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and the clouds stacked back and back and back and back...
Oh randomness. We shall marry, methinks.
I browsed through nearly every print available at allposters.com and came to the unsurprising conclusion that I like August Macke, a lot. Bright colors and dreamy scenes, he's like chagall without the flying donkeys.
Allette Brooks was at Fire & Water last night, so L. and I went. She was lovely and amusing and I bought her third album.
Her lyrics, on the second two albums anyway, are often environmentally-concious, either in the aesthetic sense or the political and sometimes both. I consider myself an environmentalist, but often feel like a very poor one. I recycle, but I waste electricity. I take walks outdoors on nice sunny temperate days, but more often enjoy nature through the two-dimensional gaze of a window. I dream of eschewing all modern conveniences but in reality would probably suffer delerium tremors if deprived of my computer or television for more than a week.
This is not entirely my fault. I was, after all, raised in the woods and given a deeply ingrained hatred of cities and suburbia, but by parents who needed coffee and a hot shower and npr in the morning and have never been camping or on a hike longer than five miles in their life.
I still like to believe I could manage. I did spend an entire summer playing in the woods catching bugs, after all, for money no less. I know I will be a rural dweller all my life. Perhaps I shall invest in solar panels, and assuage my guilt at being an energy-depleting, wasteful American.
I do hate Bush, and I do believe we have too many people and use up too much space even in the places where we don't have too many people. I am a fan of wiping the planet's human population out by about ninety percent and starting fresh. I'd happily martyr myself for the earth.
I am kidding, sort of.
I browsed through nearly every print available at allposters.com and came to the unsurprising conclusion that I like August Macke, a lot. Bright colors and dreamy scenes, he's like chagall without the flying donkeys.
Allette Brooks was at Fire & Water last night, so L. and I went. She was lovely and amusing and I bought her third album.
Her lyrics, on the second two albums anyway, are often environmentally-concious, either in the aesthetic sense or the political and sometimes both. I consider myself an environmentalist, but often feel like a very poor one. I recycle, but I waste electricity. I take walks outdoors on nice sunny temperate days, but more often enjoy nature through the two-dimensional gaze of a window. I dream of eschewing all modern conveniences but in reality would probably suffer delerium tremors if deprived of my computer or television for more than a week.
This is not entirely my fault. I was, after all, raised in the woods and given a deeply ingrained hatred of cities and suburbia, but by parents who needed coffee and a hot shower and npr in the morning and have never been camping or on a hike longer than five miles in their life.
I still like to believe I could manage. I did spend an entire summer playing in the woods catching bugs, after all, for money no less. I know I will be a rural dweller all my life. Perhaps I shall invest in solar panels, and assuage my guilt at being an energy-depleting, wasteful American.
I do hate Bush, and I do believe we have too many people and use up too much space even in the places where we don't have too many people. I am a fan of wiping the planet's human population out by about ninety percent and starting fresh. I'd happily martyr myself for the earth.
I am kidding, sort of.
no subject
i'm not.