writing. falling asleep with a book in my hand. drinking excessively hot tea. singing very badly with the window open. staring at the wall. listening to interesting people. making things.
if I know you, or would like to know you, then please send me a message.
otherwise please do not.
trippy scratchy fifteen-minute things which end in static. loud political screechy things. just beautiful voices.
rain, in my father's den, mean creek, the virgin suicides, empire records, magnolia.
guilty pleasures: the x-files, veronica mars, house, lost, CSI, smallville. oh mulder, oh grissom, oh hugh laurie. why do I have such a thing for grumpy older men?
francoise sagan. michel faber. gwendoline riley. tennessee williams. emma donoghue. francesca lia block. roald dahl. angela carter. emma forrest. douglas adams. agota kristof. frances hodgeson burnett. vladimir nabokov. norman hunter. john steinbeck. and, of course, sylvia plath.
my mum. and I'm not even joking.