Fall is here. It is gorgeously overcast and moody outside; rain is in the air. I can feel October approaching.

I volunteered at the Art Center today, spending two hours making brightly colored papier mache maracas for kids to play with on Dia De Los Muertos next month. Sometimes I miss being a little kid so much. Their worlds are so full of mischief and color and celebration. The more I think about it, the more I think I really would like to be an illustrator for children's books, to always keep one foot (or at least a pinky toe) planted in that gleefully fucked-up world of kid imagination. I hope I never lose that part of myself- I know too many people who already have. How do those people ever smile, I wonder?

Of course, judging by how many adults are excited about Where The Wild Things Are, there may be hope for humanity yet.

I spent the rest of the day exploring Farmville, cozily walled up inside myself, wrapped in scarves and listening to Ani DiFranco. I discovered an untold wealth of antique stores, and investigated a coffee shop I'd been interested in visiting by the name of The Mad Hatter, where I met two junior year art majors who told me where to find a warehouse full of antiques and scavenged objects. I plan on looking for it next friday.

Pumpkins are starting to show up in the farmers markets and at the grocery store. I find myself wanting to spend a day back in Charlottesville, if only to go up to Carter's Mountain and pick apples some afternoon.

I live for these sort of perfect days.