everything else: another letter about spring
dear internet,
“when did you become such a culture vulture?” my aunt said, when i looked at a modigliani and said, modigliani. she didn’t know i knew modigliani from the movie made of honor or that i don’t think art is about culture, i think it is about seeing. some of the only times i feel completely in the moment are in a museum, or facing the wrong way on a train, or in spring when the flowers are desperate, brazen, striving. yesterday when i woke my window was backlit from the sun and gleaming with dust. i think it is all right to be like this in april because everyone is like this in april, as i was taking a photo of the cherry blossoms a woman stopped to tell me to turn the corner and look at the narcissi, “they’ll be gone before you know it.” folie à tous. when i’m talking to my friends i reorient the conversation so that the sun is on my neck. i’ve been dressing for a season that has not yet arrived, and by the lake the other day we all stood in a line facing the water and briefly could not speak for the wind. it is unimaginable to me that people walk past the rabbits on the grass. even if they were rats i would stop to look. even if they were just rocks, or litter, or a shadow on the ground.
love,
t