Romp through Turners |
That building, an epic composition of texture, large broken windows, more sides than you believe, shields five suddenly children throwing snowballs at the ice floe they want to come down. It's folded ...
Posted by colleen on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
The gathering of the newts |
Today there was very heavy air. A wooded path lined in copper-colored leaves formed a backdrop concealing them until practically underfoot. Dozens, officially, their little spots and almost ribs if yo...
Posted by colleen on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
Dance dance revolution |
I recommend the butterfly song on the fifth remix. You know what you can do if you're sick of bars? You can go to the arcade and play "dance dance revolution." I was a skeptic, I'll admit, but push y...
Posted by colleen on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
Hey, thanks |
I'd like to thank the guy with a fumanchu who was JACKHAMMERING right outside my bedroom window at six in the morning. It's cool, because I wasn't trying to sleep, I was just resting my eyelids. It's ...
Posted by colleen on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
back to life. Reluctantly. |
oF course, when you're in the jungle and you haven't showered for nine days and your shoes are wet, you start thinking that you miss salads from the bottle of bread, chocolate, your bed, your friends....
Posted by colleen on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
COUNTDOWN |
10. I'm driving myself nuts with all this procrastination. It's worse than actually doing the stuff.
9. Today I got some things done, but I can only do it if I actually write myself a note and check ...
Posted by colleen on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
Batmothballs |
I discovered the remnants of a party recently- a feather stuck to my wall like it's waiting for the next event, a sequin from a pair of high-heels I'm told I'll never wear again. A night of batmoth in...
Posted by colleen on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
Playing with fire |
Today, over brunch, I learned things I couldn't believe. Like the set of a movie, the glasses clinked, and quiet, polite chatter rose over poached eggs and fresh bread. But my mind took me to the unim...
Posted by colleen on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
chicken run |
"I'm doing this unit on chickens," she said. "And eggs." I look up.
"You can sponge-paint a chicken."
I look through the color choices: red, yellow, brown, white. No green. Not even grey. This kind...
Posted by colleen on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
