Artificially sweetened, sure, but the azaleas all kinda look like this right now.
Alva Noto, Utp_
William Basinski, Variations for Piano and Tape
Nurit Tilles, David Mahler: Only Music Can Save Me Now
Todd Reynolds, Outerborough
Kurt Elling, The Gate
Cowboy Junkies, Demons
Left the leafy lindens and sluggish Spree, the breakfast of sausages and cheeses and breads that stretched like communist boulevards into late afternoon, the stretch-denim legs of the artist girls pedaling home from their studios on paint-splattered single-speeds, the syrupy strong coffees the Kurdish diaspora made by midnight at my corner café and its resident narcoleptic who'd roll tomorrow's cigarettes for me, ten smokes for two euros.
A great sentence from Joshua Cohen's "Emission" in the Paris Review 196