So somehow everything I read at the moment seems to be about New York. Comics, books. I feel like I'm half there, in the city that has everything. Big and small lives in a tangle.
Rules of Civility by Amor Towles is a wonderful story set in 1938. It's shimmering like dusty diamonds, ice and cigarette smoke. Vibrant and gripping.
Octopus Pie by Meredith Gran is a funny and harsh comic about a group of people. I can't really say much more but there's a lot. Magical adventures, drunken mistakes, worries about love and money and drugs and cats.
Johnny Wander is another comic, by Ananth Panagariya and Yuko Ota. It's a biography-comic I guess? They make it about their life. It has cats and coffee and everyday stuff. It's very sweet and well made.
I love travelling and I dream about it all the time but NY is a city I never really found fascinating. It seems to have a magical magnetism but it never really gripped me. It seems too large and noisy and, well... I don't know. Not interesting? I dream about New Orleans and San Fransisco and ... Canada. I want to go back to Hawaii. Or... I don't know. The last year or so all travel has been so stressful that I hardly want to leave my room. I want to be here. I want to be here until june and then I want to get on a plane and go to Houston. And try to not totally freak out.
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