last night i started reading now, now, louison. it's a slim volume about louise bourgeois. she made the soft sculpture above, the found child, in 2001. she was born on this day in 1911. she was enthralled by weaving and spiders, she called the spiders maman. i don't know what suggested lulu reaching for the heavy vine that i wanted to sit on and swing. something about reaching for the stars we can't see, and the webs that float around and capture our faces. r. just brought me a lovely bowl of grapefruit, mango and pomegranate. i'm soul grateful, i start to cry. jasper cat cries for breakfast and throws up. i cry about that. louise bourgeois was haunted by her maman (and papa too). her art was like the spider's. feel every thread, how it goes on.