cold ghosts

finite sets; pen and ink on paper (page from an old math textbook).

Reading Raymond Carver's Where I'm Calling From and Haruki Murakami's After the Quake and Kafka on the Shore. Both writers bleed on their pages but the former is that thick American stuff, that noir stuff at the heart of their history, while the latter is thinner and slower, more like a seeping ghost.

In the supermarket yesterday watching a mother ask her five year-old what he wanted for supper. Unsurprisingly, he wanted the purple stuff.

My back is getting better, slowly but surely. It seems to be more of a sitting or prone problem than a vertical or moving problem; I stood for four hours at my easel yesterday and walked away with a whistle.

They've got Bono and Bob Geldof as special guest editors of The Globe and Mail today. Making me wince. Apparently, it's all for the sake of Africa. I hope someone's told the Africans. (The best part was where they showed all the covers their design staff came up with for this feature. Some were quite good. Of course, they picked the most "inclusive", and the most banal.)

Drove over to Brockville to see Cousin Jane on Saturday, as she was visiting friends there. What a stretchy-neck town. I tortured C with it, pointing out all the houses with little towers and vine-covered walls and thirty-foot verandas.

Cold -- March-like cold -- all weekend, this wind blowing all the blue out of the sky. They warned us about snow but it never came, just holding off on the horizon.

Comments

  1. Weird, right now I'm reading Haruki Murakami's "The Wind-up Bird Chronicles." It just goes on and on. I finished "Norwegian Wood" last week. I liked that one, because it was super super depressing.

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  2. lovely drawing and post.

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  3. he looks pensive...sweet drawing

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  4. I like the drawings on old math texts,,I couldn't get my math texts resold from the University..could be cool drawing or alteredbooks projects

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  5. Great drawing, very light and atmospheric...

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  6. this drawing, the title and the math book reminds me of the sad and eerie "ID" - a short story by Joyce Carol Oates in the New Yorker in the March issue. Since also the German weather is not made for writers or artists only a green painted wet stage for tousled blossoms i hope that it will better soon at least in Ontario. for the time being i hope thoughts will be as dekicious as that of certain babies you commented upon in we-0007.

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  7. Nice drawing and very interesting story. Keep them coming.^^

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  8. it's really awesome:D love it

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  9. Cold here too, that won't help a back will it? but the saint bonoandgeldof combo always sends a shiver up my spine

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  10. don't ask if you don't want input is what i am mentally telling grocery store mama....

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