Euphony for Dummies
As we say in Potpoupolis, it’s always May 31 somewhere. Let us boogie.
Sleep Creep
My sleep schedule is wacky right now. I’m getting enough sleep, thank Manwë, but I’m falling asleep and waking up at irregular times (which might actually be regular times for a human circadian rhythm). Maybe I need to stop working nights.
Frontières Sans Médicaments
Art is great medicine for the intangible injuries of the soul, but lately I’m chewing on the puzzle of what life might mean outside the confines of great art. Something about existing in tune with my body, remembering how to share space and grace with others, et cetera.
“In the mountains, there you feel free.”
Dara can have a little of T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land, as a treat. The poem was hugely influential on me in college and I incorporated aspects of it into my first novel, which is still languishing in a drawer somewhere. Maybe one day I’ll have a keener sense of what to do with it.
“Come in, the water’s warm.”
I’m in love Jamila Woods’ song “Headfirst,” a relaxed exhortation to slower and steadier forms of love. I find a lot to admire and resonate with in her lyrics.
Sterile Aroma
From “alstroemeria” I derived the anagram “sterile aroma.”
It’s not totally off base, as they aren’t the most olfactory of flowers. But they are lovely, and they endure, and that heartens me.
—Dara Khan