Onset of colder, darker days maybe?
Oh This sounds happy. Everything I see or read about this week seems to be pointing to depressing tales of dismal German artists. Maybe I need to purchase that book along with Klaus Kinski's autobiography and snuggle in for some dark and silent winter reading.
Or maybe not. Sounds as appealing as a Ingmar Bergman film fest to me. Not that I don't respect Bergman's work but I can only take these things in small doses. I have friends who will devour all of the above in large amounts but I am too morose by nature to immerse myself in lugubrious meditations.
Give me sitcoms. Give me red wine. Give me colorful sparklies and kitsch. Ginger. Caffeine. Minty freshness.
I still end up celebrating the dark underbelly more than the next person.
I don't feel especially dark this week. I'm just noticing a lot of this sort of stuff swirling around me lately.
Purple Punk Rocker from Atlanta, Georgia. Now just a faded Goth Ghost in High Point, North Carolina. Missing my old haunts while looking for a new one.
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