stream of consciousness

The Mixtape: Vol. #65 Tuesday I’m sitting in a nubby, midcentury chair that is the color of egg yolks. Behind me, open windows let in the dew-heavy Appalachian air and what I think of as the “early-morning mashup,” when the crickets and the birds are out at the same time. There is strange art on the walls, mostly woodcut prints from what I can tell, some paintings, a few embroidery hoops featuring precise, complex stitchwork that is much better than the stitch-by-numbers projects someone gave...