Tuesday, June 8, 2004

Let the Rain Come Down

Today would be the perfect day to spend in a cafe with strangers, a huge bowl of cafe au lait, and a good book. But since I'm not in Europe or even Asia, I'm at home, online, listening to the rain drizzle down on the terra cotta planters outside my window, doing my laundry (because it's Tuesday, after all)--but in machines(!) that actually clean AND dry the clothes...--except that the dryer seems to be on its last leg because the clothes are still not dry. I have about another hour before I head to the studio to have my CD mastered, so I won't be able to head to Nodding Dog till this afternoon, if then.

The question of the day: if one were to buy Lori's car, would the inside smell like her hair? Any thoughts?

Stumbled upon Andrew Boyd's Life's Little Deconstruction Book: Self-Help for the Post-Hip last night while walking the aisles of Bookstop. His web site is equally brilliant. Two of my favorites:

  • 3. Dip into nihilism.
  • 6. Expose depth as another surface.

1 comment:

  1. To answer your question and reference Boyd's book: the narrative referent of the smell of Lori's hair will always already be there and everywhere, dispersed and transgressive.

    -Monkey Boy