Christopher Hitchens has died. I wanted to cry when I heard: I don't know why. Christopher Hitchens is the sort of atheist I dislike, but the kind of writer I admire: the man's man of writers. Of course, we all knew he was dying. I assumed it would happen and was surprised that it ultimately took so long. Still. Christopher Hitchens is dead.
This week has been extremely difficult, but in the way that you feel stronger having overcome it. My supervisor and I met on Wednesday, and something has happened in our relationship that I can't pinpoint, but has made things remarkably easier. She is really an incredible teacher. So much more to do, so much more to rewrite, rework, rethink, but her investment in the project, in me as an academic, gives me an immense amount of strength.
Yesterday, my classes ended early and I went up to the Tate to finally, finally see the Rothko Seagram murals and... they've been taken down again? What? I couldn't believe it. They'll be back next summer. Maybe I'll never see them...
I've been listening to some of Pitchfork's 50 albums of the year: amazing that we live in a time when we can do this. All music is free and legal? If it's not putting you out of business, it's great. Youth Lagoon's 'The Year of Hibernation' now. Wow.
I also need some New Year's resolutions. Running the marathon and doing the PhD should be enough. We'll see if there's anything else.