"I drove all night."

My sister and I were lamenting the fact that Celine Dion is singing Cyndi Lauper's song in these intolerable car commercials. What made anyone think that Celine Dion singing in a car would make me want to buy it? I feel as if I never want to buy anything again. And she's putting her kid in the commercials, too? I should go check on eBay and see if she's selling off bits of her DNA, as well. My advice? Keep it, lady. There's enough of you in the world.

I had Rothko paintings in the eye of my brain today. For some reason. Glorious, genius, tragic Rothko. There's a painting of his at a nearby museum, and when I look at it, I feel as if it is me on that canvas. Flesh and blood and white stuff. I once knew euphoria at his hand.

Ice cream did not find me. But many other pleasant things did.

His surfaces were velvety as poems of the night.