katz: a continuing problem


which is what happens after about five minutes of petting them.




and so.



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I am here and not here

there is not enough time.

I said I would not stop blogging, and I'll be damned if I do, but apparently we're experiencing a bit of a lull.

even this morning I don't really have the time to do this, but still I must say something.

about the spring, about the anticipation of exciting thunderstorms we're supposed to be having today, about depart-ment this weekend, about random whatevers, whatever I can grab as it floats through the air during the few minutes I have allocated myself this morning.

I left my landlord a note about the tippy toilet well over a week ago, and still no response.

I wrote a paper letter on old letterpress stationary bearing their address (then mine) to my friends heal and maggie and received back a glorious, close-written, illustrated, addended letter in reply, which I am reading ever so slowly, in part aloud, so as to savor.

my car is clean. or was recently. I know you can't believe it. me neither, 'cept I was there when it happened.

my life is scattered entirely over two apartments, one with very little available neighborhood parking but with notable benefit of proximity to one Great Lake.

the cats are shooting me a lot of evil looks and shedding, I think, extra-hard on purpose. little do they know what I have planned for iggy on sunday.

george's toenails are short. I know you can't believe this either, but it too is true.

companywide meeting to hear about the new 401k program this morning at 8:30, so I must now say ENOUGH, hit Save, and dash.

ta DA!

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lately: texture

all about it, and tonight it's prickly, sour on the edges– it's a shapely wicked thing. I keep seeing patterns, though not my own. why this urge for hyperarticulated definition? is it all the sourcing laser cutters and wire vendors– bending this way and that with the whims of, too often, others? one of those days, yes. how describe it. how describe. alphabets unwind on me, zigging nonsense– shapely, yes. such a crooked pasta. trails get lost with perspective. I want to be rounder and rounder and still sharp and dimensional.

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