Sunday, September 12, 2004
MUSIC FOR A SUNDAY MORNING
Summer's hastening on
I'm trying to get a feeling from the city
But I've been unfaithful
I've been travelling abroad
We've got a fantasy affair
We didn't get wet, we didn't dare
Our aspirations, are wrapped up in books
Our inclinations are hidden in looks
--Belle & Sebastian, Dear Catastrophe Waitress
Alas, it is so true. Summer wanes, but not for lack of heat. The calendar in my apartment rests at August, not because I forget to change it, but because I don't want to. At the same time, I love September and everything that it brings with it: fresh apples, cool nights, the snapping and rustling sounds that twigs and leaves make underfoot while walking through woods, and the sky, the sky, the sky...
But lets not forget about the books. Those fresh books that the new school year necessitates, whether they be a weighty textbook, a blank hardback lab book, or a $4 pocket edition of Kafka's Metamorphosis.
I think I have been imagining that this autumn finds me back in school, having bought a superlative Semikolon; Tagesbuch [at the equally superlative Essence du Papier]. In addition to that, I have purchased no less than six books in the past week, which now adorn the table in my living room, arranged in a fashion that passes for neat but is ultimately less desirable than their desired destination: a third bookcase that I don't have and that I don't have room for even if I did have it. Oh, and I can't forget the fabulous bright orange book bag that I splurged on yesterday. Now I'm all set to go back to school. All I really need now is the Montblanc Franz Kafka pen and I'll be set. Well, I guess I need to be enrolled in a course or two for that to be the case.
Summer's hastening on
I'm trying to get a feeling from the city
But I've been unfaithful
I've been travelling abroad
We've got a fantasy affair
We didn't get wet, we didn't dare
Our aspirations, are wrapped up in books
Our inclinations are hidden in looks
--Belle & Sebastian, Dear Catastrophe Waitress
Alas, it is so true. Summer wanes, but not for lack of heat. The calendar in my apartment rests at August, not because I forget to change it, but because I don't want to. At the same time, I love September and everything that it brings with it: fresh apples, cool nights, the snapping and rustling sounds that twigs and leaves make underfoot while walking through woods, and the sky, the sky, the sky...
But lets not forget about the books. Those fresh books that the new school year necessitates, whether they be a weighty textbook, a blank hardback lab book, or a $4 pocket edition of Kafka's Metamorphosis.
I think I have been imagining that this autumn finds me back in school, having bought a superlative Semikolon; Tagesbuch [at the equally superlative Essence du Papier]. In addition to that, I have purchased no less than six books in the past week, which now adorn the table in my living room, arranged in a fashion that passes for neat but is ultimately less desirable than their desired destination: a third bookcase that I don't have and that I don't have room for even if I did have it. Oh, and I can't forget the fabulous bright orange book bag that I splurged on yesterday. Now I'm all set to go back to school. All I really need now is the Montblanc Franz Kafka pen and I'll be set. Well, I guess I need to be enrolled in a course or two for that to be the case.
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