Why twelve specifically?

Well, the standard frame rate for broadcast TV is 24 frames per second. I liked the idea of taking one second’s worth of frames and stretching it to a week, but 24 felt like too much. I thought about ten, but that felt like too little. Maybe because I thought of this newsletter in December, or because twelve is the highest single-syllable number and the four-count rhythm of “12 / Frames / Per / Week” satisfies me, but twelve just seemed perfect.

This week I am thinking about how romantic snow is when you don’t have any, how actually anything can be romantic with enough distance especially people and suffering, the pathology of a desire for fame, “Blinded” by Third Eye Blind, how context can be the difference between disability and superability, how often I should prune my plants, how often I should prune my bookshelves, umami where you least expect it, straight lines vs. organic forms and the virtues of both, hot water with mint and lemon, olive oil cakes, and Miles Davis playing with his back to the audience.

With a sore hip,
SD