The crisp air is breathtaking. Above are just a taste of my rambles today with only my little cameraphone in hand. My new favorite haunt is the overcrowded, musty interior of a little junk shop on Hawthorne. Once upon a time there were places like this everywhere in Portland, but those days are long past and Really Good Stuff is one of the very few remaining. In fact, I don't know any place quite as deliciously junk-y.


I saw the branches of a birch strung out against the wind today; allpulling, reaching, one way; and yellow yellow laughter against the lavender, or is it grey, flat hard sky. The spirits of Things talk today. They pull that weight in my middle - that watery black depth with rattling chain - seeking to be full. The song of the day is this. and above, photography by bloom,grow,love and a very old picture of coco chanel, because she is that beautiful.
go catch some thoughts as the skies darken and the days grow cold
before you know it, december will be here.

Margaret, are you grieving
Over goldengrove unleaving?

The fall is all together too cold, but intensely beautiful. Above - a glimpse of the fruits of a recent caper abroad with cameraphone in hand. My Diana F+ reproaches me for my neglect, but alas, she lacks film so there is nothing to be done. I'm rather taken at the moment with coptic textiles, like this, the quiet strains of Elliot Smith, and the impressive life of this woman (not in reference to the movie, which was rather lacking).