Anyway we both agreed that our favorite was the hole in Holly Hunter's glove in The Piano. It was magic. We knew at that moment that we were meant in each other's lives.
Unfortunately, we thought that that meant in each others' pants. The pants were not to be--to be gotten into, that is.
Twelve years later, Nathaniel asked me to do a little writing for him. Blogging is entirely new to me. I spend my creative energies writing poems for no one to read. Many successful poems are not unlike successful blog posts: short, obsessive, with strong attachments to images. Like breath, with both bad blogs and bad poetry, it's always hard to tell when your own stinks.