a hothouse to lessen the evaporation of happenings

it occured to me that aphids, those vampires of the plant world, form something like braille on the plants they're eating. i've been thinking about braille, for i am going to paris, and the only restaurant we are dead set on eating at so far is "dans le noir," a pitch black restaurant with blind waiters and a surprise menu. years ago i learned of a restaurant of exactly this sort in germany, and i've been obsessed with the idea of it ever since.

it had not occurred to me until now that a blog was something i wanted. but now i'm excited to join the community of bloganisms, if only that it will make me feel accountable, and reteach me to record my slightest impressions. i have begun with a picture of my compost bin in the hopes that this blog will become a bin of this sort, a geological experiment of thoughts and impressions i might otherwise discard if left to my own devices. i must say graduate school did make me more of a ruthless editor of myself. this paired with my deep shame of garbage has resulted in a strengthened desire to not leave any traces of my former selves behind. perhaps this blog, like my compost bin, will change the way i feel about the rich and smelly stratum called the past, and its processes of disintegration, seasonal movements, and the liminal zones in between.