Someone rather new and special drew this for my wall. It's the first creative piece anyone has ever made expressly for me, and it makes me quite happy. He once saw a punk rocker crying on the 253 bus featured in the drawing, which is the bus that traverses the piece of London between our homes. The bear is modeled after Bea the bear, my faithful moozling companion since '83.
I love it, especially the cool contrast of styles.
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I'm listening to NPR tonite, and it's making me homesick something awful. I miss listening to jazz in the car with my dad on long rides to the suburbs, I miss driving down the awe-inspiring stretch of Lake Shore Drive between its northern-most tip and downtown, I miss walking Logan Square boulevard with mom and tahti on the way to a pumpkin latte.
Listening to poetry online is making me feel better about my world, though. I just discovered that you can listen to readings at the Poetry Foundation website. Yosef Komunyakaa and Elizabeth Bishop are responsible for the words wafting around my room this Sunday evening. Lovely.
A stroll around Kensington...
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