5.22.09 - 264/365

in la, at my brother's

normally when i fly
i am adamant about an aisle seat;
i watch the whole trip go by,
i do my watercolors
painting what i see out the window
(i love crop patterns)
and,
of course,
i take pictures

this trip...
i was in the center seat
and i spent the whole time
trying to get a handle
on unread email

consequently
i feel as if i was just plucked from ny
and dropped here
with no sense of having traveled
(except my ears are still fried)

it's a strange feeling