as always, there is the musical landscape of past years creeping up on me. matching the weather.

this year, as march warms and blusters around me: the kills and the xx, deerhunter and the bird and the bee.

devin. frank.

one friend of many who is clever with words coined the phrase "memory tv," and this, i think, is an apt description of how i am often living my life. there is so much buffalo spring in my brain right now. shaky recovery from the winter. no caffeine, no booze. warm lit nights on 19th st. with root vegetables and, slowly, one or two friends. walking to and from penzey's in the slush in my pink pants, or with my straight black skirt blowing. unwrapping from a cocoon. fish fries. animal cards.

i remember walking to caffe aroma in the cold rain to meet frank on st. patrick's day, swallowed in my red rain jacket. "you're too skinny." he said. the first of 289 times i heard that from him.

i am skinnier now.

seattle spring, at the moment, is similarly rainy. but it is punctuated with moments of brightness, and when the sun shines the mountains come out and the green glows. and even when it is pouring, everything is lush. there is a carpet of camellia petals on the sidewalk. walking in the door, the bottoms of my boots are pink.