picture of my parents came in the mail with my thanksgiving plane ticket. I want to hybernate through thanksgiving in bed with a stack of non-school related books and a hot pot for tea. two pointed out all the ways my parents in our kitchen are like me or connected to me or whatever. I realize I miss our kitchen, the way even when there is nothing I want to eat there are the comfy counters and a cabinets full of teas and another of old cookbooks and a fridge covered in pictures and word magnets. I want enough room for my easel or any easel at all and enough room to spin with a paintbrush in hand. I want to skip school for a week to paint. I don't have an image burning a hole in my head or anything I just want paint, the naph. red and cobalt blue and yellow like egg yoke. they're in the drawer upstair the room isn't mine enough for painting it seems.