High

Yeah, hi. I feel like it's been busy, but maybe it's all just one big party. From birthdays, presents, babysitting and more birthdays, exhibitions and more exhibitions. I chatted with little Iggy while swaying in the hammock. I ate some of Amory's birthday cake. Happy Birthday little love. I saw some art. I saw some other art. I watched the first season of True Blood and remained mostly ambivalent, though I like the sweaty southern setting and the manner and speech of the 173 year old resident vampire, Bill Compton. I fell asleep in three movies and read a book about the life of Samuel Johnson. Full to the brim with ye olde hilarity, like this, talking of the nature of public fame.

'Sir, these celebrated men, such as Shakespeare and Voltaire have had there applause at a distance; he, however had it dashed in his face, sounded in his ears, and went home every night with the plaudits of a thousand in his cranium. He did not find, but made his way to the tables, the levees, and almost the bed-chambers of the great.... and, all this supported by wealth of his own acquisition. If all this had happened to me, I should have had a couple of fellows with long poles walking before me, to knock down everybody that stood in the way.'

This afternoon I plan to brave the High Vibes festival and attempt to see Flying Scribble and Aleks and the Ramps. A couple of fellows with long poles could come in handy in a crowd such as that.