...and then it was autumn.

How does this happen? How does time move so quickly?

It doesn't really. We just move from goal to goal and then stop to realize what has passed. Or something less cliche.

This fall, I've decided to embrace some literary endeavors. Like reading. And writing. Huh.

Something particularly fulfilling has been categorizing quotes. I've collected favorite lines, or the ones that stick in my head when the page has been turned, for several years and always fantasized (dork moment) about typing them up in a categorized and searchable way. Enter a spreadsheet. Boom. It's been slow going, but I appreciate 

all the words at my fingertips now.

Tonight I also begin Nabokov's Ada.

A word on pronunciation... taken from a facebook discussion board: 

"Ada. Ardor: "Ardor" indicates the Russian rather than American pronunciation of Ada's name (demonstrated by Marina at 39.16-17: "She pronounced it the Russian way with two deep, dark 'a's, making it sound rather like 'ardor'")..."

And that is all.

(this post is uninspired. if I could remember where I found this photo, I would tell you.)

...and then it was summer

It's been awhile, eh? I've decided that in an attempt to better myself, I'll be doing this again.

Future posts are likely to include the Midwest road trip I just returned from and the life plans stirring in my brain. For now, however, I'm going to just make a few comments on summertime generally. Baby steps.

This photo was featured on The Sartorialist at some point this season. It's from Italy and it represents my dreams of summer. While I sweat and gain bad body feelings from quitting smoking (yeah, that happened), I feel like this on the inside. Working towards pushing that out. Moving towards change, for me, is quite slow though. Longest gestation.

Of course, there's also a strong part of me that will think this looks like the worst kind of fun in summertime ever:


(also from thesartorialist.com)