I miss you, my Friends, I really do.
I think of things all the time to tell you, then I think, "No, that's petty and melodramatic...it's self-absorbed".
We have conversations all the time, we do.
You've taught me more about myself than I ever imagined possible.
You live in me. Do I live in you?
-Anon
I think of things all the time to tell you, then I think, "No, that's petty and melodramatic...it's self-absorbed".
We have conversations all the time, we do.
You've taught me more about myself than I ever imagined possible.
You live in me. Do I live in you?
-Anon
Comments
My niece down near Dallas recently. Guy thing although she seems to have made a little better choice this time. Caleigh's new school doesn't have a music program so she told the teacher, "You have a nerve calling this a Montessori school". Eldest niece was in for a parental conference.
Poor forlorn little folding chair.
I hope it works out for your niece. :)
This, however, is where the materiality of photographs—even the regular kind, with negatives, or the digital kind, proffered to the eye through a glass screen framed in plastic and backed by silicon photoreceptors—reasserts itself. Buse discusses “a growing group of ‘photo-materialists,’ who study what they call photo-objects.” The analyses of such critics, among them Elizabeth Edwards and Janice Hart (whom Buse quotes), reinvest “photographs of all sorts with their own ‘aura’ of thingness.” “It is not by chance,” he adds, “that this critical turn coincided with the rise of digital photography.” Coded simulacra induce a longing for the sensually palpable
I love to sit and sort through my polaroids, as much for the feeling of them in my hand as the memory of taking them.
It was tolerable because it was a dry heat. Zero humidity.
And yes, I thought about Breaking Bad a lot on that trip...we were right on the border. :p
I've never seen so many immigration officers...