I’m happy that it’s raining today.

I’ve been thinking about cities, about old cities; how they can feel (in some areas, certain streets) more like formations than something man-made. Edinburgh: those massive brown blocks everything is made of– buildings that look as though they sprung from bedrock to show off, make us feel small, and in awe. Buildings whose foundations appear unshakable and indestructible (but nothing is), and as ancient as the dormant volcano just outside the city. Massive structures whose density is palpable as you look upon them, and whose stone turns streaked with dark in the rain. Impenetrable but somehow warm, and makes you want to touch it, that stone. It’s history that stuck around; it’s evidence.

But I’m romanticizing.

Edinburgh has other reasons, too, to be in my thoughts today. One: I was informed that one of my photographs of said city has been shortlisted for inclusion in the Schmap Edinburgh Guide. Not sure how they found my photo, but it was a nice surprise. Two: Today is October 11th, and it has been two years since a rainy night in Edinburgh on which Anders and I met up with fellow Brooklynite, Ben. It was not only a really fun evening, but also the beginning of something totally unexpected, unlooked-for.

I read this line in Oil Notes, by Rick Bass, today: “Falling in love can be a cure sometimes, but it can only be a shot in the arm if you don’t need it.”


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