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Pickle Me This

September 27, 2005

Both Screens

The new point of everything lately is the five senses. Concentrating. What does Fall smell like? What do raindrops sound like? Bonfires and a million pins dropping. I am very bad at senses. Fall and raindrops is an inadequate response. I am learning. What does the music in the other half of our semi-detatched house sound like? Bulls charging the wall. Feels like too. Last night I walked home from school, into a time warp. I used to walk home that same way a million years ago. Glances into glowing windows remains more interesting than any movie I have ever seen. Yesterday I wore brown cordoroy pants, and it was autumn. I don’t know which came first.

The new writing life is lived with discipline. I write for about twenty minutes when I rise every morning, and then two hours later in the day. And this will be upped eventually. Practical habits.

I am obsessed with “Twin Cinemas” by The New Pornographers.

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