i love the sound of a storm raging outside. but i've been hearing the sound for days now. i keep thinking of onibaba. sound plays an important role in that film. the sound of pigeons and the sound of wind in the desolate stretches of reeds. if i take to writing spooky short fiction the wind will have a place in it.
i've been having very vivid and strange dreams. they're good material for something though i don't know what. i used to have a perfectly preserved songbird skull. i found it under a palm tree. presumably it came from the gut of a barn owl. it was so delicate. translucent. pretty. i lost it somehow. but it keeps appearing in my dreams.
things which have been inspiring me/pleasing me in various ways recently:
a particular very green/leafy violet scent. marionettes. the red string which comes crocheted into the seams of the cat's food bags. bird automatons. camphor glass. claude verlinde. pacific chorus frogs. real maple syrup. snow! canary yellow. slate blue. impending kite season. the memory of one specific may day celebration on a hilltop with poppies blooming and cake and tea. a tornado i narrowly missed and an earthquake which i did not miss (it sounded like a cannon!). my lonely bicycle bell. the carriage house. warm socks. geta. hugs.
the last one was precious. i'm sorry. but it's so.