June 2007 Archives
I spent my last $.70 on five pink envelopes with a soft, vellum texture and a small package of miniature birds' nests at SCRAP yesterday, but still managed to scrounge up enough dimes to buy my coffee this morning. Now I have to figure out how to come up with $125 for my new landlord by nightfall. I've shaken the money tree barren. I like to think being poor gives one character, or at least stimulus.
The past two weeks has been a hot air balloon pushing into the wind, floating oblong, the heat from its little tuft of gas warming and rousing those carried along by it, and then suddenly crashing into a welted desert that screams its presence, impatience with you. Without hosts or flocks as guides.
Practicing dasein gently over breakfast, selfing the future. Most of last night's dream-states: roiled in visions of my new apartment - the sole reason for this my momentary destitution. I dreamed about the walls, now being painted freshwater blue, the color of post-dusk, approximately 9:30PM (at least on Solstice). B. and I talked about stitching curtains together, plotting threaded arrows and spirals across diaphanous cottons to mask my new windows, which are unfortunately barred. A little nook in the kitchen, a table big enough for two, and then across I'll have my desk and my books shelved on stacked fruit crates, to lend the room verticality (ironically, I've learned a lot about spacial interiors from New York-centric design blogs).
...succulents lining the stairs.
