I'm still in San Francisco. I'm reminded of this because my apartment is messy, cluttered with discarded items that didn't make it into my carry-on. My asian robe is lying on the floor, half-draped over the waste-basket (too thick to fold and fit), the black top that you pull down over your shoulders and hope that it doesn't creep up every time you raise your arms, the black and brown long african dress lying in a ball at the base of the carry-on...this one still has a chance. When I'm travelling, my living space is neat. It's a strange feeling, this neatness. I only like it for small periods of time, then I have to mess it up. It's my theme. I like stillness, order, but then I crave stirring those up. I enjoy tossing things on the
... read more
