Subjectivism

today in Choy Lai Fut class I am getting through horse stance by imagining every boat and car possesing a voice, sotto and alto and all in between, the childlike chords of yappy animism, counting down from one minute to zero as my knees bang and thighs rattle.

Drinking before dark

a spot on day at the Fisher place – after long morning and the farmer’s market I head to Jess’s, start with a rather insipid Italliano bought at Whole Foods but then move on to his sweet sweet Temeculah Frangipani, then he pulls the end of his anniversary bottle from the fridge. Now a bottle, maybe a bit more down, and we’re into Toasted Head’s Chardonnay. A few glasses of which leads to merlot, and finnaly at sundown I stop drinking, somewhere close to 2 bottles of wine in a little over eight hours. good show.