On Words and Music.

I gather many people choose music to set a mood. I don’t; I have to choose music which matches my existing mood because everything else is intolerable. Tonight I was in a Rickie Lee Jones mood so I listened to some Rickie Lee Jones. And then I suddenly wanted to write something which included the words:

…a sour heat hung in the air and set my sinuses stinging.

It reminded me of a woman called Dominique from India who used to comment on my blog. I’ve never stopped missing Dominique because her restrained use of English was exemplary and commendably singular. She said very little, but her choice of words and the syntax in which they were couched opened a whole catalogue of impressions.

There’s really little point to this post; it’s just that I’m bored but not yet tired enough to go to bed. I’m still listening to Rickie Lee Jones and life looks purple at the moment. One more large scotch and then maybe I’ll close the day down. The law of gravity by which egg timers function can be troublesome at times, but maybe it doesn't matter as long as the capacity to feel remains undiminished.