December 2011
4 posts
Portrait of Anton Chekhov. Osip Braz, oil on canvas. 1898.
Fortune has it that I managed to procure a copy of Murakami’s 1Q84 just before the holidays so I can fully immerse myself within its smooth pages free of distractions. Well, at least until early January, though I’m hoping to have finished the enormous tome by then. (Currently hovering at 263 out of 925 pages, I really...
Lovers’ quarrel.
Soundtrack to take a walk to.
I’m officially finished the semester and now I get to indulge in all those personal projects I had to hastily cast aside earlier this month. Life is amazing.
Research.
Inspiration for a potential book project and photo series I hope to develop about a tragic hero businessman finding the delicate melancholy in such things as a bran muffin for one at precisely 7:52 a.m. or the meaninglessness of existence while crammed into his awkward seat on the subway. I don’t know. I somehow pictured my protagonist kind of like Jacques Tati. At the very least, he...