Sometime, I intend to write a book with this title. Here are some small loves:
White washes. The smell of laundry and the crinkled cotton. Particularly - two people folding linen, the little dance they do back and forth.
Letters and parcels from abroad. The stamps and labels and customs declarations, the scars of the journey.
Lime. In vodka and soda, on monkfish, with rum and mint. It makes everything taste promising.
The exact moment of dusk falling, with a pink sky and neon scribbles, streetlights on when its still light.
Light shops - you know, the ones where you go to buy lampshades or candelabras or chandeliers or spotlights, when there's a thousand bulbs burning and crystals hanging elegantly everywhere and you are bathed in dazzling light. I never buy anything, I just wander about like a disco ball junkie, smiling.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
'Dot' by Jim Hodges, 1999