I learned recently that art history translates as storia dell’arte in Italian. The only significant thing about this is that I found it beautiful. Storia dell’arte. God dammit that sounds so beautiful to me. I had taken a few months off from my Italian studies, but I resumed them again this week, and I forgot how much fun it is to listen and to write and to speak in Italian. I love this language, and I wish I had more time to take it as seriously as I’d wish. I wish I had more time (and discipline) to do more, but at this stage in my life, I’d take what I can get.

For the past few years, I’ve been working hard to reduce my overall screen time, and one of the things I have recently begun to do is to read paper magazines again. You know, sometimes I have an idea for something and I have no idea how it’ll turn out until I do it, and I had an inkling how this might turn out but I can never be sure how it will turn out, but now that I have all my magazines together for the first time, I am ecstatic at how this idea turned out. Turning off my phone, tossing it aside, and reading a nice article in the New Yorker or an interesting interview in the Paris Review has been so much fun. I received the London Review of Books just today so I haven’t been able to dig into yet, but I will, and I’m eager to try it out.

Moral of the story: turn off your screens and hold paper and ink again.