dear jillian.
i havent settled in Vancouver yet, and so I dont have a proper address to send you so we can begin our corespondents.
the act of writing a letter puts me in an Oscar Wilde type of mood.
lately i have been reading a lot of turn of the century English authors.
it makes me feel romantic and tragic and kind of fragile, but bold with words.
i think you also like the sweet words of proper fantasy.
and,
i couldnt wait for my address to come,
and for you to get the letter, and then for your response.
so i wrote this to you.
sometimes when i am on my break,
smoking my lone/french/artist/image cigarettes i think about pretty things to write to you, on pretty paper, that smells like damsels in this dress.
and then i taste tomatoes and onions.
i will send my address as soon as i get it.
sylvana
