched on a hill in Montana, with tall grasses bending and rustling in the wind. One thing many of us have agreed upon, we want to get the hell out of Phoenix before we turn into shells of ourselves and crumble and blow away. Perhaps the solitude of living in the countryside is more comforting than the isolation of the neverending, impersonal suburb slashed open with pavement.
It's exhausting sometimes, to try to explore this disemboweled city as the summer begins to bake. Part of me likes it here in the middle of the summer, when things have quieted down and people go into refrigerated seclusion. I get more thinking done, yet at the same time I don't need to think as much.
I just have to work on my own creative spark, really.
Signs and portents seem to be pointing towards a trip to the bookstore one of these days. Yes, perhaps this weekend, if I have the time to spare.
This evening, biking home after meeting up with
crume, the world was quiet and the wind roared wordlessly in my ears.He said he thinks he would be happy with a small house and land to turn into a garden where he could grow plants to cook delicious food. It made me picture a small house perched on a hill in Montana, with tall grasses bending and rustling in the wind. One thing many of us have agreed upon, we want to get the hell out of Phoenix before we turn into shells of ourselves and crumble and blow away. Perhaps the solitude of living in the countryside is more comforting than the isolation of the neverending, impersonal suburb slashed open with pavement.
It's exhausting sometimes, to try to explore this disemboweled city as the summer begins to bake. Part of me likes it here in the middle of the summer, when things have quieted down and people go into refrigerated seclusion. I get more thinking done, yet at the same time I don't need to think as much.
