suffering from my seventh cold this year. it ain't too bad, a runny nose, a few small aches, sneezing, the occasional cough, you know, business as usual. too much info? well, shit i didn't know placing nicholas in daycare would expose me to the most ruthless, yet nonlethal, of bugs on the planet. c'est la vie, as they say.

saddened to learn mark young is leaving the ether. a prolific poet and a good friend, i'll keep my eyes peeled for his work. writers, despite themselves, usually keep at writing. i've learned never to count any poet out.

lately, at moments of stress, i'd put in the disc of mark's and martin edmond's reading/discussion at the university of auckland in july 2004. both are brilliant talkers, and mark's reading of his poems is so intimate, so loving --yes loving-- that i wish i were down under having many few brews, shooting the shit, and watching some fucked-up films with them.

and speaking of films, must've watched desist film by brakhage now a half-dozen times. there is something very creepy about it, the feedback on the soundtrack, the harsh lighting, the fact that the characters are doing really nothing at all, yet are pumped with menace, that a sudden movie can turn violent. i've listened to brackhage talk about the film, and he says he means nothing of the kind. but for me, there is something sinister not quite under the surface.

now i've gotta blow my nose