quiet and happy

the sky is white and grey. it feels very close.
down low. close to the ground.
like a shamed dog.

i bought a bag of frozen blueberries and also Jiffy blueberry muffin mix. i saw the box and it reminded me of my mother- my mother when i was 5 or 6 years old, giving me the mixing spoon to lick, and me always dreaming so many dreams every single day.

i am reading Jean Genet's The Thief's Journal and, though i am only on page 42, i have already fallen in love with this man. something in his tempo... his temperament, the pacing of his words, his choices, carries an echo back to me. an echo i can't yet place. remnants of old dreams or memories or some kind of low, sad wish that has followed me in the decades since i was the sweet 5 or 6 years old girl. i did in fact wait for the first star every night. i made so many wishes. when i die, it will be interesting to go to wherever they are written down and learn them all again.

all these years later: blueberry muffins baking in my oven. i lick the mixing spoon clean. and the mixing bowl too. i can smell my little yellow darlings rising.


the day drizzles.


did you know tomorrow, we install the show? :) i am deeply myself in this moment, waiting to hang paintings on white walls.