Saturday, November 17, 2007
Lachrymose. The weather is beautiful here, now, but I am unequal to it. I should be out making images, but some grand ennui has me down. My limbs are limp, my spine bent. My head hangs. It is Saturday, the finest of days, but I am slow, limp. It may take me some time to Make It New.
Posted by cafe selavy at 2:51 PM