you can only be me right now to really appreciate it, but

the movie, with its sweeping, orchestral score, climaxes and closes, a quick fade to black before the picture cuts out to reveal the desktop background on my tv screen.

there stands jeff, ribs-deep in the gulf of mexico, looking down at a reflection twice as large as he. the sun is off screen to the right somewhere, reflecting white off the clouds behind him, which in turn reflect white off the water around him. hair hanging in his eyes, he studies his own image, rippling below his chest, or, maybe, the sand and rocks he's tumbling around with his toes.

the tv hums quietly. faucet drips in the kitchen (of course). computer purring before me. i can almost feel sand between my own toes, and i wiggle them slowly. but it only helps the memory to fade.

i sit still, almost not breathing, and try to hear the waves, the seagull in the distance, try to smell the warmth of the air that only exists now in the pixels and resolution of my tv screen.

p.s. new mix. a little old, a little new, a little everything i'm listening to. jeff and i started a mix about a week ago, you'll see some of that here. it's pretty thrown together, but it has its high points. spoilers: a killer roy --> teddybears segue right off the bat; and, thinking ahead, how good would the shins' "a comet appears" chirping intro sound after bloc party's "waiting for the 7.18"? it settles pretty quickly into a mellow mood (decemberists b-side is for you, dad), so brew up some of that leftover decaf holiday blend, and kick back...