16.6.22

Imponderables

Last year I had the pleasure of going to Imagine Van Gogh, and while there have been similar exhibitions for Picasso and Kahlo, I haven't felt their oeuvre really needs to be experienced in the same way.  Monet, on the other hand... so I've been following the Imagine Monet account, waiting for the day they bring the exhibit to the US, preferably to the East Coast and within driving distance.

And yet, those darn algorithms: 



8.6.22

Digital Detritus, summer edition

Some of these have been hanging around since last year, when blogging vanished due to COVID and life not meshing well.  So here's an attempt to make the summer this year a little more "normal".

6.6.22

Notable Quotes

She could not quite make up her mind whether or not she wanted to be a ghost who would haunt the convent or not.  It would be very satisfying to be a sad-eyed, beautiful ghost who drifted through the halls, gazing up at the moon and weeping silently, as a warning to other young women.  On the other hand, she was still short and round faced and sturdy, and there were very few ghost stories about short, sturdy women.  Marra had not managed to be pale and willowy and consumptive at any point in eighteen years of life and did not think she could achieve it before she died.  Possibly it would be better to have songs made about her...

It had occurred to her about an hour earlier that she did not know how the minstrels would find out that she existed in order to write the sad songs in the first place, and her mind was somewhat occupied with the problem.  Did you write them letters?

Nettle & Bone, T. Kingfisher

4.6.22

Imponderables (the angry edition)

I've been so angry all week, following the shooting in Uvalde.  The conflicting accounts of what happened are infuriating, but that's not what I find the most egregious.  

Texas has this mythology about how everything is bigger and better there.  And yet, in the moment, the police just stood there - these "first responders", these men steeped in Texas gun culture, just stood there.  Waiting.

On September 11, 2001, Thing One saw hundreds of firefighters and police run into the World Trade Center buildings, knowing that it was never going to end well. 

And that difference makes me sick.  It should make everyone sick.