(no subject)

"Human life itself may be almost pure chaos, but the work of the
artist is to take these handfuls of confusion and disparate things,
things that seem to be irreconcilable, and put them together in a
frame to give them some kind of shape and meaning."
-- Katherine Anne Porter, American novelist and short-story writer

beautiful day

Today was nice. We looked at an excellent apartment and I think we shall live there for the next year. Gorgeous place, with great pools, gym, media center, big bath tubs, beautiful view. Oh I do like this place.

Borrowed the Novak book. I will stay up all night and read it. Excellent work so far. His writing as a resident alien in America makes me realize how surreal and bizarre America really is. When you live here, yes it seems tragic that third graders bring guns to school, but you don't get the full horror. Odd that it takes an outside voice to make me see what happens for what it really is. The more I think about it, the more disturbing America is. Being an American is weird.

Spent some time hanging out in Professor L.'s office, talking about Russian novels and sunshine. He likes the murderous Texas summers, how the heat soaks into your bones. It was beautiful outside today, wide open sky and sixty degrees in the sun. We walked across campus and drank coffee. I like talking with my professors in this informal way, because they never act like I'm just a student or an interruption. It's just friendly. I want to be like this one day.