reasons to love rain
Because even when it looks like this:
Rain is still so romantic (especially as a metaphor for teen love):
I GUESS YOU ARE KIND OF CURIOUS as to who I am, but I am one of those who do not have a regular name. My name depends on you. Just call me whatever is in your mind.
If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you a question and you did not know the answer.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was raining very hard.
That is my name.
Or somebody wanted you to do something. You did it. Then they told you what you did was wrong—”Sorry for the mistake,”—and you had to do something else.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was a game that you played when you were a child or something that came idly into your mind when you were old and sitting in a chair near the window.
That is my name.
Or you walked someplace. There were flowers all around.
That is my name.
Perhaps you stared into a river. There was somebody near you who loved you. They were about to touch you. You could feel this before it happened. Then it happened.
That is my name.
― Richard Brautigan, Watermelon Sugar. I spent the last two days researching watermelons - made me think of this novella.
All the World is Green - Tom Waits
Sunny, warm days spent with Tom Waits…those are my favorites.
The Treehouse Song - Ane Brun
I should be working, but instead I’m in the studio making things. I’ve been listening to this song on repeat all day. Ane Brun is a Norwegian songwriter, guitarist, and vocalist currently living in Stockholm (don’t get me started on my admiration for Swedish ladies and their music), but I think she can sound shockingly like Dolly Parton.
ceramics
Kaye Blegvad is making ceramics now, and I love ‘em. Also, my birthday is day after tomorrow…..ahem.
ESPO gets it again.
Summer dreams. (Thanks Margaret Howell)
Laura Bird’s ceramics.
