7:17 p.m. The radio is playing an aria from some opera, I think it's Puccini. My room's illuminated by one light bulb, 60 watts I think, it's limpid and lovely this light. I'm reading Paul Schrader's "Transcendental Style On Film," the bits on Bresson. It's absolutely beautiful right now to be alive. Remember this moment right now when things look bleak.

the Funny Show

agriculture poem

my life in the ghost of Bush

time-lapsed (part 1)

unreconciled

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Images are taken without permission from the fine and trusting folks at Folk Arts of Poland; please purchase something from them. Background music stolen without permission from Epitonic, Basta Music, and just about everywhere else my unscrupulous hands could grab something. No rights reserved.

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