Hello Friends

Lights up to reveal a beautiful-gloomy, rainy friday! The soil is so drenched that the earthworms are creeping their slimy little way along the concrete, and the sky is so dark that lights have to be turned on inside even thought it's twelve o'clock. May I say, without irony (and thus far, I swear that this is has not been ironic!) that these are the days I live for. I worry about actually doingthis because the surfeit of rain may leave even my memories water logged, but I'd love to move northwards, to Seattle, or better yet, the Scottish moors, to have a continuous drizzle. I love the green and fog and the way the bark of the big trees gets darker and darker as the rain progresses.

So I've been wondering what I want to focus on in my studies for the next two years. I thought about Nabokov, but that would necessitate the learning of Russian, and Russian has a whole other alphabet. Godard jumps to mind, but he's film, and I don't know if I can get those old snobs in the english department to let me do that. Ah, I really know nothing of how majors work, I just know I'm overdo to declare.

I've also been wondering about my next home. Where will I move, how many compromises must I make? I want an old house/apartment, with one to two rooms and a kitchen. It must be functioning, unlike the crapshoot I know reside in, it must be beautiful, and it must be made before world war I. I've decided I want to make a film around World War I, not about the war, but around it. The characters will all be very bohemian intellectual types, and a third of the way through the film, the war breaks out, and they have to deal with it, travelling about Europe, trying to escape the nonsense but being dragged into it. It would be a big film.