my mother was of the earth, my father was of the sky  Genius. is this lennon’s heavy heroin phase? he looks a little too unhealthy.

san francisco! as if i had never left. yet now: gone are the stressful hours of copying legal documents, fifteen minute lunches and frantic runs to make the filing deadline at the san francisco superior court! i breathe a little less heavy now. in may, the city is at its most beautiful – tourists don’t have a clue. sitting on the grass in dolores park, strumming a ukulele.



of winter and spring

Greetings friends. Time flies and spokane is certainly not exempt from this: the winter is almost behind us; streets are dry; tire chains have become obsolete, and my father’s paranoia and worry that our roof will give way under the three feet x length x width of our house cubic feet of snow, a fear that somehow managed to trickle down onto all of us in the house during the past month, has slowly dissipated. Now only patches of moss grace the aforementioned roof, announcing the coming of spring and rebirth in their own green, sticky, disgusting way.

As for me, I have had a somewhat decent rest, given the fact that i am in spokane and hanging out at my parents house. books have been read, gre practice sets finished, and until recently, many a movie checked out from the library. mostly stuff by bresson, godard and other luminaries of french cinema. in addition, i’ve done a fair amount of writing and rewriting, attempting to put down some impressions of my travels in the balkans. it is hard and maybe it is all in vain; when i think about it all, sometimes i wish i had studied microbiology or otherwise dedicated my life to science. it’s never too late, is all im saying.

but, to quote Biz Markie, enough about that, let’s get back to the story.

hi. i am back in the blogosphere. hopefully i will keep this up. i thought that it would be nice to have a focus and some stability when it comes blogging — maybe i could write about something in particular, or something other than myself for a change — but there is not much i can do. all these blogs somehow seem to resemble the mess of my peripatetic life.

see you in paris in may? i will be waiting on the steps of the pantheon, my wayfarers tipped forward on my nose just so.

love vensla