still-sound 196. Snowfeet

Brennan sent me this picture tonight.  He's in Wisconsin right now to spend Thanksgiving with family.  Last night I asked him if it was snowing there.  He hadn't come out of the plane yet so he couldn't answer my question with certainty.  A little while later he texted me, "I found the snow".

I can imagine the crunchy sound snow makes when you walk on it.

still-sound 195. Bark

My phone was stolen on Saturday.  I know who took it too.  I was working at the perfume store when a couple came in during the weekend rush.  An exaggeratedly flamboyant dude and his big gal pal.  They were larger than life and I enjoyed showing them fragrances.  They complained about the high prices in a comical way but were interested in smelling more and keeping their minds open.  My coworker Yvettra and I showed them countless fragrances and offered to make them samples.  I eventually had to concentrate on the other end of the store as more customers came in.

The store thinned out in the late afternoon.  Yvettra and I sat down and recapped the onslaught.  I told her how I liked the funny couple.  She made a face and said "I think they were up to something".  She explained how the dude was about to buy a perfume and took out his credit card, but then his sidekick whispered something to him and they abruptly left, saying that they wanted to go to an ATM to get cash. 

When Yvettra and I finished our chat I wondered where my phone was.  I hadn't seen it for a while...  Yvettra's face went blank and she uttered, "Steve....they took it!  I know they did!"

They did.  Or, at least Bonnie did and then whispered her misdeeds into Clyde's ear, prompting them to scram. 

I walked to T-Mobile down the street to put a block on the phone.  I described what had happened.  One guy working there said that he knew exactly whom I was talking about.  He saw them at the bus stop yesterday.  They were unmissable.  They were casing the street.  The girl and the dude with the huge hand bag.

I got a new phone because I'm 100% completely dependent on my phone - like an external organ.  I took pictures of trees in Elysian Park because my stolen phone had a nice textury bark picture as its wallpaper.  I wanted to recreate it.  

I loved the outcome.  The very first additions to my new camera reel.  I bet you want to know which picture I eventually chose as my wallpaper.  You'll have to steal my phone to find out.

still-sound 194. Echo Park

I've written so little in this blog lately.  I blame Instagram.  I also blame my search for a new house.  Since midsummer I've spent most of my free time looking at ugly places online and visiting them in real life.  I might be moving rather soon.  It depends on a lot of things.  But it's likely.

I will miss my neighborhood - especially Elysian Park.  When I run, I ascend several hills and can see the 5 freeway for miles.  It's almost always packed and I think to myself how glad I am that I'm not stuck in the traffic.

It's usually dark by the time I finish my run.  Once I saw a little light in the distance that kept changing color.  As I approached it I realized that it was dangling from the collar of a little dog.  The dog probably wore the light to help the owner find him when walking in the dark.  It offered little help that night since the dog seemed to be alone.  I tried getting closer in the hopes of finding a tag on his collar, but he scurried away.  I even made little clicky noises - something Rosie usually likes and responds to - to no avail.  I continued my run and found a little search party at the bottom of the hill.  They also spotted the lost dog and were trying to capture him.

As I got closer to my apartment building I noticed nice shadows on the pavement.  The streetlights cast them.  There will likely be shadows in my new neighborhood too.  But I will still miss Echo Park.

 

still-sound 193. First day

These are cypress trees near the perfume shop where I work.  I pass them some evenings when I walk Rosie around the block.  Now it's getting dark and the trees look inky.  Soon there will be no traces of the sun at 7 pm.

Today is the first day of autumn. It feels like it too.

still-sound 192. Wrapping books

One of the things I like most from buying art and design books at Stories, the used book store in Echo Park is that the dust jackets are usually protected in archival plastic film.  The crinkling sound that comes along with handling the books is delightful. 

I bought a roll of the plastic film online and spent at least an hour last night wrapping some of my favorite books - particularly the old ones I took from my mom's house on a recent trip - mostly photography books that my dad bought in the late 1970s.  I grew up with them and couldn't begin to guess how many times I leafed through the pages and stared at the glamorous pictures.  Now, coated in a plastic sheen, the printed colors of the dust jackets pop out with a rich saturation.  Any rips, creases or crinkles in the paper are forever frozen and somehow lessened  - protected under a cool glossiness.

I wrapped 7 or 8 books last night.  I lay them on the table when finished and just stared at them.

still-sound 191. Robots and birds

Isn't this robot scary?  I like that it's made of wood.  Not necessarily the obvious choice of materials when creating a robot.  I wonder if in Olden Days robots were made of wood and springs and cogs?  Probably not.

My friend, and brilliant poet Jane Yeh wrote an incredible poem about robots in her last book called The Ninjas.  I bought it a couple of months ago and have read it several times - often before going to bed.  This is from The Robots:

In robot language, 'I' and 'you' are the same word.

I love this line the best in the poem.  This pertains to all robots.  Those made of wood and those made of kevlar and microchips I suppose.

***

I was so happy to discover that Jane shares my fascination with birds.  They often appear in her writing. I'm surprised I didn't already know this.  But I suppose we never really had aviary conversations in person.  In the poem Last Summer, she writes


Birds were cheeping and tweeting like crazy.
(Their lungs are so small they can't make complete sentences.)
In the trees they perched like tiny balloons, feet tethered to the branches


Tomorrow is Jane's birthday.  Tomorrow is already today in London where she lives.  So I wish her, with my big and full lungs, the happiest birthday.

still-sound 190. Saturday morning

When I came out of the bedroom this morning at 7:30, the windows in the living room were white with fog.  By the time I finished a cup of coffee and finished telling Rosie the pug how pretty she was, the sun had started to burn through the moisture.

I'm going to celebrate my dad's birthday tonight by cooking shrimp scampi - the dish he would make for me when I'd visit him at his house.  

Today I'll wear a tie.