syllables

i take solace in words. unlike most i do not imagine the goins-on of a book cinematically; rather, the words flow over me like a hot shower. language - the sound and the weight of it - has long transfixed me. the exquisite translations of pablo neruda's poetry and amos oz's the same sea are gems in my ever-expanding, resplendent literary closet.

currently: the pulitzer prize-winning amazing adventures of kavalier&clay by the effervescent michael chabon of wonder boys fame; i have dipped my toe in james r. gaines' evening in the palace of reason and am intrigued.

we survive in installations, between moments, amongst one another and yet quite alone.

in a few weeks, i will toast the new york sunset on a park slope roof, smiling slightly in the face of a stranger who is my roommate. i will get a public library card, walk the streets to get a sense of place, join the ranks of brooklyn-manhattan rush hour commuters. i will thrive.