The painted aircraft took on sunlight and pulse. Sweeps of color, bands and spatters, airy washes, the force of saturated light—the whole thing oddly personal, a sense of one painter’s hand moved by impulse and afterthought as much as by epic design. I hadn’t expected to register such pleasure and sensation. The air was color-scrubbed, coppers and ochers burning off the metal skin of the aircraft to exchange with the framing desert.
—
Don DeLillo (Underworld)
I tell myself I like DeLillo’s work for his ideas, his insights into society. But perhaps more simply I love his mastery of language.
![I ran.
Well, that’s not quite true. I walked quickly and mixed in about equal time of heavy-breath jogging. Monday and Wednesday [today], and again on Friday. My roommate is helping me carry out this burden. I should say that, currently, I view running pretty unfavorably. It seems like the work exercise. No slight to anyone who enjoys it, but when I can dance, play a sport, walk, lift weights, etc… I would generally choose them above running.
Maybe if I do this enough it’ll be drilled into my head to enjoy it?
Slightly behind on my goal weight at the moment. Stuck at 266. Hoping that this additional workout a few times a week will kick things back into gear.
Certainly, if general soreness (note: not pain or injury, just soreness) is an indication of success, things are going well.](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m1mbbdH0w61qzzcvjo1_400.jpg)
