it was unseasonably warm, blue, + sunny. so, of course i came home and ate strawberry banana sorbet outside.

i love sorbet (i so under appreciated it!). i'd eat a whole quart by myself, if i didn't have to share (or know that i'll have a stomach-ache later).

reading patti smith's Just Kids memoir. i sort of got it impulsively at costco when i was home visiting in december. i had caught the tail-end of a review on NPR, and must admit that i hadn't listened to smith since my teens ('cause i'm an old man now!). she writes about her experiences and relationships without any sense of show-offy-ness or pretension. she just tells you about her life and the magic she imbued it with. i like this description of her getting read to visit Charleville, France to visit Arthur Rimbaud's hometown/grave:

" Robert took me shopping for a proper hat, and we chose one of soft brown felt with a grosgrain ribbon [...] On the Bowery I found an unconstructed raincoat of kelly green rubberized silk, a Dior blouse of gray houndstooth linen, brown trousers, and an oatmeal cardigan: an entire wardrobe for thirty dollars, just needing a bit of washing and mending. In my plaid suitcase I placed my Baudelaire cravat, my notebook; Robert added a postcard of a staute of Joan of Arc. Sam gave me a silver Coptic cross from Ethiopia, and Judy Linn loaded up her small half-frame camera and showed me how to use it. Janet Hamill, who had returned from her own journey to Africa, where she had passed through the region of my dreams, had brought me back a handful of blue glass beads - scarred trade beads from Harar - the same beads that Rimbaud had traded - as a cherished souvenir. I slipped them in my pocket as a good-luck tailsman.

Thus armed, I was ready for my journey."

objects as art and ritual - kinda like playing dress up and make believe as a kid.