Wednesday, January 10

• The warm heft of Y. cuddling up against me in the morning. The perfectly round curve of the back of her head. 
• The sudden flash of the kumquats, reflected in the puddle of last week's rain.
• The woman sitting across me in the bus, bright magenta eyeshadow all the way to her eyebrows against a makaup-less face, naked lips pursed, skin sallow. A huge clashing red and peach flower on her shirt, large rings on every finger. She is shaking her body continously.
• the receding plaster walls of the painted sides of the houses,a  palette of earth-tones moving from ochre, to sienna, to a deep brown-purple.

• the intercticies between the lines of laundry, creating deep shadows beneath. A kind of cubist shallow space, moving in and out, in a subdued paletteof quiet color.