I think I need more sleep. I put ketchup in the bowl today instead of washing up liquid.
As we’d say around here, it’s been chucking it down all day. Which translates as ‘it’s been pouring with rain’.
And so, I spent the afternoon inside, watching the first of this two-part documentary:
It passed the time while confined to the house, and I love most of the artists that are covered in it.
Music illustrates our individuality. It’s as though you don’t pick the kind of music that you like, the music picks you. You can have the same background as me, we can share the same context and life experiences, but what turns you on can turn me off, and vice versa. Certain styles speaks to each of us differently. We react to that which moves us the most.
August is coming to a close. Summer is coming to a close. With the night closing in, I’ve started this new book.
Some time back I read and enjoyed Johnson’s short novella, Train Dreams, and thought I’d give his collection of short stories a try.
I have heard of a woman who claimed that she once fell in love with a man because he recommended this book to her. Again – individuality. He searched his memory of every book that he’d read before, and somehow struck the jackpot. Found the one for the one.
The pressure, though, of getting it right. I wouldn’t fancy my chances.
Anyway, that’s enough for now, I’m only one story in. The rain is still tapping on my window.