I went to see Wilco playing live in Milan and their show was so inspiring and moving that, eventually, it shaked off all the bad feelings haunting my heart.
I died a little inside, but I came back new.
my Flickr thing
If I were a better writer, I might write things here other than how bad a writer I am. I might express how my days are or how my job hunt is going or how much I loved the pasta I had for lunch, but I am so self aware of my writing, that all I can really articulate with any reasonable sense of clarity, is how conscious I am of the fact that I’m writing something and how weird it must be coming out. I was the person who wrote those letters about the paper I was writing on, how nice then pen was I was writing with and repeatedly apologizing for either my handwriting, or the lengthiness of the letter. This all changed sometime in my teens when I learned of the care package. Finally, I could express myself to you through artifacts: candy, books & magazines, clothing, photographs, weird shit in general, music, etc, etc. I still very much operate on this level. So forgive me if all you get here is weird photos, songs, art/design I like, and the occasional rant. I guess I trained myself to find it easier to communicate through artifacts than to communicate through words.
Ny what a crazy city!wish i could live there!nice blog xo
ReplyDeleteThank you Sabrina. As a European in love with the Us I'd do anything to live on the right side on the ocean, let alone living in NYC.
ReplyDelete(: