This Blog In September 2001: Day Four.

Commuter Life The most striking person I know lives around the corner from me. I know not her name or where she is from. I've heard her speak but once. She is a girl out of time. She's modelled herself on the paintings of Rossetti, her red hair tied up in a bun, her skin a milky white. She wears flowery dresses, blue cardigans and a velvet coat of emerald. She carries a crochet shopping bag. She's breath-taking as she weaves about the modern world, amongst the business suits and tracksuits, seemingly unconcerned by pollution and concrete. I saw her on the train the other day and it seemed incongruous that she would be travelling anywhere. To me she always just seems to be just there - and that's where I hope she'll stay. *feeling listless classics I watched this Metafilter thread develop in real time. I was amazed to find this page anywhere. The gentleman involved has decided that widescreen films actually censor the picture. Not a serious point, but he goes at it hammer and nails. So…