September 2005 Archives

The breeze that slips in through the window is cool, now. Soothing. I can hear the fountain in the pond: a soft tumbling of water. The Parkway is oceanic.

I'm a bit in need of a clean-up...but the day is bright and I'm thinking of taking some pictures. I feel slow inside. A bit dreamy.

Saturday, and the skies are pale.

I'm feeling, just a bit, like a worn-thin rug. Kind of threadbare and droopy.

The day was wide and beautiful. Warm, in the sun. I took some pictures of a statue, drank some coffee outside, and regarded the pond for a moment or two. The evening was less bright...

I think that sleeping will feel good tonight. Anyway:

Hello Autumn.

On the last day of Summer I heard bad news, twice.

I drank my coffee black.

I visited. I washed.

I made supper and I breathed the air.

On the last day of Summer, I took these pictures:

Here's to your return. And to a sweet and golden Autumn.

So, my mental soundtrack is looping "Tenderness", by General Public. Always liked that one.

I'm a bit tired. A bit worn. I kinda feel like shaking myself, like a dog coming out of the water. I should probably sleep.

But I don't want to.

Think I'll travel here, for a while...

Before I'm near the futon, I'm near four. Old songs in my head. A half-second dream of snowy whiteness, outside. Three five five ay em.

Time to get flat.

I'm kind of in a geek groove, today -- with a side dish of multimedia imagery.

News from the Tokyo Game Show is that Xenosaga III is in the works for the PlayStation 2. Cool. I've been enjoying the storytelling in that series and am curious to see how things will wrap up. Teasers about some next generation video games are also pushing my "Ooh, spiffy!" button (Metal Gear Solid 4 is touting some especially interesting ideas). I've also been digging the reviews and artwork of an anime series called, "Gilgamesh". Have to give that a view at some point...

Other than that, it's all cleaning and cranking Dido on the stereo, here. (And, by-the-way, I love the line: "Catch the snow on your tongue and show me how it tastes". Yummy.)

Here's to Fridays. And to weekends.

I've been a bit under the weather for the last two days (and am still feeling kinda slow and ache-y today).

But sky is bright. And the heat is saturating. I'm going to smell a rose and take a steamy shower.

And some asprin.

These moments are a slow pulse. (Pre-echoed: I've poured myself a glass of wine to smooth the minutes to velvet.) Closer: image diving on Flickr and wondering at the beauty. Now: writing this to night sounds...and very little else.

The weekend unfurled -- then drifted away. I finished Steven Gould's novel, Reflex today. It was very well done and entertaining. Later, I cooked-up some rice, veggies and tofu. Then warmed with the evening...

Now it is inky again. Quiet.

And I am unwinding.

Today is blue skies and sunshine, soft breezes and coffee-fueled cleaning-up for the Labor Day weekend.

The Summer has been pretty, for the most part. Sad at times -- but I'm thankful for what I've had. To think that the season is winding down is bittersweet. There were such sweet moments in it...

Here's to better times, a long golden Autumn, and to a very safe, happy and enjoyable holiday weekend.

Watching television and the Internet, talking with family members and friends about the devastating aftermath of hurricane Katrina, I am struck by how much of this was predictable -- yet how little of it was prepared for. We can spend six billion dollars a week in Iraq but, somehow, cannot have support systems in place for a disaster that we can watch rolling towards us for days on a satellite weather map. I recall how quickly aid was in place after other hurricanes and yet, three days after Katrina, people are dying of dehydration in New Orleans.

These people need help. They deserve and are entitled to help. The fact that that help is so fatally slow in getting to them is appalling and should call into question (on all levels) the competency and focus of the leadership in this country.

• To offer free shelter, locally, to those in need.
• The American Red Cross.
• FEMA's Katrina donations page.

Drifting deeper into the shadowy hours. No breeze through the window at the moment. Night sounds, out there. Crickets.

The TV is filled with the apocalyptic aftermath of Katrina. I'm thinking of all those people living in the dark down there. I'm thinking of how fragile things are. I wish them all help and safety.

Hello September, may things get better...