XLIV

diapason; noun, [dahy-uhpey-zuh n, -suh n]

  1. a full, rich outpouring of melodious sound.
  2. the compass of a voice or instrument.
  3. a fixed standard of pitch.
  4. either of two principal timbres or stops of a pipe organ, one of full, majestic tone (open diapason) and the other of strong, fluteliketone (stopped diapason).
  5. a tuning fork.

first love / late spring / last day of classes. it’s bittersweet, but it’s also a relief. i’ve been thinking about this quote from To the Lighthouse: 

“When life sank down for a moment, the range of experience seemed limitless. And to everybody there was always this sense of unlimited resources, she supposed; one after another, she, Lily, Augustus Carmichael, must feel, our apparitions, the things you know us by, are simply childish. Beneath it is all dark, it is all spreading, it is unfathomably deep; but now and again we rise to the surface and that is what you see us by.”

that’s what today felt like—life sinking down for a moment. i finished class, took a nap in the afternoon, wrote a few letters, and noodled around on the piano for a while. i thought about this past year. a crazy one, for sure.


last week i shot my first two rolls of 35mm film! just picked up the negatives and scans, and while a good chunk of my photos were slightly overexposed (400 ISO film is really sensitive to light!!), a few turned out alright. new york is photogenic as always.

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