we're just doing this.

conversation.

This image is actually completely relevant.

mum: It's really, really good and heading towards lovely, which is better than great.

me: well. thank you. it's the lovely part that has me worried--it's really nice all up there in my head, but translating that to paper is proving difficult.

mum: Oh, yeah, that thing called writing.

me: All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.

        Hemingway.

mum: And figure out a way to do that without making a mess.

            Leeches?

then I found forever.

  THAT'S WHAT'S UP by EDWARD SHARPE + THE MAGNETIC ZEROS

Ran away for the weekend and took maybe all of seven pictures to prove it (and most involve prints and patterns from my yearly Papersource pilgrimage, at that), which should probably be taken as testament to my unparalleled love of sea, sun, and family. (All three in one place? Nothing. Better.) But here's a pretty parting shot from our beloved T-Street, with the promise that I'll get back to real blogging just as soon as finals finish.

In the meantime, here's some seventies sound in honor of sunshine and happiness. Love and love.

belated.

Neon pink spray paint. A cast-off card from the art museum. An honest-to-goodness true line from an actual book that really said this, no edit necessary. How could I not.

Also, mugwumpery is a real word. As is mugwumpish, or the delightfully rhythmic mugwumpian. 

And people ask me what I'm going to do with my English degree.