1.) this lamp/swing.
2.) looking down from a great height.
3.) just missing a bus.
4.) waking up from oversleeping.
5.) kissing someone for the first time.
6.) running a yellow light.
7.) being caught taking a picture in a place where photographs are not allowed (you didn't know).
there is no real equivalent to "me, myself, and i" in french, at least none that laure, my french teacher, could think of. technically, this translates to "me, myself, and me." nonetheless, i love the way it sounds. it makes me want to make up a song out of it, a song of myself. a different one than walt's. waltz. a very ordinary sentence like "the last time i saw your glasses they were in the desk drawer" reaches such musical heights when it's said in french: "elles etaient sur la table la derniere fois que je les ai vues." no wait. that's another sentence: "they were on the table the last time i saw them." they are no longer on the table. the glasses keep moving in a very mysterious manner: "la derniere fois que j'ai vu votre lunettes, elles etaient dans le tirior du bureau." these are the things that songs are made of: the ordinary turned suddenly mysterious again. the surprise so familiar, it is almost foreign.
3191: a year of mornings is my favorite photo blog. the premise is this: two friends who live 3191 miles apart each post a photo every morning, creating an unplanned diptych that, every day, is sumptuous and inspiring. the photos mostly capture fragments of what is ordinary about mornings: crusts of leftover bread on a plate, a toy left on the floor, rings left by a water glass on the counter. the trouble with the things i see everyday is that i cease to see how lovely they are. i get to thinking i need to go somewhere else when i want to find interesting things. 3191 always reminds me how i can elevate the ordinary in my own life, and see even the most mundane things with a fresh and admiring eye.
