PIG (a file that has been open for weeks, with little added to in the interim) * I saw a film the other day. In one of the opening scenes Nicolas Cage makes a mushroom tart. His truffle pig, who lives in his shed in the Oregon woods with him, fossicks around at his feet. He clods flour together, with maybe an egg. The counter is narrow and flour sifts into the dark room, out into the space of the room, its specks lit singly by sunlight. You see it in the air against the dark of the floor, against the ginger of the pig’s bristle. It sits against the skin of the pig’s face.
notes on pig
notes on pig
notes on pig
PIG (a file that has been open for weeks, with little added to in the interim) * I saw a film the other day. In one of the opening scenes Nicolas Cage makes a mushroom tart. His truffle pig, who lives in his shed in the Oregon woods with him, fossicks around at his feet. He clods flour together, with maybe an egg. The counter is narrow and flour sifts into the dark room, out into the space of the room, its specks lit singly by sunlight. You see it in the air against the dark of the floor, against the ginger of the pig’s bristle. It sits against the skin of the pig’s face.