How Will I Remember
how will I remember
to watch light move through a room?
to go to the Haitian restaurant on Dundas?
to do my Chloe Ting Youtube workout so my body doesn’t become a ghost?
to do a habit right after another established habit to form a new habit?
to find somewhere to put the clawfoot bathtub we scavenged?
to sneak into Violet’s room and play with all her slimes?
to cut my cat’s nails?
to remove the dead plant in my office?
Fremont. The humour is totally deadpan, even though the subject is not—a former translator for the US military works for a fortune cookie factory even as she tries to navigate a new life in the US. I love the blending of the weighty plus the absurd. Oh, this is my art film era.
My shades because the sun is back on in Ontario. (Or it’s back for an hour and then it’s gone again, but why get all nitpicky with the sun?)
Do all the things, of course, the ambitious things—travel, get rich, get famous, innovate, lead, fall in love, make and lose fortunes, swim naked in wild jungle rivers—but as you do, to the extent that you can, err in the direction of kindness. Do those things that incline you toward the big questions, and avoid the things that would reduce you and make you trivial.
To another non-trivial week!