Odd Gray Smelly Days

A strange, warm, February rain fell yesterday.  It continues to drizzle and to mist today.  The sun does not shine and I hide away in the gray low light, my senses and intellect dull.  Sad cat wrapped around my foot hugs and snuggles.  I could stay this way awhile.

The smell of death permeates the house more strongly now.  Something has died under the house.  I can smell it outside.  The acrid stench wafts from room to room.  No candle or spray can make it go away.  I will live with it until it is done.

Odd gray smelly days.

Last night's movie was "Last Tango in Paris."  I had not watched it since its release in 1972.  I remembered more than I knew, for there is not much to the film.  Brando, forty-eight at the time, still had that raw, sexual appeal, though I remember critics commenting that he had gone to fat.  The scenes that so titillated audiences then are not much now, and Maria Schneider, twenty at the time, is not much of an actor.  When the film was over, I just felt weary.

Today's photo is one of my favorite people to photograph, the fifteen year old model who certainly will have a career at this.  I've worked with her and her mother and her sister so much now that I am beginning to feel like an uncle. You know, the one you tell the kids to stay away from.

If you are feeling sad or low and believe you are getting close to going down the rabbit hole yourself, just remember, there will always be someone ready to give you a push.  You are better off just keeping it to yourself.