Give us a tune.

I had myself a mess of dreams last night. Sleeping fitfully does not contribute very forcefully to wanting to wake up. But I awoke often, so the jarring was deadened. I was sure I would rise with a hangover, but I felt no such thing. Instead, I was up and doing laundry and appreciating the way the sunlight streams through the glass in the French doors and makes the leaves on the bushes seem translucent in an electric sort of way.

I want to go somewhere where there is ice cream.

This photo made me think of those certain German and Russian expressionists whose paintings were all shadowy angles and awkward points of view. I used to sketch angles with a soft pencil and pretend I knew where the shadows were meant to fall.