Have you ever had the dream in which you have someplace very important to be, something life changing is about to happen, and you can’t figure out what to wear. Women say yes when asked while men insist they don’t have this kind of dream at all, ‘Must be a girl thing’, but everyone has a little girly girl in them so I’m pretty sure we’ve all had this dream. It leaves me wondering where I could possibly be going that would matter so much.

Instead of tailgating the Presidential debate as planned, I’m sitting here stunned dumb at the passing of another friend, the fourth one this year. We will all wear black and once again not know what to say. In keeping with tradition, I’m making soup for the family.

The thing with soup is that it takes time, but not much attention. What I really want to do is assemble something. A trip to Ikea. Would there be any repercussions for assembling a few book cases? As far as I know they don’t have any YOU ASSEMBLE IT. YOU BUY IT signs.

For now I’m pressing leaves, sealing them just to hear the crinkle of wax paper again and again. You take the most vibrant red leaf you can find and melt the wax together with an iron, but still the color fades.

I have a book by John Cage somewhere, the kind of book that you’re never finished with. In one line he says something about how a thing can not be truly beautiful until its outlived its purpose; explains why abandoned buildings are so alluring, or the act of pressing leaves makes some sense.

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