I realized this morning, walking long distances for our (actually super-fun) costume design group project, that I am very happy.
Possible causes for happiness:
- Not having Friday classes
- This weather
- Reuniting with my favorite people
- Woolf is in my life again. First on the thesis docket: "To the Lighthouse"
- My house is great
- I get to see Guion tomorrow
- MY BIKE
- Burt's Bees papaya lip tint
- Reading Isaiah 58 every morning (a collective effort with my sisters)
- Bringing the 365 project back. I didn't realize that I'd kind of missed it
- Discovering Pandora
- Learning the ebb and flow at UNC Press
I mean, really, how can my life be anything but incandescently happy when I get to read this kind of stuff all day?
"They came there regularly every evening drawn by some need. It was as if the water floated off and set sailing thoughts which had grown stagnant on dry land, and gave to their bodies even some sort of physical relief. First, the pulse of colour flooded the bay with blue, and the heart expanded with it and the body swam, only the next instant to be checked and chilled by the prickly blackness on the ruffled waves. Then, up behind the great black rock, almost every evening spurted irregularly, so that one had to watch for it and it was a delight when it came, a fountain of white water; and then, while one waited for that, one watched, on the pale semicircular beach, wave after wave shedding again and again smoothly, a film of mother of pearl." (Woolf, "To the Lighthouse")
Happy Labor Day weekend, lovers!