currently learning

吉田 遠志 Yoshida Tōshi, Autumn in Hakone Museum (1954)

What autumn in Paris looks like : cozy bookshops, ladybug visits and long walks through the city 🍂

october, finally

spent one of the season's rainiest days sipping coffee, catching up reading and making sense of old notes

The first few books this year have been coincidentally red. With Tom Holland’s Dominion, I’ve found myself reading history that I’m not entirely familiar with and that isn’t strictly my business or about me. In other words, I’ve been able to have pure fun with this one. Elena Knows by Claudia Piñeiro pierced through me. I’ve often described books as cascading, and this was one of them. Finally, addressing my fascination with archives: the Asia Society’s 1968 issue of its journal, Contemporary India. The issues it contends with are at once similar, familiar, and so far away: foodgrain shortages, Cold War rivalries, and India’s border disputes.

Another photo from my camping trip and some more notes about neurogenesis.

black iced americano

𝔰𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤

we've been getting sunshine again and I'm big time living for it

finished butter—thinking about hunger, cooking, being alone—so much swirling in me—read a bunch of papers on making borders—thinking about imagining spatial bounds of freedom—something is crashing together in my head, don't know what yet

a snowy saturday morning ✧ all the lovers in the night might be the best book i read this year, and it’s only january 11!

i understand there is limited time in a day but if you're going to celebrate platonic love then do it with your whole chest, you cowards. call your friends your valentines and spend time with them that day and give them flowers. you don't need to make up a cutesy version that sends a clear and unambiguous message that "oh, don't worry, this is my FRIEND, this isn't serious real love" so that amatonormativity can be sufficiently upheld. blech. yes i am speaking in an echo chamber yes i'm difficult to please. but i'm also right

good morning!

wednesday what’s in my bag

Skip Whitcomb, A Winter Evening Walk Home, No Left Turn, 2024, Pastel on handmade paper

december mornings + afternoons