Michelle Bailat-Jones
@mbailatj
novelist/translator/reader, here for the sharpened pencils, books & writing talk, for all things language and foliage, for all the shiny things & shadows. (Eng, Fr, 日本語, Ital) Rep'd by Simon Trewin. www.michellebailatjones.com
"Ceci n'est pas une éclipse" for today's entry for the catalogue of wingtips
Good morning from the sunrise at the softest of sea edges and the tiny clicks of seagulls finding shellfish for their breakfast
A blue to counteract the red of "on fire" (though on fire has its definite positives)
Today's heatwave blue from the middle of the lake. Les dents du midi, jour 4 ou 5 de la canicule, depuis le lac.
Good morning from the quiet shadows before the day's heat, from this flashy invasive, from all the green enjoying the early, gentle sun.
Today's dog beach: only one of the small dogs actually likes the sea, all the big dogs but one love it (and she really hates it), a medium sized spaniel has a boogie board. Tiny terrier has accepted the fatalism of the sandy snout.
"My work has vulnerability built into it...." (from Tremor, Teju Cole)
Not a beach read; very scraggly tiny terrier. The McEwan is chilling, and very good. The terrier is learning to chill.
Silent, overlooked corner as today's entry for the catalogue of quietly pleasing things
"yet I knew and still know what it was like to both not belong and belong, what it was like to feel invisible inside the great, great dream of being."
Those are the closest in width, they're my backup. But I don't love the feel of the paper. (this is an HEB rebranded one bought in Texas the last time I had to go...)
Favorite notebook - Everyday Notes, Kartotek (Denmark) is no longer easily findable. Alas! They are 26 cm x 19 cm, slender ruled. I love the size. Recommendations for others? Tell me your favorite notebook (but if you use checked paper, I'm sorry, we can no longer be friends).
Yesterday. Late walk. Swallow acrobatics over the fields above the village, streetlamp a bit show-offy in its summer unemployment.
Good morning from the riotous, weedy, and overgrown, from the neighbor's crumbling barn with bird nests in the eaves, from the sound of thousands of bees in the rowan
Spiky, for the first nigella of the season ツンツン @botanical.bsky.social
Today is texture, is very very quiet, is style and how things are made, are woven together
Brisk and fire-tinged at the edges for the last entry of this year's catalogue of (dawn) twilights
Garden morning. A half-hour of cold, winter sun. The pumpkin leaves, like curled paper now, hang from the homemade summer trellis that will collapse as soon as we get snow.
Everyone at the station can see their breath, everyone keeps their hands in their pockets, the man who lives beside the station is whistling in his garden, whistling and crunching his boots across the frost.