Lyrical Odes to Refulgent Nature

"Exhausted men do not write lyrical odes to refulgent nature," David Roberts writes in his introduction to Valerian Albanov's 1917 book In the Land of White Death, an account of his trek across Siberia in the dead of winter. While I haven't exactly been exhausted, I have been really busy, and I thought I'd drop by to explain my lengthy absence.

I blame the heat, mostly. During the recent heat wave, our apartment was too hot to exist in, except for the air-conditioned haven of the bedroom. Since my computer is not in the bedroom, I got no work done at home. I used to write most of my reviews and blog posts at the ad agency, but I haven't worked there much this summer. I've spent most weekdays at the film studio working on the artistamps documentary, but that's work I rather enjoy, so I do it instead of writing.

I've also been worried about money—it seems I'm always worried about money. For some reason, I can't write when I'm worried, although I discovered this summer that I can make art (I just finished my ninth artistamp). I hope that when it cools down I'll find the energy to post more, and to write reviews for some of my ever-increasing list of unreviewed films.