heat on, windows open

I've been really fucking happy lately. peaceful. peaceful with myself, peaceful with the universe. lotuses from dirt 'n shit. this sensation is shamefully rare for me. this time I'm trying not to feel immediately wary about what details I must be missing. 

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it's black & white weather! my favorite of all the weathers! 

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Montlake. ever consider what the dullest neighborhood in Seattle might be? or at least the most blandly pleasant? Montlake would be the bronze medalist, after Laurelhurst and Magnolia. 

there is a cloister of brugmansia versicolor outside the UW greenhouses! they've been considered extinct in the wild since March 2014. I did not know this until I tried to just find these guys on the internets. I love these trees. they conjure up idealizations of a fancy 1950's tiki bar. 

django django! these guys were so good and so young. perhaps I am merely old? not as elderly as the fellow in front of us, at least 70, dancing in a suit. 

this was here when I sat down on the bus tonight. I left it. 

self-portrait with teapot. i quite like the wristiness. 

"how false it is to say that love is blind. I could even judge her, I could condemn her, I could even, in some possible galactic loop of thought, make her suffer. but this was still the stuff of paradise because I was a god and I was involved with her in some eternal activity of making to be which was of sole and absolute value. and with her the world was made, nothing was lost, not a grain of sand nor a speck of dust, since she was the world and I touched her everywhere." Iris Murdoch