Saturday, July 14, 2012

He likes that she says his name all of the time.  It's unfortunate that the dishes stay in the sink, and other indicators of trends, but then again, there's illness to blame.  He also knows he can come across poorly, condescending.  He is tired.

Meeting the drummers.   One looks like Kevin Kline and talks like Jude Law and is somehow associated or involved with a girl named Natasha with piercing blue eyes and strangely attractive jowls or dimples, deep smile lines really, speaking of tectonic smiles to be witnessed by a lucky few.  They come from Chicago and at first with his enormous shimmering nipple rings and their talk of making artisan drums welding and kiln-firing they don't seem very interesting at all, flashing nipple glint possibly blinding small children nearby.

But coming back wearing a kitten shirt Kevin Kline/Jude Law is strangely transformed.  Now they're talking about fun and fundraising, about spaces and rappelling and it turns out he and Natasha are avid spelunkers.  I suppress a giggle.  He stares into Natasha's eyes for a while as she tells him about fundraising to rappel off skyscrapers and certifications to clean oil off cooling towers.  Her excitement becomes infectious and he realizes he would gladly visit their big studio in Chicago.

And who really comes to such a bland part of New York to live at a nun's farm to take a drum workshop?  As one man passing through the kitchen explained to his cellular phone- lots of strange things going on.

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