I take a long time to recover from home; I ingest it wholly and am left with a hole in my stomach when I return. And it all takes time and in that time I wonder whether what I'm feeling is more real than the settled days I'm slipping back into.

Thank you for comments this week, they meant a lot to me.

And some links you might like:
Low, sad murmur

The tablecloth in the last image. Perfection

"I want to have something important and revelatory to say about something but I don’t, not right now. Now I just want to go home."

- read here, found here

Hila's It's the Dusty Hour, reminds me of my friend Jen. Jen's a friend whose style I examined and coveted when we were undergraduates together. Now, she is just wholly is herself and I myself and when I look at her, I don't feel that anymore, just our friendship.

I ate fish when I was at home. It seemed right to, sitting there in Howth, moving down the pier every day to photograph the trawlers and watch men sew nets. Smoked salmon with brown bread. Monkfish. Hake. Dublin Bay Prawns. One day while there, I saw Alaska Part 2 and felt the same way I was feeling about eating fish in Dublin, hitting pause on vegetarianism. Not being hardcore about everything all the time.

"I think if we didn't contradict ourselves, it would be awfully boring. It would be tedious to be alive. Changing your mind is probably one of the most beautiful things people can do. And I've changed my mind about a lot of things over the years."
- Mr. Auster, heard here.

Have a lovely weekend!
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