magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

the colour of poetry
i remember silent images
a nostalgia of places
ancient trees, woven
a flood of treasures discovered
hope rains in my heart
and in orpheus's black sleep:
piano and viola

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so rather than go back to the studio (i was there this morning, and there was something toxic in the air and i was feeling all lousy) i called george and talked on the phone for much too long. although i think that was also a better solution than going to the warehouse party that absolutely everyone else was going to.

worked my first saturday shift in the library this afternoon. started studying for the materials and methods mid-term. wrote the poem above from found words. talked with jen about pamela coleman smith and faerie tales.

and so tomorrow, i super have to spend time working in the studio. i've kinda wasted most of the weekend. i feel that since there's nothing really big due next week that i can slack a little, but that's just a bad place to be coming from.

and now, i'm up too late. wasting my extra hour of sleep. damn.