a man with deep scars running along the back of his head. They once were, we can suppose, gashes blood-filled and contentious.
a woman posing her jeans for a friend. "Those look good for being so cheap." Coy side smile.
tourists watch me and mark me as a local. This was proven when two approached me and asked me for dining recommendations. I was jolly about this until twenty minutes later I realized I'd only complicated their lives. Hopefully they're okay.
a man demolish the guts of a building and raise the smell of paint, dust, and chemical sheet rocking.
a barista nervously hold the shape of a coffee mug handle while her face smiled in apparent relaxation.
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This blog so easily falls apart into diary-ing. Which I don't want to do. So, along with posting the occasional bit of published matter, I am giving myself assignments each week. Monday is photo essay day. The assignment: Document part of the day in 3-10 photos.
So here we go:
Cassandra and I saw this on a whim-like sort of moment. This is the Columbian, movie department (there's also bar and a restaurant--best breakfasts in town and a man who looks a little bit like an edgy Bing Crosby keeps one perpetually in coffee). $4 movies, couches, pizza, and beer. The movie: Practically perfect in every way. It combined many things I love: stop motion, foxes, the character George Clooney always plays but is so good at that nobody ever cares, Wes Anderson aesthetics and a soundtrack worthy of glory.
Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw. Um. That's all I have to say about this one.
Really? Time for this now?
The end.
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"Well you better stop children what's that sound everyone look what's going down (low harmonic, high harmonic)" is playing in the coffee shop and I have coffee drinking and essay editing (if you're reading this, I mean you, Toby. Sorry it's taken me so long).
Go see Mr. Fox be fantastic.
Always enjoy your blog, diary-ing or not.
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