the snow has forgotten how to stop it falls stuttering at the glass of a silk windsock of snow blowing under the porch light tangling trees which bend like old women snarled in their own knitting snow drifts up to the step over the doorsill a pointillist’s blur the wedding of form and motion …
My formula for living is quite simple. I get up in the morning and I go to bed at night. In between, I occupy myself as best I can.”
~Cary Grant
“
Theres always a problem between shades of gray. I just happen to be one of them.