this morning i stuffed my headphones full of sigur ros and i journeyed to point reyes. the beach is beautiful and windy and full of ghosts stardust dancing gently over the beach. this is a source of strangers, the beach and the sea who don't really know each other but hold hands anyway. there are so many beautiful secrets in point reyes, we have to film a movie here. we have to, we have to, we have to. there's no other way about it.

yesterday i secretly cried (well, no longer a secret now) while finishing murakami's norwegian wood. i'm reading fast food nation right now and i'm already on page 93. beautiful books. i cherish every idle moment i have with either reading or writing. i finished the first draft of a children's book last week, which i was 76% happy with, but draft two is full of potential (thank you, you all who encourage me.) children's book two is hidden in morcels all over my sketchbook. the play hesitates with her lines, i just need a moment to bumrush it all out. the poetry tries too hard, so i'm letting him play. but i really shouldn't talk about my writing...

yesterday was also beer and crabs aplenty.

yesterday is as sleepless as today and tomorrow.