takingupmybrush.blogspot.com
taking up my brush: November 2004
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Taking up my brush. There it was- her picture. Yes, with all its greens and blues, its lines running up and across, its attempt at something. It would be hung in attics, she thought; it would be destroyed. But what did that matter? She asked herself, taking up her brush again." -Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse. Monday, November 29, 2004. I don't like living breath-held and brow-furrowed. It makes me tired and anxious. Not to mention somewhat headachey. And so what do i do about it all? I guess there wi...
takingupmybrush.blogspot.com
taking up my brush: February 2005
http://takingupmybrush.blogspot.com/2005_02_01_archive.html
Taking up my brush. There it was- her picture. Yes, with all its greens and blues, its lines running up and across, its attempt at something. It would be hung in attics, she thought; it would be destroyed. But what did that matter? She asked herself, taking up her brush again." -Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse. Wednesday, February 23, 2005. Amy lowell. september, 1918. I think i'll always try to be more creative than i am. but i guess creativity isn't the right word. I blame my bad memory. I've moved o...
takingupmybrush.blogspot.com
taking up my brush: January 2005
http://takingupmybrush.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_archive.html
Taking up my brush. There it was- her picture. Yes, with all its greens and blues, its lines running up and across, its attempt at something. It would be hung in attics, she thought; it would be destroyed. But what did that matter? She asked herself, taking up her brush again." -Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse. Sunday, January 23, 2005. Comptine D'un Autre Ete: L'apres Midi. The amelie soundtrack plays (somewhat mournfully) from my $5 headphones. My roommate is at a pub with a strange british army boy.
takingupmybrush.blogspot.com
taking up my brush: january
http://takingupmybrush.blogspot.com/2006/01/january.html
Taking up my brush. There it was- her picture. Yes, with all its greens and blues, its lines running up and across, its attempt at something. It would be hung in attics, she thought; it would be destroyed. But what did that matter? She asked herself, taking up her brush again." -Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse. Tuesday, January 10, 2006. January 05 was full of heavy-heart nights. they're not so frequent now. But sometimes ( like tonight, when dark raindrops tear away from a low ash sky). This guy i know.
takingupmybrush.blogspot.com
taking up my brush: September 2005
http://takingupmybrush.blogspot.com/2005_09_01_archive.html
Taking up my brush. There it was- her picture. Yes, with all its greens and blues, its lines running up and across, its attempt at something. It would be hung in attics, she thought; it would be destroyed. But what did that matter? She asked herself, taking up her brush again." -Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse. Thursday, September 29, 2005. Some days are just so good. In a just so ordinary sort of way. It's this thing i do(life), day in and day out,. And when it's steady like breath(today-right now),.
cookietong.blogspot.com
Cookie Tong: March 2005
http://cookietong.blogspot.com/2005_03_01_archive.html
Oh Television Mountain, Whose Towers flash with light, wrap your beautiful steel arms around me, you my broadcasting lover. Today is my birthday! This morning in honor the day I burst forth from the womb, from dark unto light, we had some special bibimbap (amazing Korean rice stuff) and some Korean birthday soup! Nice work on the food traditions Korea, nice work. But instead guess where we went? To the top of Television Mountain! You should hear how he says "My house! I LOVE THIS MAN WITH ALL OF MY BEING!
takingupmybrush.blogspot.com
taking up my brush: *yawn*
http://takingupmybrush.blogspot.com/2005/09/yawn.html
Taking up my brush. There it was- her picture. Yes, with all its greens and blues, its lines running up and across, its attempt at something. It would be hung in attics, she thought; it would be destroyed. But what did that matter? She asked herself, taking up her brush again." -Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse. Monday, September 26, 2005. The coming of fall makes me feel. Like a bear confused, i tend to hibernate in the summer heat. I lay half-dead in dead-air rooms and wait. With goosebumps, unexpected.
takingupmybrush.blogspot.com
taking up my brush: all the trees of the field will clap their hands
http://takingupmybrush.blogspot.com/2005/04/all-trees-of-field-will-clap-their.html
Taking up my brush. There it was- her picture. Yes, with all its greens and blues, its lines running up and across, its attempt at something. It would be hung in attics, she thought; it would be destroyed. But what did that matter? She asked herself, taking up her brush again." -Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse. Monday, April 18, 2005. All the trees of the field will clap their hands. Windows down and music up, i drove through distantly familiar fields of corn to a soundtrack mixed across the pond.
cookietong.blogspot.com
Cookie Tong: April 2005
http://cookietong.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html
Brian's night on the tewn. Sorry this weeks offerings are scant, I was lazy and not that much happened. Today I ate at a the Turkish restaurant here in Kabul. Not too shabby. Ate my favorite kind of kebab (doner kebab) althought it was a little bit different and I actually like the French Algerian version better than the Turkish version but they are close. My friend joony ate it and also realized its tender taste and delicious melody of desire with which it carved a niche in his back. Also there is this ...
