It's a 70 degree November day outside, makes me think of when I lived in New Orleans in the winter. Especially since it rained last night and it's damp under the leaves leaving a musty smell in the air. I'm glad Monday's mean nothing to me.
This is my dad in 1976. Check out the photo cube he is holding with the photo of my mom. 30 years later his office still looks the same and I just realized that mine looks terribly similar. We become our parents so easily in so many strange ways.
Watched Michelangelo Antonioni's The Passenger on Saturday. Slow and gorgeous.
{{{"What are you running away from?"}}}
This is my dad in 1976. Check out the photo cube he is holding with the photo of my mom. 30 years later his office still looks the same and I just realized that mine looks terribly similar. We become our parents so easily in so many strange ways.
Watched Michelangelo Antonioni's The Passenger on Saturday. Slow and gorgeous.
{{{"What are you running away from?"}}}
Yesterday at brunch I noticed the work of artist and friend James Franklin in the NY Times magazine (he used to be based out of Milwaukee). And, just a few weeks back I spotted the work of The Little Friends of Printmaking in an ad in the Sunday magazine too, pretty rad.
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