I write for love; I write for money; I try to do them both at the same time.
Night came on. It was very strong. I wanted the night to go on and on. But she said, go back. Go back to your script reading.
Warm day, cool tiles.
I was outside reading. A great flutter, and suddenly the branches were filled with birds. Watching me.
February in LA means cold days and flowers, blue rosemary and white pear blossoms.
Behold my accoutrements, steampunk and feathered.
I love that the 7 dwarfs are caryatids, supporting Disney. Also love that the dwarfs are standing on blocks.
First warm evening here in ages leads to gaudy sunset.
I love walking in the hills as night comes on. It's always showtime.
The intoxicating aroma of vintage pulp! I could sleep with this book. I think I did as a child.
Shadows from streetlamp on the limpid waters of a canal. Goodbye, St. P.
This is the Sphinx That Looks Toward Life.
It has a proud & gossipy history of writers, artists, duels & scandalous love affairs.
What should we do for our last day? Another dramatic facade, please.
Sleighs outside Pavlovsk Palace, when the sun confused us by coming out.
A view people were used to back in the old days.
This snow-covered field is the great river Neva. People walk around on it (but not me).
Fine, Twitpic. Here's Smolny in acceptably horizontal form.
That little place on the right is a public toilet. *That's* how pretty this town is.
Good heavens, here's one of the *other* prettiest buildings in the world.
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