Watching Amelie on a Rainy Day

These days, I feel like a crazy person, and it worries me that I can't get over it. Luckily, the probable worst symptom of my madness is paranoia about being crazy. It should pass.

I also (perhaps relatedly) feel unmoored and unmoved by more productive obsessions.

Yesterday, I woke up early and went with Jackie to the market at Prospect Park. I bought a beautiful dahlia in a pot and some Golden Delicious apples. Then I went to PS1 to meet Andrew and Dana. We saw the Olafur Eliasson exhibit. The most inexplicable part was looking at the exhibit guide and trying to figure out where the second half of the pieces were being shown (answer: across the river, at MoMA!)

I'm going to write it down here, so I can see it in print: I am sane. There is nothing wrong with me, and I exude the charm and health of any other wild, oblivious animal. My life is my own, and at every turn becomes more reliably glorious and full of soulstirring interest.