Wednesday, January 26, 2005
It is a cold night in the city, a night full of wandering around dirty slush mazes, feeling the wind blow up our legs no matter how carefully we layer and bundle, bracing ourselves for more snow and ice and bad news. It might be a paltry gesture to fight back by looking at these sunflowers, which I found at the farmer's market in Eureka Springs during my time in Arkansas last summer, but it works for me: those flowers, those scallions, those herbs, even that yogurt, they all bring me back to a day in late June, when the air was warm and wet, when bees the size of soybean pods looped through the branches of the mimosa tree outside my bedroom window, when I was awakened every morning by the ridiculously beautiful perfume of those fuzzy purple mimosa blossoms, when I was expected to spend the day writing and that's exactly what I did, when the day was full of beauty and the future was full of bright and promising things.
No. Bak, m’love. You’re fooling yourself. It’s all darkness and dreariness and slush. Taxicabs swerving to hit puddles to intentionally splash pedestrians. Life is muddy and dirty and cold and dark. This could continue for months. In fact given global climate change, it might never get better. Spring may never come. It’s time to face the demons and learn to live with the misery. There’s nothing we can do about any of it. Don’t even bother.
Yours truly,
=Marvin
I’ve said it so much it’s becoming a biorhythm—not that I’m complaining, though—thank you all for your lovely thoughts. It’s still bitter cold here, but I’m getting sneaky little doses of sunshine, mostly in the form of vigorous exercise and snacks of blood oranges, and those sneaky little doses are starting to pay off.
Mr. Elisson, we’re waiting for pictures of that pie, sir… 
And to the fabulous ladysankofa...Mary, it’s so nice to see you around here, taking a little breather from the day-to-day hilarity of academia. I owe all of my WCDH pals a call. I had big plans to send them a basket of vegan goodies for Christmas—do you know how many things I baked that Jan and Sean were unable to eat?—but I found myself kind of blindsided by the holidays this year. I might still try to send them something, if they don’t think I’m some miserable ingrate who doesn’t send Xmas presents. But yes, say hi to them, and to all our Chelsea’s and Sparky’s buddies, and the Eureka Market folks, and that angry lady at the bookstore. And yes, I will screw up my courage and go see Hotel Rwanda, which I’ve been nervous about seeing, but I know it needs to be seen.
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No. Bak, m’love. You’re fooling yourself. It’s all darkness and dreariness and slush. Taxicabs swerving to hit puddles to intentionally splash pedestrians. Life is muddy and dirty and cold and dark. This could continue for months. In fact given global climate change, it might never get better. Spring may never come. It’s time to face the demons and learn to live with the misery. There’s nothing we can do about any of it. Don’t even bother.
Yours truly,
=Marvin