July 29, 2009


I spent my first five weeks of summer in this exact configuration, it feels like. Tiny dorm bed with the smell of the foam mattress pad seeping through, down comforter warmed by the sun with all the feathers fallen off to queen sides from long twin mattress, endless red lines squiggling like coral or the unimaginable human brain I studied in my Intro Psych course, but focusing most of my attention on my Komtrak Inspiral notebook and the several pieces of colored paper I cut from one large square, filling in lines and dots with my Pigma Micron 02 pen and no thinner and no fatter, colored with Crayola and Prang while I dream of Prismacolor to come, while my head is a mess of perspective and vizualization and mapping techniques and reflection and shine and the basic planes of the head I just wanted and want to stipple into oblivion and draw everything everything everything with a broken Meyer lemon branch by my side smelling so sweet and still unripe.

But onto other things, now. Out of summer school, I'm rushing around Northern California, trying to see everyone and everything before seventeen days in Los Angeles and Canada.

And with that exploration comes this one, and this one wild word to follow. We'll see.

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