i watch this so many times and my love for bill murray grows and grows

kafka

i fell asleep while reading kafka and dreamed something terrible. at the end of the dream i wasn't able to walk and i was saying to someone, sometimes my body just doesn't work and he was saying you know what that indicates, right? and i said no, no, don't tell me. and then i was at a couch and there was a radio on and someone was there and i woke up--i was very sluggish--i couldn't move my face or open my eyes but i was on the couch i'm on now the one i was sleeping on--and i woke and i knew the person there was upstairs and was coming to get me as soon as i was awake so i pretended to sleep and some machine was monitoring my breath and i had to breathe very carefully so they wouldn't be able to tell anything. and then she was there the person from upstairs she was the cleaning lady spraying the windows and i thought it was embarrassing to sleep while someone cleaned everything so i woke up and here i am, alive.

here is another dream

i had a dream about a wet mud town where people would go and pretend to be dead. and then i found out it was a tv show and you got money to pretend to die. but i kept making all of the dead people come back to life (and they were confused about that) and when i found the sound stage i realized i had been there forever.

here is what kafka says:

"out with your stories! i no longer want to hear scraps. tell me everything from beginning to end. i won't listen to less, i warn you. but i'm burning to hear the whole thing."

"spreading his handkerchief over the hollow in a worn step, he invited me to be seated: 'it's easier for you to ask questions sitting down. i'll remain standing, it's easier for me to answer. but don't torment me!'"

"feeling that this required an answer, i put my hand in the hip pocket of my trousers as though i were looking for something. actually, i wasn't looking for anything, i just wished to change my appearance in order to show interest in the conversation."

and this (which is probably the center, for me, of everything):

"what is it that makes you all behave as though you were real? are you trying to make me believe i'm unreal, standing here absurdly on the green pavement? you, sky, surely it's a long time since you've been real, and as for you, ringplatz, you never have been real."

these are all from "description of a struggle"

animals

this seems important.

as does this.

and then

pont and i went through america a little.

i put pictures here.

i think i must have spent days alone. what i can remember is looking at the ocean, reading beckett and listening to smog.

and if i do not go there gladly, i go perhaps more gladly there than anywhere else, astonished and at peace, i nearly said as in a dream, but no, no. but it is not the kind of place where you go, but where you find yourself, sometimes, not knowing how, and which you cannot leave at will, and where you find yourself without any pleasure, but with more perhaps than in those places you can escape from, by making an effort, places full of mystery, full of the familiar mysteries i listen and the voice is of a world collapsing endlessly, a frozen world, under a faint untroubled sky, enough to see by, yes, and frozen too.

from molloy

the unfortunates

i like the people in the background of this video

and here is the near end of the unfortunates (a very beautiful novel in pieces):

it was obvious to me that even if he was still there the following week, he would be less able to talk, at the rate he was deteriorating, disintegrating, so the last thing i said to him, all i had to give him, alone with him, with my coat on, about to go, the car waiting outside to run us to the station, staring down at him, facing those eyes, he staring back all the time now, it must have been a great effort for him, yes, and i said, it was all i had, what else could i do, i said, i'll get it all down, mate.                     it'll be very little, he said, after a while, slowly, still those eyes.                            that's all anyone has done, very little, i said.

wolf

"your wolf will have become another wolf, your sister a different sister . . ."

this is from invisible cities, which is a book by italo calvino that i'm madly in love with.

the other thing i'm in love with is this book by julia cohen and mathias svalina that can be ordered for only $6.5! it starts by saying:

i'm a bloody gretel & i rhyme with an apple.

we went to leadville one day.

summer

i just now this very minute finished rb's last book--the last published book, an unfortunate woman:

that's how it ends, basically with "but i did try."

it's time to move on to the other things now. i don't want to. i already miss the daylights out of him.

over the weekend, there was a poetry reading here and i got to read poems with one of my favorite poets, zs

on saturday i got to hear all of the beautiful icelandic tales by these most incredible storytellers, frank and jess. i wish i could have recorded them for you.

yesterday i went on this bike ride

  most of the people who ride in colorado wear these kinds of outfits

and then guess who came over!

yes! shena made radishes with butter and salt. it was so delicious.

ts and i spent some time making this magic tree and then we went dancing with dani on the roof of this building

when we got back the tree looked like so

i miss the ocean so much today

sea pie

one of my favorite things that rb says is:

"everything is here except that which is missing."

yesterday i went on a boring bike ride and my seat fell all the way down so i had to come back home and fix it.

here is the long trail (on the way to the cherry creek reservoir)

here is this.

at night, i went to andrea's and we made dioramas and drank fresh mint drinks

did you know of something called sea pie?

that's a magnifying glass that we used to look at all of our things. and at each other.