One of the subtle acts of adulthood is exploring and considering the fissures of our lives. Changes and voids, slender opportunities for varying types of decanting of our essence, or what we perceive to be our essence. Some will spend years amongst the larger rocks, trying to sweep them into the void through endless iterating, convinced there are angles in reducing mass. Others will live surface-side amongst the sharp pebbles, choosing a path of pain as a righteous cause. I have not quite decided where I sit in this spectrum, I know I’ve swept, sorted, and piled rocks in the manner that delights me, but cataloguing the moment is not truly succumbing to it.

Last day or two: Music From Big Pink/Joe McCoy Chinos/Rugged Scents/”Friendship really is a series of small forgivenesses” – Nick Cave on ankle boots, Fashion Neurosis

Waning Crescent

-30-