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17 Oct 2006
we were given three chapters of don quixote today, and i didn't find a single sentence i could understand from beginning to end without cracking my dictionary. ( blah blah school )
also even though it's going to get a lot darker before it gets lighter again here, i think this is really the worst season in åbo. it probably won't get snowy for another month at least, but it's sort of... not exactly rainy but threatening-rainy all the time. give me snow already! the threatening-rainy always makes me feel like i'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. and like i know that it is going to be a chilly, wet, and unpleasant shoe.
i've been haunted lately by this very strange story idea that would be unlike most of my more recent writiing, bittersweet and angsty, moody, possibly melodramatically imagery-laden (although that part hopefully not, i'm just saying because i know myself). it's ten years in the future looking back obliquely on a breakup. the idea is persistent and persistently non-specific; i'm not having any real thoughts about plot, just scenes that are so short they are practically still images. but i keep thinking about this universe, its backstory, the mindframes of the characters; often not in specific terms, but almost as if i'm thinking it in a feeling. i don't know exactly how this works, but, for example, i'll be looking at a photograph, or kicking some fallen leaves on the sidewalk, or i'll hear a song, and i'll suddenly draw a connection between the facial expressions in the photo, or the carpet of fallen leaves, or the chorus of the song, and this idea, and it will be a brief but intense flaring feeling of connection. somehow the idea moves me - but i don't know what about it.
also even though it's going to get a lot darker before it gets lighter again here, i think this is really the worst season in åbo. it probably won't get snowy for another month at least, but it's sort of... not exactly rainy but threatening-rainy all the time. give me snow already! the threatening-rainy always makes me feel like i'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. and like i know that it is going to be a chilly, wet, and unpleasant shoe.
i've been haunted lately by this very strange story idea that would be unlike most of my more recent writiing, bittersweet and angsty, moody, possibly melodramatically imagery-laden (although that part hopefully not, i'm just saying because i know myself). it's ten years in the future looking back obliquely on a breakup. the idea is persistent and persistently non-specific; i'm not having any real thoughts about plot, just scenes that are so short they are practically still images. but i keep thinking about this universe, its backstory, the mindframes of the characters; often not in specific terms, but almost as if i'm thinking it in a feeling. i don't know exactly how this works, but, for example, i'll be looking at a photograph, or kicking some fallen leaves on the sidewalk, or i'll hear a song, and i'll suddenly draw a connection between the facial expressions in the photo, or the carpet of fallen leaves, or the chorus of the song, and this idea, and it will be a brief but intense flaring feeling of connection. somehow the idea moves me - but i don't know what about it.