Just peeking my head above a fortress of terribly depressing books to say hello. What I'm writing right now better be good because the reading I'm doing as research, if history is any indication of the future, has me feeling hopeless for the human race.
What I mean to say is that if the book I'm writing is crap, then I will have been a masochist. But you already knew that (especially you Isa.)
Writer's angst has me searching desperately for online distractions. Alas the mindless and entirely relaxing world of home design now revs me up. I've come to resent draperies and candelabras and don't get me started on side tables. It's the accumulation that creeps me out. It's all the STUFF. It's an addiction people!
...all the pretty, pretty stuff..
Just one more picture okay, then I go to work. I needed a boost, those books are soooo depressing.
I knew if anyone would understand, it would be you.
pictures from the rice catalogue.


















































































































































