wet saturday morning. I was dancing in the ballet studio. live piano accompanying. rain drops beating the roof. only cozy...
on every rare occasion of rain in LA, I'm a victim affected. affectioned. mind infinitely wonders: where were the snows of yesteryear...
for we have thought the longer thoughts
and gone the shorter way.
and we have danced to devil's tunes
shivering home to pray;
to serve one master in the night,
another in the day.
and gone the shorter way.
and we have danced to devil's tunes
shivering home to pray;
to serve one master in the night,
another in the day.
- ernest hemingway (1899-1961)
A big fan
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