i accidentally logged into my old blogger site. it was closed but i could still log on into a discarded empty place. old photo, aged it seemed, though it's only a series of pixels on the screen i tell myself.
i am reading susan sontag's on photography. she writes:
People robbed of their past seem to make the most fervent picture takers... i'm feeling nostalgic having recounted to him of my life in korea. a list of things i remembered. some idyllic, others painful. and he took it in like tepid water.
today i wanted to drive far away. to the country or the sea. i'd like to rest this aching neck on a cushion of fresh grass with no one around. no pressures of time. is that what is ailing me?
i am moving again. possibly the last time, at least for a long while. yesterday, i painted my room a light cool blue. the color alone kept me in a meditative mood so the heat didn't oppress me. i was alone and feeling up the wall on a four foot ladder, fully concentrated so as not to fall. feeling the walls that are mine, the ornate mantle that is mine, and looking into the closets and feeling the wood of the doors that i possess,
i was happy.