Irritants:

A sentence that begins, "The last time he saw her..." with only a few minutes of reading time remaining.

Seeing the underbelly of an Asiana Boeing 767 as it descends to this country. I can read the hangul emblazened on the side of the fuselage from the sidewalk on which I stand. The engines make a terrible roar, like the plane is actually grinding into the air and using the resulting friction to help slow the approach. I think the pilots are doing the task incorrectly and imagine a hundred lives hanging in the balance.

A car that doesn't like to be shifted in a city where there are too many red stoplights. The clutch pushes back hard against my foot for lengthy periods. I have to keep it pressed to the floor with the stick shoved into first throughout the duration of the red light. Otherwise, it takes a second or two for the car to accept the imposition into first and I feel guilty holding up traffic.

Selling myself.

A little bit of I-90 goes a long way. Just a small stretch last night, the one that goes through the two tunnels and over Lake Washington twice. An interesting piece of road with beautiful views and a nice smooth surface. It's not so fun in the Millenium Falcon, but I make do. The ride is loud, the contraption labors, and the speakers sputter, but the tires revolve smoothly.

Went over there to Bellevue to grab Tom. Brought him all the way back over here to sit in this house with me. We stopped at Red Mill Burgers just because I was curious about the line of people I always see backed out the door when I drive by to that other restaurant I like, Carmelita. It's a burger joint, a small one at that. Food was good enough I suppose. Tom expensed it to his company and I was like, Wooo! Let's do this every night!

I did some brave things yesterday and today. I'm worn out from the effort. I rewarded myself with a long lunch and a leisurely stroll through the life of Jacob Lawrence.

I've heard a lot about Jacob Lawrence in recent years, mostly from Dave's mom. I've seen a print or two of his work around town. I remembered the rich color and geometric forms. Now I think too of skin as dark as the background with only painted-on clothing giving the figure salience. Large hands grasping at delicate tools. Heads sometimes geometric, sometimes bulbuous, but almost always the eyes are soft and carry a look of undiluted focus or concern or grief.