Friday. For all the ways last evening could have gone badly, I seem to have come through it in pretty good shape. An excellent evening, really, sushi and sake down the hill, a walk back to the apartment to putter happily about before turning in early. Up this morning feeling, well, good; just a little off, but off in a way that doesn't necessarily relate to abuse. If that makes sense. If, last night, I made sense.

Still, we're home, it's overcast verging on rain, the day ahead, a Friday at that, and I'm in the mood for something or other (that doesn't include sake). Again, looks like rain, a very light drizzle earlier as I was walking to breakfast, looking no better as it approaches noon. Someone said half an inch of rain over the weekend. Not much, a gentle nudge into winter considering what they've been experiencing in South Asia and Pakistan, but we'll find a way to get excited about it. I'm sure. Rain? In California? (Yes, I exaggerate. It's Friday, I'm a little buzzed, I figure I'm allowed no matter how dumb the result.)

Later. A typical rainy Seattle day in that there's the occasional drop or two coming from a uniformly grey sky, but that's about it. A drop or two in a low overcast light. A bus downtown, a walk (amble) back, an ice cream sandwich bought at the local convenience store and then eaten sitting on a bench beside the lake. I needed to get out and I did get out, working now on the few photographs I managed and then maybe something soothing and modestly productive here in the apartment.

I still wonder about these allergies. I've had the big air cleaner running day and night now in the bedroom this last week and the apartment manager is replacing all the window curtains and drapes. They've started to fall apart from sun exposure and there's definitely no way to clean them without having them disintegrate. Which is good timing given these lungs. Hard for me to think my poor cat was the cause, but the drapes and curtains (at least) will be clear of anything and everything prior to their arrival but for the chemicals they're manufactured with. Oh. Right. All that. We'll skip all that. Plenty of chemicals around this place, no reason to single out the drapes.

I stopped by the new Crucible exhibition at their gallery at Telegraph and Broadway. Some nice pieces in what I'm assuming is a Halloween themed exhibition. I've had no urge to sign up for any of their many classes, but they clearly have a lot going for them in Oakland. There's lots of galleries around, Oakland is getting a reputation for being kind to artists (if only for the low rents), but not all of them are as consistently interesting as these Crucible exhibits.

You're now a gallery critic? You have lots of experience with what's going on locally? My bucko?

Fair point. Looking in occasionally and taking the odd picture at maybe a half dozen galleries in the area does not a critic make. A critic with critical facilities and experience, that is, I have no problem just mouthing off.

Again, a cloudy, overcast (“Seattle”) afternoon, the kind of afternoon I remember as a child. Time to draw, to play board games and read. And now, with grey hair, to clean the apartment. There's a nice quality to it, probably in large part to those memories, so we'll see how the remainder of the day plays out. Sake last night, maybe tea later tonight. I have tea up there somewhere in the cupboards. It's been sitting there untouched for the last five years.

Ten years.

Don't say that. I don't want to hear it.